Bitchfaces, these holidays have walked right up and smacked us on the ass this year, and I am not ashamed to admit that I’m not ready for any of this. However, due to the fact that I’ve been perpetually late since 2004, nobody expects me to be prepared, present, or pleasant.
I’ve done myself a solid with that shit. I could show up somewhere with yams next week and people are like, “oh, shit, sis, drop those yams on the counter and let’s eat”, as though I’m really handling shit in a timely and organized fashion. I’m not.
I digress.
I wanted to interrupt your backyard turkey oil fire with a reminder. Not as though y’all need one, but I’ve got redundant on the tip of my tongue, so we’ll just drop it here.
If you’ve been here a while, you know the drill. If you’ve come around lately, here’s the long and short of it: holidays equal triggers. Someone is constantly flying off the fucking handle, money is overspent, relatives you don’t like visit, and everyone likes to take that clusterfuck and pour alcohol over it.
Sounds like a county jail visit waiting to happen.
Last year, we had some douchebag beat his wife with the actual Christmas tree, and more Grinches stole Christmas than I care to remember. This is the reason that I don’t ever take holidays off, nor do the agencies who provide temporary shelter, legal assistance, and food and clothing in emergencies.
Nope. We fucking burn that midnight oil, y’all.
If you are in a domestic encounter that seems like escalation is imminent, please call me. Let me Uber your ass out of there. Like, right then, sis. We ain’t waiting.
If your baby daddy is a case of Busch deep and starts throwing shit, hit me on the Bitchface line, we can get you out of there within the hour. Unless you’re in Montana, because you know why. You’re in fucking Montana.
If your sister-in-law is sporting another black eye, if your momma has a busted lip, whatever the scenario, I’m 100% confident in my ability to get you out of that shithole and into some assistance. Today. No excuses, we’re just going to do the work and make shit happen.
Please don’t do that other shit. That “it’s going to be better after Christmas/the weekend/2028” shit. It won’t. Not for Santa, not for some days off, and not for the next suspected end of times conspiracy date. It will get better the moment you decide you’ve had enough, and you’re ready to stand up and walk out.
I still have like 4 days to make my yams, so don’t worry about bothering me. I’m totally free to talk about it, just holler at your Queen. I’m sick of talking to Puffin anyway. She’s all small talk, and I hate chit chat.
When you’re ready, when it gets to be too much, thequeen@askabitchface.net, or hit my logo wherever you read me. 800-799-SAFE for a crisis counselor, or call them boys if it’s life threatening. They’ll come bust him in the face for interrupting turkey time. Serves his bitch ass right.
Happy Thanksgiving, y’all, and take care of y’all selves.
Love
-Q
Happy Thanksgiving, Queen🖤🖤🖤
Happy Thanksgiving! Sorry, been out in the sticks for two days...no WIFI wtf right? Hope yours was great!