Good Evening, And Welcome To Tonights Edition
We here at Ask A Bitchface ask that you keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times.
Today is B Man’s birthday, first and foremost, so if you haven’t sent him a gift or joined his fan club, I will call you names to your face if I run into you. Y’all show my right hand man some love like he does for all y’all.
I love you, Brian Gee, you’re the best big homie/bruh/fif flo type I know, and I wish I could buy you a drink, but you don’t drink, and the damned country is shut down. Bitches always want to try to rain on our damned parade.
I digress.
So, in lieu of my usual locked on a target mentality today, I’ve come to you to note the random bullshit I saw in my virtual and literal travels today. Look, it’s Easter, I know y’all gather, kids doing kids things, etc. Here is my whole entire issue: If I can' hear your baby coughing and hacking as she is running around, and she sounds like she has been smoking 2 packs a day all 7 of her little years, you need your ass whipped on Easter Sunday.
I know that this is the first locked down holiday, but shit like that is exactly why we’re stuck in the house. Because bitches can’t seem to wrap their brain around the idea that going out and exposing everyone and possibly complicating an illness not concrete in terms of how to obliterate it is a fucking terrible idea. And not even you, but your baby who doesn’t know any better? Bitch, you can go ahead and get your tiara and sash because you just won the “First Bitch To Get Slapped By Ms. Macon On Easter” award.
I should have known at that very moment that leaving the house was not going to be in my best interest, but I have dogs that really don’t care, so off we went. In the days prior to being my own prison warden, I would smile and wave to the folk I pass on our little adventure. Now, I am just in disbelief as people still want to stand close enough to be my esthetician and try to talk to me. No. No. No no no.
So, in my typical fashion, I ask “do you know if it’s been legalized to physically remove someone from your 6-foot boundary by force if necessary, or do I have to beat someone’s ass and then turn myself in?”
Clearly, you don’t value your own life standing this damned close to me, but you will value mine before we leave this damned store. I can’t stand the need to idiot-proof. It reminds me of the McDonalds coffee lawsuit way back when, and back then I said: “let nature sort out the weak links”. Today, I thought the very same thing.
There is not a reason in this world that someone ever needs to be within arms reach of me, because the only people I let that close to me are sharing my last name, and I have known them in excess of 30 years. Even still, sometimes I jook to the left at the last second. I’m not that chic. I’m not that “let me get a hug” chic. No. No. Hell no motherfuck no. No.
So, I come back to my little corner of the world, ready to breathe my uninfected sigh of relief, and I arrive to the sight of approximately 94 children across the street. I think about 2 and a half adults. Do you know what every one of these kids are doing? Coughing, wiping their noses on their hands before immediately grabbing the arm of the child next to them, eating and drinking after one another, basically just Typhoid Tylering the whole. damned. group.
I almost passed out my blood pressure was so high. I couldn’t figure out if I wanted to stand there and glare until all the kids cried, or if I should just let the dogs walk around without a leash for 2 minutes and clear the whole neighborhood. None of the 90 extra children live in any of the houses on my street. We’ve been infection-free. Now, we just received 90 other streets nastiness via the community grape Fanta, and I am fucking livid.
Right about then, my neighbor sees me looking like I’m fixing to start my cauldron to bubbling, and I’ll admit, I was thinking that heat would kill all of that snot and congestion I was witnessing. She comes as far as my mailbox and asked if the kids were bothering my work with the noise.
I like this neighbor, really, I do. I also don’t try to parent other peoples kids unless there isn’t a more adultlike adult in a 2 mile radius. But these kids touch my gate, porch, and door at least once a day, and I just saw 94 kids share more fluids than that advertisement for Pornhub on the scrolling banner made to cause you to double take and question what was really happening there. I would be remiss if I didn’t- let me stop, I don’t give a fuck about remiss. I had to tell her about how ignorant this entire scene is because I do that, and I just can’t care about your feelings when you obviously don’t care about my life.
I said “are you aware that this very zipcode is the hotbed for this nonsense, yet we’ve managed to be ok until this point? That’s not by accident, I’m sure you understand, and what you’re doing out here today, I’m fucking blown away”. It was the nicest way I could tell her that I thought she was the dumbest bitch in this county and she should have her ass whipped for putting her kids in danger, but I’m trying to live here a while, and having to whip her ass at the mailbox every day is going to cause issues, I can foresee that without a crystal ball.
She lamed out. She knew that whatever answer she mustered, I probably wasn’t going to hear because of the steam leaving my ears. I think she actually mumbled a response. Which, of course, made me even more pissed off. I said some unneighborly things, y’all, I won’t lie, but they were merited.
Who, in the wake of seeing the effects of this on our economy, would think that defying the distancing at this junction is going to fly with the neighbors? I don’t care if you’re stupid where nobody can see you. You’re airing your stupid out on the front lawn, and with the kids involved, no less. Look, we all want to come and go as we please, but I also want my damned money, and until businesses are earning, they’re not paying me to write their advertising. That’s a problem with me. That’s my damned money.
I don’t even know how to get past that moral of the story. Let this shit die so we can get some jingle in our pockets again. I don’t like being broke, it looks terrible on me, like crimson tones or kitten heels; it simply dulls my natural shine. Unacceptable.
Bitches out here being nominated for “The Second Bitch To Get Slapped By Ms. Macon On Easter Sunday”, y’all get ready, y’all fixing to hear “Envelope, please…”
Stop being ignorant. Damn.
Thanks for a great read, as usual, and for the heads up on BMan’s birthday. Going to send my regards ASAP!
What is wrong with those people? They think that hideous virus takes holidays off? Bloody kids are like Petri dishes on a good day. There are too many generations who haven't experienced unnecessary death by preventable diseases. I would have put the fear of God into all of those morons. But, you're much nicer than I am. Julia the Ogre