This weekend Crissy took Girlfriend to dancing class which is going rather well except for the lovely habit girlfriend is in now where she participates and enjoys and then drops to the floor and starts to cry approximately 10 minutes before the class ends and the teacher winds up dancing with Girlfriend on her hip while she puts her hands down the teacher’s shirt.
Crissy thinks this may be an elaborate plan because Girlfriend might be a lezzie.
And we were waiting for class to begin and Girlfriend was in the play area with another little dancer and she went up to her and very sweetly said “would you like to play with me?” and the Little Cuntbitch looked her up and down, put a puss on her face and was all “No. I’m here to dance.”
And Crissy’s heart broke into a thousandy million tiny pieces as Little Cuntbitch’s mommy giggled like “oh aren’t they sweet?” and looked on with pride as if her kid didn’t just snub my kid and Crissy wanted to pull her greasy fucking pony tail right off her head and beat her with it. Crissy thought about making a comment to Little Cuntbitch’s mommy like “nice sweatpants, cow. I’m going to kill you now.” but she wants to set a good example for Girlfriend and so entertained homicidal fantasies in her head as is proper behavior for a mom at dance class with her daughter. Crissy is pretty sure she made the right choice. Also, Michele and Alena weren’t there yet for backup and Crissy was not sure how many of the other mommies were friends with Little Cuntbitch’s mommy.
Crissy would have played out the violence in her head with her Barbies for you but she just now thought of it.
Maybe for tomorrow.
And Girlfriend seemed totally unphased by it but can Crissy get real with you Queefs for a moment?
It brought Crissy right back to her formative years when Crissy was a wee little Crissy and had the misfortune of being a lowly teacher’s daughter in a town full of rich assholes whose children excluded her and made fun of her because her clothes weren’t Jet Set or Esprit or Liz Claiborne and her mom drove this:
instead of this:
And we didn’t go on vacations to Bermuda or Hawaii. We took picnics to the park and the zoo for our vacations.
And Crissy had only one other little kid who would play with her because Puttin’ on the Ritz (that’s what the Mean Girl gang called themselves) didn’t like her either because her dad was a teacher too and her mom had a beat up old Volkswagen Rabbit and she had 8 brothers and sisters and wore hand me downs and smelled like cabbage.
Oh how Puttin’ on the Ritz made Crissy’s childhood painful. And Crissy took it all like a bitch because she didn’t know how to handle a bully and instead was always trying to get out of school with multiple fake illnesses because she didn’t want to face the mean girls.
And Crissy knows this isn’t the only time some little twat is going to be mean to Girlfriend and so Crissy is just thinking of taking her out of dancing class and putting her in Ninjutsu class instead because fuck the dumb shit.
Girlfriend should be kicking ass and asking questions later.
How long do you Queefs figure it will take for Girlfriend to become a Ninja?
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- Jesus Tap Dancing Christ
- Hot! Hot! Hot!
- If You’re Good At Sports, Crissy Hates You.
- Okay, so maybe Jazzercise is like, fun or whatever
- You do Fosse, Fosse, Fosse! You do Martha Graham, Martha Graham, Martha Graham! Or Twyla, Twyla, Twyla! Or Michael Kidd, Michael Kidd, Michael Kidd, Michael Kidd! Or Madonna, Madonna, Madonna!