Sharing is caring

That’s what we’re always telling Girlfriend when she plays with her friends and the other day Alena came to Crissy and said “sharing is caring, right Crissy?” and Crissy said “it is” and Alena said “Girlfriend won’t share with me!” and so Crissy had to again remind Girlfriend that “sharing is caring and if you can’t share with Alena, you aren’t being a good friend” and she’s sick to death of hearing it but whatever.

We have to share. It’s just one of those kick you in the crotch and spit down your neck realities of life.

But you know what, Queefies?

Sharing is a cuntcheese.

Please don’t tell Girlfriend Crissy said that. Especially don’t tell her the cuntcheese part.

Can you imagine at school?

“I won’t share!  Sharing is a cuntcheese!”



Crissy hates sharing and its not that she minds sharing everything. Crissy doesn’t mind sharing her bag of cough drops or her tissues or surplus tomatoes from her garden or her bag of cheeba of Reese’s Whipps (which suck, btw. Don’t waste your money) Crissy sort of enjoys sharing those things.

What Crissy does not enjoy is sharing things like a car.  Last week Mister’s car was broken and so Crissy and Mister had to share Crissy’s car until the pieces came in to fix his car and holy crap was that a pain in the fanny and Crissy plans to use this as an argument for the new car because nobody was happy with that sharing a car bullshit and everyone knows new cars don’t break and they don’t need inspection stickers all the time either and Crissy’s car won’t pass because the clock is broken and the Inspector Man will probably take Sasha away and throw her in the trash can and so that’s why Crissy needs a new one.
So she won’t have to share.
Anyways, the reason why Crissy is thinking about all of this is because she got into her car and everything was totally fucked. All the mirrors showed Crissy the sky or the ceiling of the car.  The seat position was totally wrong and Crissy thinks Mister even left his ass print on it and it made it feel bad to Crissy’s sensitive and discerning tushie and Crissy is still trying to de-fuck the car by making little adjustments here and there and it may never get there, Queefs. It may just be fucked forever. It may always feel like somebody else has been using it.

Another reason why Crissy should have a new one.

Mister got Cooties on it.

Nobody likes Cooties on their car.

Broken clock + Ass indentation + Cooties = undrivable.

And you know what else he has his cooties on?  The computer.  Crissy and Mister share a lap top computer and it’s ALWAYS logged in as him. Crissy can log him out a hundred times a day and it still just wants him and Crissy is tempted to rip it’s mouse out and beat it about the keypad and shout “who’s the boss now, bitch?” and some day she will and maybe even give it  The TONY DANZA. And it’s on its last legs too, you know.  It has no sound.  Try for one second to imagine how bad it would suck if your computer had no sound.

Crissy will wait…


You want to kill yourself right now, don’t you?

Well imagine that being your life PLUS you have to share that piece of shit with somebody else who puts cooties on it.

He brings it into the BATHROOM!!!!

Crissy should have her own computer, clearly, and Mister is going to remind her that there’s a computer in the basement right near the cat box but don’t be fooled Queefies! That one is broken too!!!  AND it has CAT COOTIES on it.  He looks at kitty porn on it and Crissy is certain of that because one day she found this on the desktop:

For shame, Big Pussy.  For shame.

As you can plainly see, there is no end to the hardships Crissy is forced to endure, Queefies. It’s okay for you to weep for Crissy. Crissy weeps for herself every day. And then after that she masturbates a little bit because it comforts her and it takes some of the hurt and the bitterness away if for only just a little while…

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  1. I HATE driving other people’s cars for the same reason. Every time I get in my mom’s to cart her to the grocery store or somethin, I can’t see for shit. And it freaks me the fuck out when I’m driving and I can’t see behind me.

    Plus, her car has all these retarded automatic functions so even if I DO fix it, it goes back to fucksville in about .02 seconds.


    Ok, I think that was my rant for the day…
    .-= deutlich’s last blog post… Ha. ha. Ha. =-.

  2. I guess Mister forgot to tell you that we went to lunch in your car

    it was so hot that day and my shorts were tight so i just took everything off and sat bare assed on the passenger seat

    did i tell you i also have a chronic case of “roids”

    was that TMI?

  3. Mr.POSSLQ and I share his truck. We’ve had to glue the rearview mirror back on like 3 times in 5 years because every time we switch who is driving, everything has to be readjusted.

    And, I’m sorry, but I just laugh when I think of Big Pussy and Kitty Porn.
    .-= MsDarkstar’s last blog post… Caught in the Web =-.

  4. Note to Crissy: the remedy for cooties.

    “Circle, Circle, Dot, Dot, now I’ve got the cooties shot.”

    and for chronic cooties, verse 2:

    “Circle, Circle, Square, Square, now the shot is EVERYWHERE!”

    everything you need to know you really DO learn in kindergarten…

  5. Don’t sell yourself cheap (ummm, just don’t). Don’t get just a new car. This is obviously complete and total justification for a fine automobile which comes standard with memory seat settings.

    Thus should you ever have to loan your car to anyone who fathered your children, you could just push a button when they were done (cause they’re probably going to be too lazy and forgetful to push it themselves) and BAM! it’s your Royal Coach again just the way you like.

    And don’t let the fact that the only cars automobiles that come with memory settings are high-end luxury models. It can’t possibly be your fault they’re the only ones with enough foresight and caring to cater to your wants, needs basic human needs.

  6. And another thing… That “sharing is caring” is fine for most people but what if you just don’t give a fuck? Caring, my ass. You should teach Girlfriend to say, “Step away from my toys, bitch.” The Pill-Popping Mommies will love you. Really!
    .-= Dingo’s last blog post… Pound Of Flesh =-.

  7. Pimp- SEE? MY CAR IS TRASH! You even admit it. Their car, fast and posh as it may be, is an old person’s car. Not that I’d turn it down, but I think we need something sexier. Or, well, as sexy as we can get with two lame ass car seats in it.
    .-= crissy’s last blog post… Sharing is caring =-.

  8. Crissy be right, Pimpsie. Although I would save sexy for the underwear and go for interior S-P-A-C-E. Well SAFETY first, then space. Trust me.
    Since he George Costanza’d the laptop you have to buy one for your very own. It’s just the way it has to be.

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