Volume 2, Number 8
At Last... a club for me!
Up until now, my association with clubs has been limited to sporting clubs and licensed clubs; nothing like a drink after a game! But now, I've found it. The club for me, the one I've been waiting for all my life.
I discovered it when I least expected to. I was cruising the web aimlessly, just looking for something to send to my friends (or another installment of meaningless crap, as it has been referred to) when there it was. The Heartless Bitches Club.
The attraction was instant, and when I saw the graphic of the axe slashing into the bleeding heart , I knew this was where I belonged.
While I didn't have time to read all the articles contained within this site, but there were some very promising headings such as :
Perhaps "Having a hard time finding Ms. Right?" may have been a little off the beaten track in my case, but I'll definitely be giving the others a read real soon.
I hope they accept me as a member; I've certainly got some of the right qualifications. You don't have to be a woman to be a bitch, you just have to be nasty. Observe....
Exhibit A: The crushed remains of a small plastic bird, circa 1979. This token of first love met a cruel fate, as did countless others in the years to come. As a young girl, I was renowned for my ability to impart black eyes rather than kisses at the bottom of the sports fields.
Exhibit B: Tears, tears and tears. Any heartless people can measure their worth in tears, and I've certainly milked litres in my time. Friends, enemies and even my own mother have been driven to tears at my uncharitable, frustrating and just plain bitchy actions. My own tears have also been shed at appropriate times, but only after calculating the precise impact they would have on intended targets, of course.
Exhibit C: The poor, the stupid, the ugly, the deformed, the minorities, the rich, the bland, the clumsy, the insane, the extreme, the weak, the idiotic and the dead. All of these groups of people can safely bet that, in an uninformed and callous attempt to be funny, I have cruelly taken the piss out of them for something that is probably impossible for them to fix and only a problem to narrow-minded superficial bitches like myself. Good for a laugh though.
It seems as though I'm a shoo-in for membership doesn't it? I wonder what the initiation rituals are... Some good ones would be (insert appropriate gender to suit):
Actually, now that I think about it, maybe I'm not heartless enough for this club. I mean, I try to help old people, I feed my cat (and various strays) regularly, and I really enjoy spending time with little kids when no-one's looking (without any attraction to overcoats and secluded playgrounds!).
Damn. I really thought this could have been it. No more lonely nights, just one long idyllic bitch session over cocktail after cocktail. You know, quality time spent putting other people down and asserting our own superiority over others who dare to be different. Guess it just wasn't meant to be.
Oh well, as my family delight in droning, "there's plenty more fish in the sea". And knowing the electronic cornucopia that is the Internet, there's just got to be a fish site that suits me perfectly. Any suggestions?