Sunday, May 17, 2009

Read the book...

Before I went to see pretty pretty Keith Urban yesterday the kids ran in a fun run (not sure why fun and run are in the same sentence but whatever) and then we went to breakfast with some friends. It's nice to get out once in a while and visit with people. The kids played, we drank coffee and talked. The wife has become a good friend of mine and I enjoy her company. However, sometimes I become exasperated with the things that come out of her mouth (which is a common feeling when hanging out with the ladies in this town - apparently they all seem to have diarrhea of the mouth).
We were having yet another conversation about the west side of this crapass town being better than the east side. This conversation seems to come up at least a dozen times a year while hanging out with different people that grew up here. Here's a tip - both sides are truly the epitome of horrible so move on. Anyway, as we're having this convo yet again I mentioned that a couple years ago we had to discuss this at length when we ran into TC's high school sweetheart at TJMaxx. My friend said "Oh, Pollyanna - she's so sweet". OK - hold the phone sweetheart. In the girlfriend handbook it clearly states that even if the ex is a doctor who feeds the homeless in her spare time she's still a whore. Either that or don't say anything at all. And no I don't care if it was 27 years ago the woman is still a beast.
I met this person - she's tiny, a nurse and seems to be pretty nice. However, if she hadn't cheated on TC in college and broken his heart there's a chance he could have beautiful dark headed children instead of the fair hairs he has. It ticks me off every time her stupid mug is in the paper about being a nurse practitioner - blah blah blah. All I want to read in the paper is that she was arrested for prostitution or caught in a ponzi scheme.
Am I jealous - apparently. Do I think I have anything to worry about - probably not. Does my friend need to worry about what kind of ugliness I'm cooking up for next time - you betcha! If her husbands ex wasn't a raving lunatic I would go on and on about how super fantastic she is.
My girlfriends in Atlanta wouldn't do this. They would agree that she was "bless her heart" wretched. People here don't seem to get that and it drives me crazy. If you think she's swell then just listen to the story and keep your pie hole shut. Or read, memorize and abide by the rules in the book. Or go be friends with a whore - I don't care...

1 comment:

Tiffany said...

Man, you are funny! I assume that this friend doesn't read your blog...
I agree that fun and run do not belong in the same sentence. I do not run unless I am being chased. Lately, I've wondered if I even COULD run if I was chased.