Today’s post is full of foul; don’t say I didn’t warn you.
I have Endometriosis. Yesterday, mother nature dropped her bomb and today I’m auctioning off my uterus to the lowest bidder. Hell, I’ll give the bitch away.
I wish I could adequately describe the pain in my lower back to those who don’t suffer from this shittastic monthly problem. Let’s just say me and my heating pad have an understanding even though he’s burned me a time or twenty.
Now let’s talk about the bloating that also accompanies the menses.
I. Look. Pregnant.
Early second trimester. It’s ridiculous. Fortunately, I have yet to be a victim of “oh you’re pregnant!” because it wouldn’t end well for the person that uttered those words. I would most likely throat punch them then follow it up with a Go Fuck Yourself.
And to top it all off I have a really bad attitude right now. This is the ONLY time of the month that I can say anything to anyone and have no regrets. None. Zero. Zilch.
I’m like a bad infomercial.
“Do you need to tell someone off but don’t know how?? Well here’s your chance folks. Call 1-900-oliveoylmomma and for the low rate of just .10 cents a minute she’ll gladly tell every rat bastard mother fucker that’s ever done you wrong or looked at you cross eyed where to go and exactly how to get there. Don’t delay, call today!”
Now, some of you may be thinking, “this crazy bitch needs a doctor!” Well I have one. And her answer was Prozac. Let me tell you what THAT did. It took the edge off. So my filter was slightly thicker, but I still told random strangers to eat shit and die.
Normally I’m a really, really nice person. I like to bake cookies and shit. And cuddle with puppies.
But not today. Tomorrow isn’t looking good for me either.
So there you have it. Once a month every month I’m an asshole.
Thanks for stopping by!
Olive Oyl Momma
P.S. Today I’m not laughing BUT, I would like to so please, tell me something funny. Anything. I’ll only ask nicely once and then you know what could happen…