A Career Woman and A Housewife

Here's the deal, this our blog... This is where we come to write about our lives. The Good. The Bad. The Ugly. And of course, The Beautiful. We welcome anyone to come on in, take a look around and have a few laughs. Nothing makes us happier than nice comments and finding a new BLOG friend. If you can't handle what we have to say, just leave quietly and pretend you've never been here...We will retaliate.

Thursday, April 28, 2005

An Open Letter to the Bug-Eyed Bitch

Dear "My eyes are big, round bugs and I say that I am a counselor, but I am rather, a bitch who should never teach another day in my life"

You. Are. A. Bitch. and I hate you. I drove down to school last night to pick up the 6 million projects that you had us do throughout the semester and to eat with my girlfriends. I arrived home at approximately 7:30 p.m. to open my packet, and much to my surprise, calculated the grades on my project and have noticed that I am receiving my first B, EVER. I know that I am anal, and a perfectionist, and obsessive compulsive, but I deserve an A, dammit. I had some questions that I wanted to "politely" ask you bug-eyed, and I expected a "polite" response. I did not get one. You provided us with 8,000 numbers to get ahold of you so I used one, (your cell), and you answered, viola. You.Were.A.Bitch. and I hate you.

You pride yourself on being a doctor of counselor education, however, you appear to be a doctor of "how to make you eyes look like bugs and how to be a bitch." You were rude, un-professional, and demeaning. Hello, bug-eyed, I pay you, remember???? Anyways, I asked you the questions that I needed some clarification on - you were of no help. I asked you about final grades, I asked you about a score I recieved, and I asked for your help and, ya know, "guidance," get it. Isn't that your job? Ya know, to be a guidance counselor. You. Are. A. Shitty. Guidance. Counselor. Bitch. and I hate you.

For answers, you provided me with half-ass explanations and copped some freakin' attitude. You. Acted. Like. A. Bitch. and I hate you. And you made me cry. So I hung up on you, after sarcastically thanking you for your help. I called the director of the program next, to demean you and your teaching style in every way possible. But you already did so, didn't you? Because the director of the program, addressed me by saying that he and another "waste of an educator," were going to be contacting me after they got a hold of you. Um.... FOR WHAT?! It has become apparent that you are having a problem "evaluting me," but nobody wants to give me an explanation. Isn't that lovely counselor.

You see, something has become quite evident to me throughout all this, Dr. Bug Eye, you lied to me each time I phoned you regarding my absence from your sense-less, lesson-less, devoid-of-any-purpose-class. I called you once when I was sick. You excused my absence. I called you second time when my grandmother had a massive stroke. You excused my absence. And I called you a third time when my grandmother passed away. You excused my absence, and even sent you mother-f-in-lack-of-any-sentiment condolences. But you lied to me. Your half-assed, probably created by one of your elementary students who you tranquilized to come up with the syllabus with your bug-eyed radar, syllabus indicates that any UN-EXCUSED absence results in the loss of a letter grade. I, however, had all EXCUSED absences. You. Are. A. Lying. Bitch. and I hate you.

So, my question to you is, how can you not evaluate me? All my projects were turned in on time. You excused all of my absences. And you sent me your condolences. And your eyes look like big-round-bug-bulging-mother-f'in-blue-f$%^n-e-soccer balls. If I do not recieve an A, and this little discrepency is not taken care of in an efficent, attitude-free, manner, I will be forced to find you in your car (which I learned inhibited you from answering any of my questions, because the Lord knows that your mouth steers the damn car and pushes the f*&%$#^ peddle and brake), run it off the road, pull you out of it by your blonde-afro-puff, stomp on your face, pee in your mouth, take a big dooky on your forhead, and use my advocacy project billboard to scratch out your bug-eyed eye balls.

Thank you for your time you bitch, I hate you.
Career Woman


  • At 7:42 AM, Blogger A Career Woman and A Housewife said…

    Hehehehehe, I love your open letters! So funny! Please tell me again that you hate her, cause I don't think you made yourself clear. LOL

  • At 7:46 AM, Blogger A Career Woman and A Housewife said…

    I. hate. her.
    -Career Woman

  • At 8:11 AM, Blogger KE said…

    Don't forget to find out where she lives so I can casually "drop by" on my way home from the airport - Father Early won't mind making a quick stop - and deposit a burning match near her shrubbery. I'll do it in such a quick and elegant way (think old lady in Titanic throwing the blue diamond into the ocean) that no one will even notice.
    And if they do notice, they'll be distracted by the monsterosity of my womanhood and ignore the burning match.

  • At 8:35 AM, Blogger Erin said…

    hahahahahha, oh my gosh, i'm sorry but thats funny.
    she really is a big bitch. if you need help, i can be very very mean, and i know people....if you um, need anything...

  • At 8:39 AM, Blogger A Career Woman and A Housewife said…

    love the monstrucity (sp),hahaha... I laughed out loud... AGAIN, to the Titanic comment! This is why I love you so!

    see... I can be funny! haha... anyways, I hate her and will take all mean comments!
    -Career Woman

  • At 1:27 PM, Blogger Doug said…

    Now, why don't you tell us how you really feel.

  • At 12:24 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    best regards, nice info » »

  • At 4:46 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Very cool design! Useful information. Go on! » » »

  • At 6:12 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Very cool design! Useful information. Go on! »


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