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Chick Shit for Chic Chicks!
Your Queen is back and ready to whip all you bitches into shape.
Unlike the others that work for this site, I don't pussyfoot around. If I see a problem, I fix it. Whatever the
final results are makes no difference to me since I am always right and everyone else is wrong. That's why I am
who am.
With all the email I received, I can't help but notice that a lot of you have some serious problems. I am here
to help, but I'm not your mother. Just do what I say and you'll be better.
The following is the best email I received. Best in the way that this isa person in serious need of my help.
From "Confused":
"Hi Yvonne.
Hopefully you can help me. I met a wonderful man who I want to spend the rest of my life with. Even though I'm
good looking, I just don't have the best luck with men. I do have a couple of kids and I haven't told the new man
yet because I'm afraid it might scare him away. What should I do?"
Well, for one thing, I don't think you should be going by the name of "Confused". "Loose Girl' might
be a bit more like it.
For another thing, when you tell me that you're good looking, I will automatically assume that you are not. Don't
try to kid me or yourself. I'm smarter than you and can see right past your desperate lie.
No luck with men? That's another lie. You had to have had sex with at least two men since you have two children.
And the reason I know this is because no man would stick around long enough with a whining bitch like you in order
to fill your womb with his baby making juice.
Don't tell your new man about the kids. Use him for as much as you can get. If her ever wants to come over to your
place, put the kids in that broken refrigerator in your garage. Kids love stuff like that and when they start screaming
to be let out, it's no big deal since refrigerators are virtually soundproof.
So go ahead and show your new man the whore that you really are. It's okay to lie about some things, but you need
to be honest to him about the type of person you really are.
It's tea time now so I have to go. I, your Queen, grant you permission to leave.
NEXT WEEK: I help someone
else, probably someone like you.
Email Melissa!
webmaster@theweirdcrap.com
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