You look like you just smelled some poo.

            You know what I fucking hate? 

The Bitch Face.

Y’all know what I’m talking about.  I see it all the time—these queens who walk around looking like they just smelled something foul.  They might be really nice guys, but they look like bitches, and it’s really irritating, and completely off-putting. 

Why in the world do you think it’s attractive to look like you’re always angry?  Honey, you aren’t a super model on the fucking catwalk in Paris, so quit trying to act like your god’s gift to the gayborhood.  Don’t any of you realize how powerful a genuine smile can be?  You can get away with some pretty crazy shit, if you have a nice set of pearly whites.  Hell, I’ll overlook a lot of drunken annoyance for someone if they at least look like they are nice, even if they aren’t.  But when you look like a bitch, and act like a bitch, I’m going to treat you like a bitch.

That’s even worse, though—the boys with the bitch faces, who act like a bitch.  I mean, I have a couple of really nice friends, but they’ve manicured the shit out of their eyebrows, so they always look like they kind of hate you, and I can overlook that eventually (and after enough to drink).  But if you’re going to look like a bitch, and act like a bitch, how in the world do you expect to make friends?  Or, even worse, how do you expect to ever get laid?  Who wants to fuck a queen who raises her nose at everything around her, unless there’s some cocaine around, and then you’ll lower that nose right onto that straw, now won’t you?

One of my biggest pet peeves is when I’m at a restaurant, or a bar, and whoever is serving me has a look of disgust, like I’ve done something so offensive just by walking into your establishment expecting to be served.  NEWSFLASH, douche bag, you’re in the service industry; it’s your job to serve.  You aren’t better than anyone else just because you happen to have been born (or later in life, purchased) a pretty face.  And if you’re so much better than me, what the hell are you doing working in the service industry?  Oh, that’s right, you can’t get a big boy job because you always act like a tool—and the only tool I like is the one in between my legs.  Oh and drills, I love drills.  Hammers scare me, I’m always afraid I’m going to hurt myself. 

I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have quite an attitude when I work—but it’s kind of my shtick.  I’m a smart ass, I talk back to everyone, and I love saying no.  But it’s all done in jest, and I think most of my customers can attest to my excellent customer service skills—when I’m working, it’s my job to serve you (not service, you dirty mother fuckers); I understand that, and I don’t think that it’s beneath me to do so. 

My boss told me once that I can say whatever I want to someone, as long as I have a smile on my face when I do.  And, oddly enough, it’s true.  A really good smile can warm the cockles of even the most stubborn of grumpy old men.  How do you think hookers get so much money from their clients?  Because they pretend to be nice.  Unless their clients are into guys who tie them up and humiliate them, but that’s just weird. 

I guess I don’t really have a point with this blog.  I just wanted to bitch for a hot minute, and since it’s my fucking blog, I get to do whatever I want, so nah nah nah.  Imagine me sticking my tongue out at you right now; it makes the previous sentence much more effective. 

Please ladies, take the butt plug out of your ass for a minute, it’s clearly too big for you to enjoy.  Eat a damn cheeseburger, because I always get extra bitchy when I haven’t eaten—maybe y’all are just hungry all the time.  And don’t throw it up afterwards, because that’ll give you a nasty case of halitosis.  Maybe you should even take off those super tight jeans that give you a moosenuckle in the front, and back fat in the rear, because perhaps the lack of blood circulation is making you so mean. 

Save the bitch faces for the Kardashian sisters, Drag Queens, and the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.  It’s kind of their thing—don’t take that away from them, because that’s all they have.  I sincerely hope the same can’t be said about you. 

PS, to any of my customers who think my customer service skills aren’t amazing, you can suck it. 

Or learn how to be nice to your bartenders. 

Because you probably deserved it.

Lord, I need a drink.