Brit Bitches

practising the art of bitchary Brit style

Get some self-pride girl. April 30, 2010

I have an unfortunate child in my class.

Its self inflicted unfortunate freakness.

We are talking, sloth like gross behaviour.

She comes into school covered in grime and sweat.

This child doesn’t speak, she groans.

She sits there her legs perminately akimbo, mouth dropped open with a gormless expression filling her face.

Shoulders hunched, to the point of curvature of the spine setting in.

She groans ” I can’t do it ” She can never fucking do anything.

She groans again ” I hurt me leg” Did I mention that she is perminately complaining of some sort of ailment, head, throat, eye or limb injury.

She perminately has an ice pack attached to some part of her body. I hate to indulge, but its the ‘nanny state’ that we live in. Heaven forbid we don’t follow procedure!

This child needs a proper slap.

Have a wash, get some self pride and stop being so fucking growtesk!

 

A mother of all phonecalls!

Filed under: Crazy Bitches,The Daily Bitch. — bitchpedia @ 5:53 pm
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The ring of eardrum failure!

I just sit down to enjoy my evening.

The kids are in bed, the lunches are made and the washing up done.

I have a fluffy blanket and a glass of vino with my name on it….ahhhhh.

And relax………….aahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Ring ring, ring ring.

I glance at the phone.

There staring back at me, those dreaded four words. Dans Mum and Dad.

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

Just don’t answer, pretend your out. You no you don’t want to!

I’m just too bloody nice.

I answer, in my most fake happy voice.

I’m dying inside, that’s my evening fucked.

I in bark  on the marathon conversation that has become my weekly torture.

1 hour and 36 minutes later…… and she’s still spouting the same old shit. It wasn’t fucking interesting the first time, and it sure ain’t interesting now, either.

Pass me an ice block, the mother in law has finely forced me to repeatedly punch myself in the face-why am I still conscious ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

 

The Sloth parent. April 29, 2010

It makes me so cross. Grrrrrrrr

I was in the classroom, when in walked two of the persistently late kids.

“Sorry I’m late” she drones from the door. ” My dad wants to talk to you”.

Crap!  

The mans a fucking prick.

I smile and say ok, secretly thinking, if he wanted to speak to me then he should try getting his lazy fat arse out of bed earlier and speak to me before school. Rather than interrupt the entire class.

Twat!

Up I get, trying to take in multiple gulps of air.

My nazel passages are about to be violated.

I leave the room and sure enough, standing in front of me is the giant, dirty sloth of a man (I use the term man loosely, he’s more pig cross skunk beast ).

I deliberately stand as far back as possible, he fucking stinks, his humongous gut bulging over the top of his trousers and hanging out the bottom of his stained top.

I don’t want to make eye contact with him, but where do I look, he has dried toothpaste all around his mouth ( which kind of shocks me, so this family do have personal cleaning products who’d have thought it).

He starts moaning.

“Kileys brother as been given a behaviour book”  Yes, that’s because your shit parenting has made him feral.

” Kiley is feeling really left out, cause he keeps getting stuff when he’s good, and she don’t. So we were thinking, she could hav one as well” – No, fuckwitt, she can’t. I have better things to do with my time than panda to your fucking kids whims, cause you can’t control them.

I explain politely ( which pains me ) , that wasn’t possible due to the fact that she wasn’t badly behaved at school, yes, that’s right loser, she behaves for us because we have these little things called boundaries.

” He looks confused, maybe I used too many big words ”

Mental note: Keep language to 10 letter words or less.

Smelly fuckwitt parent: ” Sorry they were late, I got pulled over by the police cause I had 4 kids in the back. I don’t know what there problem is cause Tyler is only small”

Fuck me this man really is a moron!

Me: ” It doesn’t matter how big the children are, its down to the fact that you only have three seatbelts in the back. Even if they are really, really small, you can still only have 3 humans in the back of the car”  You have to ask yourself, should these people really be allowed to bare children?

Smelly fuckwitt parent: ” Yerrrr, maybe”  No, not fucking maybe freak. positively yes you cretinous freak.

Why the fuck am I wasting my time.

I end the conversation.

Life is too fucking short!

Somebody fucking shoot me.

 

Handy husbands.

Filed under: Kids! Who'd have em?,Men Are Muppets,Mental Notes to Self — bitchpedia @ 6:13 am
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Give it a few years love , DIY will wipe off that smile!

My husband took a week off work.

Great, that’s my week fucked up!

So he decides to paint the outside of the house.

Ok, so your all thinking, don’t be an ungrateful cow.

Off we go for a family trip to B&Q .

I follow my husband dotingly down the aisles, and the kids trail after us, causing a wave of destruction as they go.

Browsing in the solvents aisle (It crosses my mind, a week at home with both husband and kids, I might need one of these to get me though).

I look down the aisle.

It was then that I spotted the old man with mouldy head.

Oh crap- I look back and, to late, observant eldest child is on the case.

Eldest child: ” Mummy what is wrong with that mans head “She announced in her loudest shouting voice.

Next time I’ll get her a fucking loud-speaker!

Mother: ” Shhhh, be quiet and stop being so rude ”

She’s got a point though, what the fuck is that?

She shuts up and decides to stare opened mouth, tainted with a slight look of disgust at the man.

Not sure that’s an improvement in the rudeness stakes.

We buy up the aisle and make a swift exit.

Down to the DIY.

Husbands starts cracking open paint pots and balancing ladders on dangerously high roof beams.

WTF man, you need your arms and legs to work! I’m sure you should have safety ropes or something.

Its best I don’t look.

So I go and make myself useful and do my’ womans work’ inside (I would bitch slap my husband if he called it that).

Head in washing machine, I hear the familiar mating call of my husband. ” Is it time for a coffee yet ”

I don’t no love, have you put the fucking kettle on?

Dotingly I make the drinks.

Back to the painting and I get my head back into the washing machine.

Then that familiar mating call clashes with my ear drums again ” Do you no where my phone is love ”

Why the fuck would I know, Its your phone.

I find it and I return it to my husbands person.

Back to the washing machine.

Then I hear ” Pass me the screw driver”

Is he taking the piss?

Why the fuck, when a man takes on a bit of DIY, does it instantly turn us women folk into their general personal assistant.

When I’m knee-deep in washing, ironing and household scum , and he’s chilling in front of the tv.

You don’t find me hollowing from beneath a pile of skiddy pants

 ” Can you get me a coffee love

or

 ” Could you just pass me that spatula darling”

No, I start a job by myself and I fucking finish it by myself!!!!

Thus prooving, men really do need a mummy, not a wife!

 

Petty Bitch laugh a minute. April 28, 2010

WTF is up with the woman.

I was sitting outside the classroom, and all I can hear is this cackle of fake laughter flowing through the windows.

Now, I no, this ain’t real laughter.

We are talking about someone who is so boring, she can make a room full of 11 year old boys, in a sex education class fall a sleep!

When you’re in her class, Proplus is a must!

Is she that fuckin deluded, that she believes that if she cackles loud enough, all around her will suddenly believe she got a sence of humour from the Easter bunny!!

Face it love, you’re a dull as fuck.

No amount of laughing is gonna change that!

Get back to your bleaching Miss Petty Bitch!

 

The spirit of Hercules!

Filed under: The Working Bitch. — bitchpedia @ 8:14 pm
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I work with children with behavioural problems, we take part in a project to give them life skills.

Part of the course is all about being in the outdoors.

We were sitting in a log circle and communicating appropriately, the leader starts waffling on that she can feel the spirit of Hercules amoung us.

No love, the sprit of Hoodies with knifes!

Keep slurping the green tea love!

 

Man v Instruction manual. April 27, 2010

Craftsmen at work!

We brought a new barbecue at the weekend.

A simple construction, with equally simple instructions.

I open up the box and start reading the manual.

In walks ‘ the DIY king’  The husband.

Now, being a man, instructions, they laugh in the face of instructions!

” It alright love, it’s just a few nuts and bolts, I’m pretty sure we won’t be needing them” -Crap!

Yes dear, that will be why we live in a house of wobbly things!

He builds the barbecue, it doesn’t wobble and it does look like a barbecue.

By gosh, I think we will be able to cook on it.

Then I spy the left over nuts and bolts.

Wife: ” Don’t we need them”

Husband: ” They always put a few spares in”

What, a whole bag full!!!

Men: If the item your building contains instructions, then fucking use them.

Women: Hold your tongue, don’t suggest your man is doing it wrong, you might find a hammer imbedded in your head, simply suggest another way using your most non-threatning girly voice.