Brit Bitches

practising the art of bitchary Brit style

A mothers time is most certainly not her own. October 31, 2011

Any of you mums out there will know that, when you pop out a baby, from that second onwards your time is no longer your own.

Never will you have a wee in the peace and tranquility your urine deserves, because the minute you release those pelvic muscles (well those muscles that weren’t destroyed by the trauma that is childbirth) and the wee starts to flow , you will suddenly hear the pitter patter of tiny feet, in my case the not so tiny patter of 8 and 5 year old feet.

So it begins ” Mum, you said we could have something out the sweetie jar, Mum you said I could go on the laptop!!

Its funny I don’t remember making any of these promises.

For some reason I always start to enter into dialogue with them, then suddenly, it strikes me, why am I sitting on the loo arguing about sweets surely the sweets can wait the 5 minutes that I have oh so selfishly alacated to myself!

The bathroom for us Mums is clearly know longer a relaxing tranquil environment in which to relax and have ME time, no, it is now a place to perform every day necessary functions such as going to the toilet and washing.

Speed is of the essence, as no member of your family ( I include the fully grown adult who shares the house with you, commonly known as The Husband, in that comment) can possibly do without your presence ( the real reason 2 in 1 shampoo was invented) for more than 5 minutes.

This weekend I was having one of those relaxing 5 minute shower breaks when in bursts Youngest son. He informs me he has something really important to tell me, so I listen incase someone has drowned in their frosties. Turns out its not that important, Daddy can’t find the controls!

I look at my darling boy, but he is all of a sudden distracted…….” Mummy why is your willy furry?”.

Ok, two things, must spend time explaining to youngest son that boys have willys and girls have bitbits ( at 5 vagina seems a little harsh!), and I really must book that waxing appointment!

 

A meeting of minds-retarded minds! June 9, 2010

The staffroom was its usual inspiring self today.

I’m sitting there supping on my tea, trying to eat my banana in my most non-sexual way, purve boss is clearly checking out my lip sucking skills.

The Squirrel comes in, her bag bursting with high calorie lardy snacks.

She whips open her foil package,  the smile on her face tells me, she has been waiting for this moment. The whole 2, yes 2 hours since school started this morning.

She reveals two heavily buttered slices of bread, and then cracks open a packet of salt and vinager- declaring “You can’t beat a crisp sandwich” Clearly not, you lard arse.

Just as she’s about to start describing, her love of the deep-fried foods, in walks Dumb arse bitch (DAB).

Am I about to witness the meeting of minds, retarded Nasa of the future?

DAB: ” Oh that looks nice, I haven’t had one of them in ages, my Jake loves a nice sandwich. Problem is, the bread just gets stuck in his brace” This kid must look like one hell of a freak, he has a dodgy eye, a nervous twitch and braces stuffed with last nights dinner. His class mates must be having it on their toes with that kind of material at their finger tips.

The Squirrel: ” I had a brace, I was always getting food stuck in it” I’m surprised you were willing to share your food with your brace- wonders will never siese. ” You need to make sure he brushes his teeth properly” Fuck me she should write a parenting book!

DAB: ” Well I do try. I was doing his teeth last night and I found a bit of  Tuesdays tea in it” That fucking freak could have a whole chicken stuck in his brace and it still wouldn’t detract from his twitching.

The Staffroom a place of intelligent conversation, not in my school, a place where retards are free to express themselves.

The world would be a more retarded place with those muppets educating the young and impressionable.

 

Just say NO! May 18, 2010

Maybe I’m just a little to protective.

But I have just watched a woman give her two-year old chewing gum.

Now, I don’t mean to be judge mental ( even thought , I am bloody good at it), but that’s fucking stupid.

Errrr, love. Have you ever heard of choking??

Or did you miss that parenting class.

Along with the one about telling your fucking kid, NO now and again.

Maybe just maybe, that’s why the world is full of obnoxious childish twats.

Because, Mummy never said NO.

Get the tit out of your mouth, he’s a big boy now and tell him fucking NO!

Deal with it now.

Or this dickhead ain’t ever gonna get a girlfriend.

 No self respecting girl is gonna want  a bloke who spits the dummy everytime she says NO!

 

Snotty Pikey kids. May 10, 2010

Why do pikey kids perminately have snot smeared across their faces.

They apply it like there mums do foundation, with a trowel and no mirror.

Does all that chip fat destroy the feelings in their dirty little faces.

So they can no longer feel the slime that engulfes their skin.

Mum’s, stop watching Jeremy Kyle, put down your fag and get a fucking tissue.

Your kid has more snot on him than last nights pie and chips.

 

Stranger danger. May 3, 2010

My three-year old son has been learning about stranger danger.

Clearly he missed the important message that the police were giving out.

As we walked home.

A stranger approaches.

So Oscar shouts out ” Hello Stranger ” 

I close my eye and shake my head in despair.

He seriously believes, if he says hello to the stranger, then they are know longer a stranger.

Problem solved,  in his tiny mind!

Mental note: Must do more intensive work on stranger danger.

 

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.

 

The ranting educator. April 26, 2010

Filed under: Gene Pool Rejects,The Working Bitch. — bitchpedia @ 8:16 pm
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Being a teacher is not all it’s cracked up to be.
For one thing we don’t start at 9 and finish at 4.
But that’s not the half of it, endless streams of twatish parents, who through gritted teeth, we are forced to take the abuse and answer in a polite manner.
Even Facebook offers no respite( teaching staff are banned from blogging on that too).

You think that any parent, even the twatish ones would be grateful if you took their child to A&E for emergency treatment, because they couldn’t be arsed to collect her and take her themselves, apparently not.
No they decided the way to thank me, was to scream abuse at me and shout comments like ” U comin out for a fag, no, you look to innocent for that”, ” why you bring her er, there ain’t nothing wrong with er. It’s the fucking school making a fuss.”
No fuckwitt, she was about to go in to a diabetic coma and die!
What the fuck is up with these people!