Nice Girls Don’t Get Angry.

Does anybody else have those thoughts you’re not supposed to say out loud?

I know there are women reading this that know exactly what I mean. After all, nice girls don’t get angry.

* smile *

The only thing I remember from criminology in college is that arson is almost always a predominantly white man’s crime. I’d like to test that theory. When I dabbled with writing lyrics for country music, I  always joked that, much like Miranda Lambert, I’m way more homicidal than  I am suicidal. Sometimes I get so angry, I just want to light something on fire just to watch it burn.

* Cue:  Lambert’s ‘Kerosene’ *

I think it’s much better than, say, jumping off a bridge.  Prison can’t be that bad, and I can make friends anywhere. I know now why men knock heads on the gridiron. It has to be a stress reliever. Why don’t we have football, girls?!

Sure, life. I’ll just keep taking your shit! It’s what I do. I’m Candi! I TAKE EVERYBODY’S SHIT and make it my fault.

Because I’m a WOMAN! That’s what we do! That’s our role!

* eye roll *

I need a drink.

Only, I haven’t had one in a decade. So I’ll just eat another piece of cornbread!!

Color me exhausted of it all, y’all. I need a new knee. I could handle shit 24/7  when I could run myself stupid. I think when ladies are little, they ought to pull us aside in elementary school, and teach us a class called “Oh hell, no!”

You know?

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