There is just something syrupy sicking about a grown woman who insists on baby talk in public.
And not just for one quick phrase.
There is what appears to be a 30+ year old woman who has been talking like a baby since she walked in the door just ahead of me 10 minutes ago.
It was cute for the first 20 seconds.
Past that and my brain began to whimper and wonder what it had done wrong.
It makes me wonder what is wrong with her and what is wrong with the poor asshole she walked in with.
She doesn’t talk to anyone else but him.
She is not a stunning woman, in fact, I would have to call her looks/body very average.
There is not an earthy sexuality that makes up for it.
The only reason I can think of that would make this mid-30’s half-a-tard bitch acceptable is that a choir of angels must sing when she spreads her legs. (Crude line, but it so fits this situation. You aren’t here, don’t judge.)
And before you say anything, I AM being nice.
What kind of twisted baggage would you need to have to retreat into a child-like persona?
Boggles the mind.
Much like the various stages of grief, I am working thru the various stages of annoyance.
I have moved on from gritting my teeth in annoyance and begun to actively hate her.
Hopefully they will leave before I move on plotting her death.
Google has ponied up a number of websites on the subject of assassination, but none are particularly helpful.
One site that seems promising will not load.
This lop-headed dumbass owes her life to Starbucks and their crappy wifi.
The wifi I have at the house has not gone down once in the last 5 years.
Starbucks? 50% of the time, you may as well use two tin cans connected with string for all the good it will do you.
Maybe its a metaphor.
Disfunctional wifi, disfunctional bitch. (The word bitch is being used liberally this week as a tribute to the trio of feminists that keep emailing me to complain. You girls need to find some men, have some babies, and quit worrying about man-talk so much. And if that doesn’t piss them off, then they must be trying to connect to the blog over Starbucks wifi.)
This is the kind of woman that her first boyfriend in her teens told her babytalk was cute and she has adopted it as her lifestyle.
Without a doubt, there is a Hello Kitty stuffed animal at her house and maybe a tote bag.
Her toothpaste is bubblegum flavored and her toothbrush is in the shape of the little mermaid.
Her purse is clear plastic and has a “My pretty pony” graphic on it.
Her coffee drink follows the same teen logic.
Its an overly sweet melted sundae complete with whipped cream and drizzled caramel. No doubt hiding in there is a faint coffee flavor.
The slack look on her face will take on a serious boo boo face when this guy comes to his senses and breaks up with her.
You can only sleep with someone that acts like a little girl for so long before it begins to get creepy.
And creepy sex is no fun.