Click Click Boom!

Cliques are funny. It's like channel surfing except they are real people frolicking around in their own little world right there in front of you. Think back to high school a second, or a minute or two for you grandmas, and try to remember that one clique that really got to you.

For some, it was the Jocks, those dimwitted active sacks of yummy meat. Maybe it was the Goths, so misunderstood and non comformists who all dressed alike and hated the world together for the same non-existant reasons. Maybe it was the Nerds, those poor defenseless pipsqueaks who werent getting any play but damn if their virginal asses werent going to Harvard. My personal favorite to observe was the Self Proclaimed Bad Girls Club. Mind you, I didnt like them or hate them. They were more like the car accident on the highway that you just couldnt stop watching though it was a hideous sight to see; beneficial to my twisted sense of amusement and yet they pulled at my heart strings of pity.

The Kitty Bish do have some love for The Bad Girls Club and heres why...Who isnt amused by the self proclamations. You had the offical Hard Ass, the Slut, the High Class Snob, the Manipulator, the Snitch, the Glamour God, the list goes on and on of what these bitches called themselves. Whether they walked around with a tag or just plain old flaunted their mental deficiency, I was titilated. I like that word cuz it has tit in it. DONT JUDGE ME!

Better still are the girls who grow up holding on to their tags. Its like a haggard Miss America still talking about that shit and practicing the wave 50 years later. Even better than that are the ones who gave themselves tags later on in life because they were nobodies way back when. Talk about making up for lost time. These girls grew into desperate women for whatever reasons, insert pathetic sob story of tragedy/loss/abuse here, and somehow are convinced they can use that to skate by.

NEWSFLASH: These "Bad Girls" wouldnt last a fucking day, a second, not even a nano-second in actual reality. Time to take off the rose colored glasses ladies and wake the fuck up. The Kitty Bish has watched far too many people over the years play their sad little games and in turn, do anything they can to stay at the top...but at the top of what? Behind EVERY supposed bad girl is someone who has planted a seed, who has pulled the puppet strings and made these grotesque hoes do the jig. Because I have so much love for these lost little women, I feel the need to be the giver of gifts. I'm your FTN! Santa Claus bitches. Do not sit on my lap as your crab infestation may somehow get onto my leg. Im not all about the itchy seafood so you just keep your nasty taco at bay and I'll happily launch my gifts at your face.

For the slut: A can of Lysol. Use as directed. DIRECTIONS: Stick into your nasty loose floppy sloppy stinky crusty moldy vaggy hole and clamp down. This should activate the fumegation process and in no time you will either die of poisoning or at least have a pine smelling cream hole.

For the hard ass: Laxatives. While you are stuck on the shitter dwelling on your daddy issues, take some time to realize that there is always someone tougher, stronger, smarter and just overall better than you. Face reality and once your raw asshole is done vomiting, feel free to get off your high horse and wake the fuck up. YOU ARE NOT UNTOUCHABLE. Kitty Bish loves this line and knows it to be true for a fact...the bigger the skeazer, the harder that hoe falls!

For the high class snob: A trash can. Throw all of your materialistic shit in this trash can...stfu its a really big one okay! Once all of your shit is in this trash can, you are free to set the trashcan on fire, pick up said blazing trash can and flip over to rest over your snooty little head. Feel free to turn your nose down now so you can get the full effect. Once your shit is taken away, you're just a nobody with nothing. Should've spent more time on a personality huh? HER FACE, HER FACE, HER FACE IS ON FIRE, WE DONT NEED NO WATER, LET THE COCKSUCKER BURN!

The manipulator: A pair of scissors. These are to cut the strings. As much as you are convinced you are running the show, you arent. You are doing the dance just as your puppet master wants you to. You're just too fucking stupid to see it. Feel free to stab out your eyeballs after cutting the strings. There is no reason for this other than it will make me laugh. Thank you kindly.

The Snitch: A self help book. This person is also known as an ass kisser, title chaser, attention whore. Though I doubt you can read, here at FTN! we are hoping that you will at least get to the chapter where you have some breakthrough and realize that you are only doing what you do because you feel all sad about yourself because someone called you fat or stupid or ugly or some shit as a child. Get the fuck over it and be an adult. I like this type the least because they are the most pathetic. Oh the poor victim. Look up martyr.

The Glamour God: Soap and Water. Besides the fact that you fucking wreak of bacterial sludge, clean off your face and stare in a mirror. Mask it all you want but no Revlon, no new skin or hairstyle, no new clothes or fly kicks are going to take away from the fact that you are an ugly fucking human being. Feel free to shove said bar of soap in your nether regions. In 2020, it may finally be sanitized.

Now, here at FTN! we are all about redemption. There is nothing to say that these sad little people cant change. Maybe but it is ever doubtful. They usually turn into really nasty looking ladies you avoid at the grocery store who talk to themselves and reminisce about that one time they meant something somewhere, to someone. Feel free to go to your nearest Grocer and pick up the items mentioned, hand them out immedietly. Hell make a little gift basket. Though I love you for the laughs...SELF PROCLAIMED BAD GIRLS WHO ARE JUST SAD LITTLE SHEEP...F.T.N!

~Special thanks to AMABOO for the idea for this post, mad love and shit

~The Kitty Bish