I understand that 90% of all questions on the forum have been answered before. Such is the way of forums…even ones centered around a computer program. That it was started by a teacher as a resource for his students is not important to you. Because you are, of course, only a part of the forum to answer the really advanced questions.

And that is fine. Answer any questions you like. Noone is getting paid to help others here.

But if you do not want to waste your precious time on beginner questions, why for All That Is Holy do you have to be an ass about it?

The forum will regularly get questions like “Help!!! I didn’t save my drawing for three hours and now the computer just shut down on me!!!!! How do I get my drawing back?!?!” 

I understand that the first urge is to answer “You should have saved it before you lost it”. It is my first urge too.

But I don’t do it. Because it is not going to help anyone. It’s just going to make you look like an asshole. And do you know what assholes get?

That’s right. A big fat Mushroom Print.

Regards

The Female Forum Mod

Listen up, whorebag fuckface. Where was I when you needed someone? Who drove FOUR HOURS with an autistic kid and an infant to take you grocery shopping and get you drunk? Who practically perjured themselves as the first reference on your state bar application? Who left three kids to fly across the entire country to help you when you had another baby and no job? Oh wait. That was me.

I was rewarded by you lying to me, ignoring me and telling everyone on your stupid Facebook page that I was harassing you and mentally unstable.

So here’s a little something for you in return: I give you warning. A nice, long head start in what has inevitably turned into a paramount quest to even the scales. You will not think of me, as you haven’t been, when law school turned you into a self-centered, know-it-all, how-dare-you-have-a-different-opinion-than-me fucking bitch. They must have given Asshole Cards to even the graduates in the bottom 10%. You will have forgotten all about me, and forgotten that I know some very dangerous and career-changing things about you.

I’m a patient person. I can wait. Then you’re going down. With a big, fat mushroom print on the side of your face.

Three years ago I left you for more reasons than can even be put into words. Being the control freak asshole that you are, you have never been able to get over that.  In the last three years of my life you have tried in every way possible (and illegal) to ruin my life with that whore you were screwing when we were together and now call a “fiancée.”

After being married to you for years, I realized your mother is as big a psychopath as you are. I remember telling her about your physical abuse and she told me “you probably deserved it.” WOW. After I left, I drew the line on her calling to talk to our children when she tried to convince the kids that I was a liar, leaving our son in tears as he tried to defend me. Of course then I got on the phone screamed at her ass and told her to never call me again. Know what though? Crazy as she is, she called me to ask if she could commission some work from me for Christmas presents… does the crazy ever end?

Your family has money, I get it, I really do. Your open threats about taking our kids from me with expensive attorneys? They are just that, threats because no judge in their right mind will give our kids to you. However you have been able to successfully use you family’s and fiancée’s damn money to:

1. File OUR divorce (by the way thank you, dumb bitch, for paying for my divorce)

2. Convince the family court system that you should have continued visitation with our children even though you are an alcoholic and abusive bastard.

But let me tell you, prick, all your stupid moves are going to come to bite your ass in the end, maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow, but it’s coming for you, that I can promise. For now you get a nice fat Mushroom Print.

Because of mommy bladder, several pairs of my favorite undergarments have been sadly left behind in public bathrooms. Particularly on nights that involve alcohol or lots of tea. My husband has found this extremely humorous on numerous occasions.

Because of mommy bladder, my teen son got to laugh hysterically as I careened off the road, jumped out of the van, and all but rolled down a ditch to find an appropriate spot to pee where he and other drivers couldn’t see me.

Because of mommy bladder, I have had wet panties seconds before or after walking into a bathroom. Mommy bladder can hold it, or not even let you know she’s holding it, until the instant you pull into the driveway. Or put the key in the lock. Or see a bathroom door.  And mommy bladder lets loose. It doesn’t matter how many kegels you’ve done or how tightly you cross your legs while hopping to the toilet. You’re done for.

Since I had my hysterectomy, mommy bladder has gotten worse. I’m not really sure why this is, though I have some theories. I won’t share them. They’ll show my ignorance, I’m positive.  But since then I can’t do anything that involves jumping without being prepared. I can’t do jumping jacks or jump on a trampoline. Because when I do there is not just a trickle, but a gush, wherein I pretend to fall and land sitting on my hand so I can try to sneakily feel if it’s gone all the way through my clothes.

I tried to ignore mommy bladder for awhile, thinking she would go away with time. When I started cardio kickboxing and learned the problem with jumping jacks, I tried wearing a tampon and a pair of control top shorts. That helped some – as long as I didn’t do any jumping for an extended time. I modified my jumping jacks for less impact.  But then I started trampoline aerobics. I tried to stick to my previous method. This did not work out well. I gushed and knew it was very close, if not quite, all the way through. It was so bad the tampon was falling out.

So at the very old age of 37, I bought my first package of Poise pads. SURELY, the medium would suffice and I’d only need one per class. I mean, geez. Alas, if I do not remember or have time to relieve myself several times immediately before class and/or have had alcoholic drinks or tea recently, I’ve discovered that one medium pad is not enough.  Or it is enough but it’s like carrying an extra pound or so in my panties. Not comfortable.  I did not take this well. I sat in the bathroom, only ten minutes into class, wanting to cry  and thinking that any place that allows women who have had children to jump on a trampoline should not only have a Poise pad dispenser, it should be FREE. We’ve gone through enough, don’t make us ask for change to buy our wee-wee pads!

So, this mushroom print is for mommy bladders everywhere. And for establishments that do not provide us with free Poise pads.

Yogi Berra

I would just like to take this moment to tell you that you fail at your job.

Now, before you go getting all sorts of indignant, yes, I realize you did us a big favor by renting to us. You were a friend of a friend and oh so kindly looked past our wrecked credit history to see that the mancakes works hard and would be a stand up guy and pay our rent on time every month. You even cut us a $15/month deal on the rent so that I could have a downstairs apartment for the cheaper upstairs price because my poor gimpy self has no business climbing stairs on a daily basis. You were the epitome of helpful as we toured the apartments, signed the application and paid the fees.

For that, I thank you.

Sadly, that is where the fuzzy feel goods end. Within days of telling us we were approved for our new home, you became harder and harder to contact. We eventually received our keys a week after we had been approved, even though you knew that time was a factor for us.

Days after we moved in we were having serious problems with our upstairs neighbors. Unsure of the proper protocal, I contacted the onsite manager who said that the issue would be passed along to you. Over a month later, we have yet to hear from you regarding this issue or the broken property that was a direct result of our rowdy neighbors.

Last week the problems escalated to other neighbors “playing” with fireworks at all hours of the day and night…and alarmingly close to our vehicles. Again I contacted your onsite manager. The problem continues without any resolution.

I understand that with apartment living, some noise and irritations are to be expected. As I type this, I’m sure someone is less than thrilled with my choosing to sing along with Extreme’s More Than Words. However, when these noises and irritations cause damage within my apartment, we have more than a simple annoyance. When your residents’ hobbies threaten my personal property, yeah, we have a BIG problem.

I get that we “get what we pay for” and our affordable montly rent pretty much guarantees that we will always have something that we don’t like about our surroundings. All I’m asking is that as you cash our monthly check, you pay attention to the enclosed letter and DO SOMETHING. It takes a matter of minutes to pick up your phone, call me and tell me you have it under control. Shit, your maintanence team was just here the other day working in another unit. It would have taken maybe 15 minutes of their time to address the item broken last month.

Again, I appreciate the deal cut to us because of our associations. And I’m not asking for any special treatement. We are rent-paying tenants and we have a right to have our concerns addressed. At least the local cops are doing their part to cut down on the drug traffic since you don’t seem to care about that going on right under your onsite manager’s nose.

Here’s your THWAP for a job not so well done. May it serve to remind you to try harder tomorrow.

Sincerely,
She Who Will Not Be Ignored

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He’s starting early!

Lenny Bruce