The Perils of Being a Nice Girl: Douchebaggery Edition

The Perils of Being a Nice Girl: Hello Mr. Douche Dick Pic I am not a bitch, although I can be and I wish I was capable of pulling the bitch card out more than I do. Normally… I kind of a sweetheart. *shudders*. Ask anyone that really knows me and you’ll hear how nice I am, helpful, a great listener, a great friend. The ride or die girl who doesn’t require much, just a bit of time. Simply put, I care and I show it.

That’s awesome and all great things to hear about one’s self but every once in a while I wish I could be more of a bitch. Less giving. More demanding.

For example, I wish I could tell my roommate he needs to move out, stop waking me up at 6am for relationship advice when I literally crawled into bed at 4am… Its not like he’s gonna listen to the advice anyway.

I want to be able to tell some of my friends to shut the hell up and stop being stupid. That I could care less about their current relationship status, or that I honestly have no more advice to give them when their 5 second romance implodes. And maybe, just maybe I’m going through something too or I’m stressed so to stop being so needy.

Or tell my boss that contrary to what it appears, I am not wonder woman. I cannot do everything perfectly every time and keep everyone involved 100% happy and keep my grades up. I want to tell her that I hate, no loathe budget meetings, liability forms and any and all paperwork that involves crunching numbers. I’m cool with running the website though… coding and writing is right up my alley.

I want to tell my clients to go fuck themselves. Especially the older male ones that assume that just because I’m a woman with a young face and who they perceive as innocent does not mean that I am a push over or that they can try to take advantage of. A contract is a contract is a mother fluffing contract. Sure, I’ve done it before, put my little foot down and showed them I wasn’t someone you mess around with. But I can’t very well tell them to fuck off if I plan to stay employed.

I want to finally have the courage to tell my father that I’m pretty sure he’s the reason, due to his example growing up that I have a problem opening up to people or letting anyone in when he points out that so and so is getting married and doing this or that with their lives.

And sometimes, when I’m writing or working on something and my sister falls asleep on the sofa behind my desk, I wanna throw a pillow at her face… I am almost positive that she is already aware of this but even still…. I wanna just do it!

But then… something happens. I get all up in my own head and I convince myself that being a bitch is wrong. I tell myself things like, your friends don’t know you are going through stuff because you don’t like to talk about it… or yourself. You can’t hold it against them if you’re acting like a closed off twat. How are they supposed to know that your horny behind does not want to hear about their sexcapades. Or that you never liked fulanito/fulana in the first place and you knew they were full of shit so you aren’t surprised that shit blew up in their face. I remind myself that all I can do is try, try to help them through it because I genuinely want to see them happy… even if you sacrifice your own sanity and happiness. (I maybe shouldn’t do that anymore, huh?)

Or I tell myself that this dude was your best friend for 7yrs and you guys have been like family. He used to go to every doctor’s appointment. He spent the better part of those 7yrs referring to you as his little sister and you introducing him as your brother. You don’t wanna be that person Tiffany, not over some petty shit.

I tell myself that I can work one more day, kill them with kindness, do your job and keep going.

I convince myself that it will hurt my father too much to be honest with him and that he doesn’t deserve that cruelty after he raised my sister and I after our mother died…

Convincing myself to shut my mouth at almost any and every opportunity is a pretty easy task. (Perverted lady, hush up with your dirty innuendos. Those times are not a part of this post yet!) I don’t really like confrontation if I can avoid it, it makes me shaky when I have to get my bitch on. I mean I can do it. I go full on stereotypical Latina… it’s not pretty.

BUUTTTTT MY GAWDDD, some of you people just have this magical talent at pissing me off. The shit you write is just atrocious. I like dirty talk… in the bedroom, during a scene, when I exchange naughty text messages with someone… not on a pretty innocent photo I post or in response to a poem/post/excerpt I post.

Go swim in a pool of Gatorade you thirsty and dehydrated asshat.

I don’t like to ignore messages. Like it says on my profile, it takes time for me to respond because I’m busy. Liking photos or posts takes a different sort of energy then writing a response. I am usually pretty honest upfront when I’m not feeling the convo and I will 90% of the time exhibit some patience I didn’t know I possessed but for fucks sake some of you cross that line on the regular and the sass in me reaches 10000 and I let go.


I just don’t understand how your opeing line is “I loved your profile and I was wondering if you would like to -insert something I am clear I’m not into in my profile-”. I mean come on, I state I don’t do NSA hookups, and yet here you go with your nastiness. You’re in a relationship and it’s not poly and you think I’m gonna make an exception for you because your avatar is a “magnificent” dick pic… I’m not and hun it’s not. I am very clearly that my sister and I will not do whatever depraved thing you can come up with because she and I will never do any play together… but you think you can somehow finesse our panties to melt off our bodies into a sopping puddle on the floor with your oh so eloquent wording…

Your message clearly states the opposite of your liking and reading my profile. It reads more like a poster child of, “I liked your ass or your boobs or hell I just like that you are a chick and I wanna stick it in”.

So how the fluff are you surprised that I respond to you in a crass manner? Did my response to your message piss you off? Feeling offended? GOOD! Your message pissed me off, maybe it offended me.

Guess we’re even now right?

Just because I like sex does not mean you are entitled to it. Just because I love giving head does not mean I am going anywhere near your dick. So what I have a pussy, its mine and I’m entitled to say no to your proposition in whatever way I see fit. Just because you have labeled yourself a dom, does not mean you are mine or that you bring the sub out in me. I am not obligated to cater to your will.

Still feeling butt hurt? There’s this pretty little x on the top of your window, click it. Or better yet, block me. Save me the trouble of doing it myself because I can guarantee it is not gonna happen.

These are some of my favorites. I didn’t respond to all of them because even when you’re being a massive douche, I’m trying my hardest not to be an unnecessary bitch so I won’t respond.




I’ll admit…. the nice girl in me felt bad a couple of times, especially to the one guy that apologized but I need to stop catering to everyone’s feelings every once in a while.

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