We've all been there. Your boyfriend is hanging out late with his much hotter, much cooler female friends and you're in the bathtub wailing like a banshee sucking on a skinny cocktail that tastes like ass.
You know it's silly to doubt him. How on earth could he be attracted to these smoke shows when he has your slovenly body to picture as they call him pet names and caress his leg over beers watching the big game?
Well, I found a way to stop feeling these pangs of overwhelming envy and rage. I decided to kill them.
It wasn't easy. They thought it was odd I wanted to meet up with them in an alley BEFORE getting our nails done to bury the hatchet over that one outburst I had when they both showed up wearing skin tight dresses to MY birthday party. I let the rage burn inside my gut as I wielded that hefty axe upon their perfectly dyed blonde heads.
Some may ask, do you feel guilt for taking the lives of these two perky, beautiful, much more interesting nymphettes? All I have to say is I sleep better at night listening to the sounds of my boyfriend's grieving sobs than knowing he's out having the time of his life with much hotter women.
It is my cross to bear.