I went home for Thanksgiving break-up and I got it—the Turkey Dump. I guess he just couldn't handle my betchiness. He was constantly complaining about how I was in a sorority which according to him automatically makes me a raging slut. I am now faced with the dilemma of returning home to a small suburb in Masshole with no pro to fuck. I have a boy who is willing to let me be a homewrecker and I am considering because what can possibly be betchier than that?
Help a betch out,
Everything is betchier than being a home wrecker. Betches don't wreck homes, we rule them. Though it may seem like betches are down for cheating because we don't promote being nice, cheating is not betchy and when you say 'willing to let me be a home wrecker' you sound like a pathetic slutty loser. Betches don't need to hook up with other girls' boyfriends because they can get their own. But since you seem to think that cheating is betchy meaning you probably have the morality of a disease infested hooker, try working on yourself for a little.
PS. Being in a sorority doesn't make you a raging slut, desperately seeking dick makes you a raging slut.
Your site is completely devoted to what I live by, basically casually winning at everything in my path, while still not trying too hard, because why would I. However, something completely unfortunate…and I daresay unbetchy happened to me recently…I got diagnosed with cancer. Now, don't get me wrong, the secret sick betch has a very impressive candy collection and daddy and my boyfriend have just another great reason to buy me whatever I want…but my besties don't know. Honestly, besides my fam, only my gay BFF knows anythings up.
I'm all about keeping things light and like, whatever…but betches, please tell me…how does a girl do sickness the betchiest way possible?
Dear Resilient Betch,
Kudos to you for showing the world that as long as you have a hot body, even the betch hating cancer cells can't bring a true betch down. We admire your resilience in using something shitty to make the best out of it (manipulating your dad and bros into getting you shit). We also are into the fact that you still seem chill and real while dealing with something so serious.
That being said, it's time to let everyone know what's up. You should treat cancer as if it were a nice girl that you pretend to cater to in order to get your shit done. Remember that bestie who wouldn't let you borrow her leather jacket? Next time she pulls that shit, you should send her a friendly text saying something like “Oh btw whore, I have cancer.” We'll see if she'll still be concerned about the resiliency of Florence's finest leather goods after that one.
You should take this opportunity to appreciate life, your besties, and your family. Cancer may be a bitch but she's no match for any true betch. I mean, Samantha Jones had cancer. Show that cunt how to fight like a betch.