Complaints: Monday
Cuntzilla is enraging me lately because she is ruining my righteous indignation against the evil credit card companies and mortgage industry and all the rest of the corporate giants keeping us in indentured servitude, like the Joads in The Grapes of Wrath were permanently indebted to The Company Store.

Because for every person falling under the wheels of the oppressive economy right now for reasons they can't control, like a health crisis or job layoff, there is a Cuntzilla who richly deserves, yet doesn't learn from, her predicament.

My brother and Cuntzilla declared bankruptcy earlier this year, allowing them to keep their house. They were buried under credit card debt, and even now pay more to their creditors per month under their bankruptcy settlement than Dilf and I ever owed in minimum payments when our credit cards were at their highest. And we felt nervous about it, and took steps to fix the situation.

But Cuntzilla? She is acting as if the bankruptcy awarded her a get out of jail free card. And my dumbass brother follows right along.

They're back to going out to dinner, getting beauty treatments (well, Cuntzilla is. Not that it helps much), going on trips -- then getting socked with overdraft fees when they need new tires for their car, because they need to pay cash for everything now. Never mind if it's actually in the account or not.

But worse than that is Cuntzilla's willingness to lie in order to get the luxuries she feels she so richly deserved. Like, trying to con my mother into buying my niece expensive shoes she doesn't need, claiming "her feet are too wide to fit into normal shoes." Because her current dress shoes, Cuntzilla feels, don't do the dresses my mom bought her justice.

Gee, thanks for the dresses, lady. Now make with the shoes. But not those cheap-o shoes your trashy daughter (me) makes do with; I want the good stuff. My friends look at that sort of thing. As do I. Did you notice my Kate Spade purse? What, no??? Everyone else does. Peasant.

Anyway, it's not that I or everyone else in the world doesn't like stuff. Even if you think you don't like stuff, you like stuff. Even St. Francis of Assisi liked animals and Nativity scenes. But what ticks me off is when you expect to have things handed to you, rather than work for them. Give something to the world, get something back from the world -- it's that simple.

And now, a word from Gimme Gimme Octopus:

ALSO: My friend Darth's daughter had a health scare this weekend. Maybe he could use some kind words and warm thoughts.
Name: Übermilf
Location: Chicago Area

If being easily irritated, impatient and rebellious is sexy, then call me MILF -- Übermilf.

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