Bloated with a ‘B’

Oh, Christ, another day of bullshit lies ahead. I’m so busy. Everyone wants a piece of Madge. It’s not easy being everthing to everyone. Do you think it’s easy getting out of bed, walking my goddamn cats, then over to the stove to make my breakfast only to find that I’ve placed my cunttainer of earth-friendly sugar on the stove and turned on the wrong burner? So I lifted up the goddamn cunttainer and the sugar went all over the stove and started to smoke.

It must be a sign from the Goddess. She’s saying, “Madge, you’re fat cunt!”

Now I have to give a speech to the producers at the record label turday on the virtues of outsourcing young lesbian vocal talent. But do you think I get to relax after that? No. I have to rehearse my speech for the Lesbian Carpet Cleaner’s Union turdmorrow.

No sleep for the Weinstein! World, stop needing me so much. Well, not really.

Love,
Madge
A Woman of Luna

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