A Material Girl In A Yeasty World

Mondays/Tuesdays are usually the best days for action on BART. I think because there's a 20% off sale on crack in Fruitvale and the goddamn Tenderloin due to the overflow of stock from the weekend hood rats. Today was special for me. Not because it was the beginning of another fucked up work week, but because I had the pleasure of sitting next to the biggest, materialistic bitch on the mother fucking planet. You know that girl, right? This bitch had two designer bags, a crackberry, iPhone, iPad, fucking Prada shoes...you would think this bitch was Jennifer fucking Aniston or something. There was one catch...even though she owned almost everything a woman dreams of, she looked like her face went through a fucking meat grinder - TWICE. Look, I'm not the cutest guy in the bunch, but I can at least say I'm cute. This bitch, not so much...she looked worse than a "buttaface" but better than...well, the shit I took this morning, I guess. And as for my clothes, I'm a jeans and t-shirt guy...unless you get my ass in a suit, then I'm straight GQ Smooth. But I digress...

Knowing I was dealing with another girl who thought she was straight Beverly Hills 9021-CUNTBAG, I turned up my iPod, put on my Stunners and planned to enjoy the ride into the city. Not so fast...the chicks phone rings (really not sure which one), and it's her friend (who I'm sure is probably just as fucking twatty). I put my iPod on pause (you saw this coming) and decided to eavesdrop on her conversation...because that's what assholes like me, do. You're welcome.

Apparently, this chick went on a date with a so-called baseball player (I'm thinking AAA) and they hit it off over the weekend. Who would have thought...Fuckface Magee had a nice date with a guy that probably bangs chicks due to the fact he tell bitches he plays semi-pro baseball. Match made in heaven, right? Nothing more interesting to report outside of this since she basically described her date as, "nice and great." I just translated that as: broad might be a prude or this dude took one look at her and decided to end the date early so he could rush home to jerk off to his new porn that UPS just fucking delivered this morning. Hey, shit happens.

My attention though, really turned to what she talked about next...her OBGYN appt. Or what I like to call..."Pussy Check-up." Real talk...once this bitch opened her mouth and started talking, all I heard was pain, yeast and vagina in the same sentence. Guy on date + pain + yeast + vagina = A BAD RECIPE FOR HOMEMADE FUCKING BREAD. Not some shit moms be making either. WTF?! I'm smirking my ass off at this point and looking to see if she's trying to scratch her crotch (chicks with yeast down there do that right? haha!). At this point, she keeps talking about how it "just won't go away" and if she should go get a second opinion. Ummm...hey bitch, I'm no doctor but if you have to go get a "second opinion" on an apparent "yeast infection", I'm pretty sure it's not a yeast infection. More like the herp or some shit that isn't curable by eating a few servings of yogurt. Her conversation was so intriguing to me that I just stared at her (like a stalker, but confused as fuck)...with the most "WTF are you doing right now talking about this shit on goddamn BART" look. She put her phone down, looked back at me and said, "May I help you?" The only thing I could say was, "You for reals right now? The world doesn't need to know about the possible potato farm you're harvesting between your legs miss. That shit ain't right and honestly, it's fucking gross. Wash your shit. Damn. For reals? Jesus." She then stared at me...cross-eyed and angry. It made the situation worse since I didn't know what eye to look into so I decided to look at her shoulder, hoping one of her eyes would follow me so if I did happen to look at her, she knew I was looking AT her (or at least in the good eye). That shit just pissed her off even more. WINNING.

Cyclops probably stared at me for a good 23 seconds longer as I just waited for one eye to make contact with my eyes. It didn't happen. So I smirked. She gave me the "pfffffttt..." then attempted to roll her eyes, which btw - I didn't know people who are all cross-eyed and shit could roll their eyes. I was wrong. Learn something knew every fucking day, I guess.

Anyway, I think I threw up twice in my mouth after it was all said and done but asked myself, "Why the fuck would anybody be talking about shit like that on BART and to their friend?" If my buddy told me he had some wart on his cock and it itched really bad, I would punch that mother fucker in his face then tell him, "I'm going to blog about it. Fucking jerk." I'm just sayin'...shit ain't right.

BART - the place where daily entertainment never gets fucking old. You should ride it some time. Real talk.