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Things a Bitch Should Know--Back to School edition

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Offline sinclairfan

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Things a Bitch Should Know--Back to School edition
« on: July 11, 2019, 06:17:30 PM »
Dear TABSK--My name is Sara.  I'm 19, from the Midwest, and just graduated high school a few weeks ago.  And in just a few weeks from now, I'm headed to Boston for college.  I'm the youngest sibling in my family, and my parents have been itching for this moment for years--they already have their "downsizing home" picked out, about 200 miles from here; and they have a buyer lined up for our old home.  So even on the (hopefully rare) occassions that I come home from college, it won't be to this town.  I expect to leave here forever, and not ever set eyes on my childhood hometown again.  My question is this.  There's a boy in my high-school class that I've had a raging crush on for years--and it's mutual.  We've exchanged more double-entendre's than I realized even existed.....verrry sexual, even though (although I realize all girls say this) I'm not normally that kind of girl.  And even though he and I are NOT relationship material--he's a vaper, I'm a bookworm.  But if I leave town and don't sleep with him, I'll regret it for the rest of my life.  Now, one final permanent fact:  his girlfriend is a jealous bitch, who monitors EVERYTHING about him (and, sadly, he lets her).  If I sleep with him, she WILL find out, and she'll blame me, not him.  Which I don't mind--if she comes after me, I can handle myself.  I've had a couple catfights, and I'm in good shape.  Her bluster isn't going to stop this goodbye roll-in-the-hay from happening.  So how do I time said encounter?  Do I make it the last thing I do headed out of Dodge, leaving her to impotently fuss and fume?  Do I just "let it happen" when it happens, and not worry about her?  Or do I "get it done" asap, leaving her fair opportunity to find out and come find me?

Dear Sara--We at TABSK like your style.  Bravo for such self-awareness at 19.  You have a bright future.  Now, before answering your question, a comment.  Your selfish parents have backed you into quite a corner.  The youngest child always gets the short end of the stick.  But we digress.  The envelope, please .....  <<<drum roll>>>> ..... survey says:  just as not sleeping with your crush will linger in your mind forever, so will sneaking around his gf without giving her the opportunity to respond.  Chances are, her bluster is just that:  idle chatter.  But if it's not, so be it.  You and her have your "girltalk", and you go off to Boston without loose ends.  No regrets!, we at TABSK always say.  Good luck; with him, and then with her.

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Offline sinclairfan

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Re: Things a Bitch Should Know--Back to School edition
« Reply #1 on: July 17, 2019, 10:21:47 PM »
Dear TABSK--My name is Audra, and I'm 55 years old, but this question about me.  It's about Sara, whose letter from a few days ago caught my eye.  She's a bookworm--so was I.  She's been in 2 catfights at 19, and is apparently stepping into a third.  Wait, what?  I'm 55, and still have no physical catfights (a couple verbal one's, still nothing physical).  I used to justify this shameful lack of experience by my youthful AND middle-aged (to use Sara's word) bookworm-iness.  But this attribute of mine is obviously not a valid excuse--it hasn't inhibited her.  I ask you, TABSK, is this a generational issue, or an Audra issue?  Does Sara's generation find fights easier than mine did?  Or is it time for me to step up and get busy?  I never had children, and have no generational point of reference.  Audra

Dear Audra--A little bit of both.  As we've documented many times in our column, Sara (and her peers, including her rivals and frenemies and enemies) grew up with an iPhone in her hand, with access to Facebook, Snapchat, and YouTube.  What was in your day lunch table in gossip and hearsay becomes, in Sara's tinderbox cyberworld, full-blown trolling and bullying and shaming.  The potential for catfight matchups is greater.  And, yet:   Audra, Audra....NO catfights??  At 55??  There IS something going on with you.  Be honest--how hard have you tried?  Are you perhaps afraid of losing?  Did you notice how Sara msde no reference to winning or losing in her past fights, NOR in her impending one?  It's not whether you win or lose, it's whether you fight.  Get out there!!  TABSK

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Offline sinclairfan

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Re: Things a Bitch Should Know--Back to School edition
« Reply #2 on: August 01, 2019, 01:16:03 AM »
Dear TABSK--Sara here, again.  I wrote to you about a month ago.  I'm a month wiser, now.  I thought I knew it all.  I thought I could fuck my high school crush, and walk away with nothing worse than a catball catfight with his girlfriend.  Shit, was I wrong.  I'm in love.  We fucked for a month, and I'm head over heels for a month.  His girlfriend was away with her divorced dad, and is unaware, I think.  But I'm in love.  I want them to break up.  I'm still going to college in Boston in three weeks ..... I think.  But I want them to break up.  What do I do????

Dear Sara:  No man is worth giving up your education for blah blah blah blah blah.  WHO ARE WE KIDDING????   Get her cell.  Text her.  Tell her what she missed out on all summer.  Good luck.

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Offline sinclairfan

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Re: Things a Bitch Should Know--Back to School edition
« Reply #3 on: August 04, 2019, 06:56:06 PM »
Dear TABSK--Audra here, again, the 55 year old fangirl of your college-bound writer Sara.  I was touched by Sara's description of her consummation of her flirtation with her high school crush, despite his having a girlfriend.  More than touched--I was moved to act.  I acted.  My neighbor is a 45 year old professional gentleman, with a sea-hag for wife.  And not the type who is entitled to her sea-haggishness because she's pretty or good in bed--his sea hag is neither, trust me.  Anyways, I wouldn't describe my conversations with this gentleman as flirtatious--we just enjoy chatting about neighborhood events with another sentient adult.  I've always kept our conversations short out of respect for the sea-hag, but after reading Sara's experiences, I decided, screw it, I'm going to let my conversations with the gentleman get personal, if that's where they go organically.  Now, said gentleman and I haven't gotten intimate yet--not even close.  But I've drawn the ire of the sea-hag.  And guess what?  Fuck it.  Or fuck her, at least.  If she can't keep her man on a short leash, then I'm going to pet him.  If she has a problem with it, she knows where to find me.  Audra.

Dear Audra--We at TABSK respect the ancient, sacred institution of marriage.  On the other hand ..... you go, girl!!!!   (You AND Sara.)   TABSK

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Offline JT Edson

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Re: Things a Bitch Should Know--Back to School edition
« Reply #4 on: August 17, 2019, 08:33:25 AM »
Well written story. I look forward to the next installment.

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Offline sinclairfan

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Re: Things a Bitch Should Know--Back to School edition
« Reply #5 on: August 17, 2019, 03:43:58 PM »
Dear TABSK--Hey, there.  Me, again.  Sara from the Midwest.  Except, my parents sold my childhood home out from under me and have moved into a ONE-BEDROOM townhouse, so I don't really have a place to crash anywhere in the Midwest now.  And I've headed off to school in Boston for my freshman year of college.  So, I'm feeling a bit out of sorts.  I think the impending reality of my newfound rootlessness is what caused my nothing-like-bookworm-Sara behavior over the summer.  Sorry I took so long to "check in"--I'm still trying to process everything that's happened.  I had a month-long affair with my high school crush, and then proceeded to rub it in the face of his girlfriend.  I think part of me was trying to steal him from her so that I'd have a "home" back in the Midwest during school breaks.  But when I started texting his girlfriend that her guy and I were doing it, I just came across as stalker-ish, not as the dashing, sophisticated Boston-bound career girl that he was trading up to.  She and I fought, on my parents' backyard patio 2 days before closing.  But it wasn't the hairpulling, nail-scratching, clothes-ripping roll-around catfight I had been craving everytime my crush and I got frisky.  Instead, it was a semi-awkward, long, sweaty stand-up fistfight, each of us alternating between left jabs and ill-advised right haymakers to the nose, mouth, and jaw.  I describe them as ill-advised, because two times out of every three, the punch thrower would swing, miss, and fall to the patio surface, incurring scratches to her kneecap, elbows, and palms and knuckles of our hands.  We were even-Steven incompetent in this un-feminine form of combat, and it ended in an ignominious draw, as in a final desperate attempt to get to a decision, we clinched and pulled our exhausted bodies together, our scraped and bleeding flesh coming together and mixing and swirling our oozing wounds, our blood mingling like a withcraft ritual from a cheesy 1990s late night cable movie (like, I dunno, The Craft -- did those girls do something like that in that movie).  Anyways, the needs of our parched throats to re-hydrate outweighted the needs of our pride to to have our fight end in a tie, and we separated, and parted, unable to settle possession of the boyfriend.  And then the house where we fought was sold, and I headed to Boston.  And haven't texted much with the boyfriend--so I suppose she has him, although I have no way of corroborating that.  It all ended so.... murky.  Anyways, I guess what I'm asking is ....  How did I do?  Did all that drama MEAN anything? 

Dear Sara:  A lot to digest there.  And glad to hear that you appear to be safe in Boston.  Big picture, you went into an affair with a crush knowing it was likely to include sexual excitement with him, and drama with the girlfriend.  You got both.  We salute your awareness of the risks and opportunities of entering into a situation, and of taking control once committed to doing it.  You display wisdom beyond your years, and have a bright future ahead of you.  That's an assessment most any advice column would give you, and we echo it.  But, now for the TABSK twists.  Two of them.  First, your parents were horribly selfish to move on to their semi-retirement before your future was launched.  Parents reading this column--never do that to any child of yours, but especially your youngest daughter.  Second, tho, Sara, and this is for you.  That patio catfight you had with the girlfried:  WWWOOOWWW!!!!  You were very matter of fact in describing it, but Mercy!, it sounds absolutely epic!!  Two rival girls going toe to toe of flat pavement on a hot summer afternoon!  Dripping sweat.  Drawing blood.  Sara, you've achieved the catfight equivalent of summitting Everest, or at least K-2.  Don't sell yourself short!  Look in the mirror, and be proud of what you see.

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Offline sinclairfan

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Re: Things a Bitch Should Know--Back to School edition
« Reply #6 on: August 23, 2019, 07:31:12 PM »
Dear TABSK--Audra, here, again.  I was moved ..... and inspired .... and aroused ..... by the news of Sara's patio catfight with her rival.  Holy guacamole, that was hot.  I had been holding off on the consummation stage of my flirtation with my Sea Hag-shackled gentleman neighbor because of an inexperience-induced lack of confidence in my sexual performance.  It's been awhile, and frankly even in my prime I never quite got the knack of the whole production (clothes on or off?  lights on or off?  bed or floor or shower?  quickie or marathon?  it's all so exhausting?).  My I'm a woman,and I have needs.  And Sara's standup battle seemed like just the thing to satisfy it.  So one Friday at lunch time, the Sea Hag was out allowing her dog to relieve himself on my lawn.  I quickly changed into jean shorts and a tank top (usually not my style at all), threw my long hair into a ponytail, and yelled out to the Sea Hag, inviting her to put away her dog and come join me on my patio for iced tea.  I think the "put away the dog" clause dropped sufficient clues to her that the iced tea wasn't the purpose of the impromptu meeting.  She curtly accepted, and returned promptly, somewhat less casually clothed as me but showing just as much skin.  I swear, all I could think about was digging my claws and teeth (yes, my teeth) into her exposed flesh.  She must have read my body language, as she greeted me with a "Bitch!" salutation.  I responded with "Sea Hag!", and, I kid you not TABSK, it was on, and it was on hard.  We were both out for blood, both figuratively and literally.  We started on each others' biceps, scratching and biting mercilessly, but soon moved on to shoulders, then necks, then faces, gouging and raking mindlessly.  I learned the truth of the maxim that pleasure and pain aren't opposites, but are cousins.  I felt the pain of the scratching and biting on my upper body.  But, TABSK, my lower body felt unprecedented sexual arousal, the release.  Repeatedly.  Multiple orgasms and explosions of tension.  I don't know for sure, and don't entirely care, but I think she felt the same.  As exertion gave way to exhaustion, my arousal was sustained by the mutual smudging of blood, as described so vividly by Sara.  Our battle lasted 15 minutes tops before we agreed to a tacit draw due to the unsustainable pace and intensity of our war.  TABSK, my question is this:  if we do it again, will it be as satisfying?  Audra

Dear Audra--Our congratulations on matching, then surpassing, your "teacher" Sara.  And our gratitude for your sharing the event.  The answer to your question is:  nothing is certain in catfighting.  But the Sea Hag and you sure sound like you have a good thing going.  Ali-Frazier 2 and 3 were even better than Ali-Frazier 1, right?  Right?   TABSK

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Offline sinclairfan

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Re: Things a Bitch Should Know--Back to School edition
« Reply #7 on: September 01, 2019, 08:40:53 PM »
Dear TABSK--Sara, here again.  Sara the Scholar.  Not.  I've completed my first two weeks of my freshman year of college in Boston, supposedly the collegiate education capital of the world.  But, I have a secret to fill you in on.  College in Boston, and in at least the entire East Coast of America, has very liitle to do with education.  Especially in the freshman dorms.  Instead, it's all about two things.  Binge drinking.  A hookup sex.  And by hookup sex, I mean BAD hookup sex.  I know the difference, because I spent the summer having good sex.  Really, really, really good sex.  And after 2 weeks of having, and watching, and listening to bad sex, I was in the mood for good sex.  I was missing my boyfriend.  The one I was the Summer Sidechick for, back in the Midwest.  So, with Labor Day weekend coming up, I used the cash allotted for my Thanksgiving airfare, and booked a flight back home.  I landed on Friday afternoon, with nothing but my backpack with weekend clothes and no plans beyond Ubering to my boyfriend's and winging it from there.  Even if that meant tangling with his girlfriend in a rematch of our patio brawl.  I expected they were already banging each other again.  But I had no idea it would be in progress literally as my Uber pulled up to his house.  His stepmom let me in to their tiny house, and we could literally hear them going at it in the basement.  So ....  white ... trash.  I played a hunch that his stepmom was tired of her stepson and his girlfriend so rudely crimping her style.  So I "confided" to the stepmom that I was away at college, on the path to a bright future, and that if her stepson played his cards right, I might bring him along for the ride .... and more importantly for her, finally get him out of her basement.  If only .... if only there was a way to get the pesky, slutty hometown girlfriend out of the way.
"Are you two ladies already .... acquainted?", drawled the stepmom.  "We've ...ahem .... butted heads once already," I coyly responded.  "And I take it you've come today to .... renew your acqaintance?". 
"With her.  Then with him."
"Well, you're on your own with the second.  But I'd be pleased to assist you with the first."
"Much obliged, ma'am."
"In fact, it would give me a thrill to witness you and her ... in action."
"To show my gratitude to you ..... I'll allow it."
"There's room enough in the back yard for two ladies to do .... what you and her need to do.  Why don't you use the restroom, then head on back?  I'll send her out in a couple minutes.  Good luck."
"Thank ya, ma'am."
The restroom idea was a good one.  I needed to go after my flight and my Uber ride.  Plus, I was nervous as heck now.  I knew I might fight my rival at some point this weekend, but wasn't fully prepared for it to be so soon.  And with our boyfriend and his stepmom watching.  Plus, our first fight had been a donnybrook, so I knew even if I won, I'd be feeling the effects of the fight for days.
Plus, once I got outside, I realized it was damn hot in the summer sun.  The small backyard had no shade from the mid-afternoon sun.  I had flown in from rainy Boston, and was in jeans and a light but long-sleeved sweater, with no top underneath except my bra.  It was too late to change, tho, or do much of anything, because within a minute, true her word, my boyfriend's stepmom sent my blonde rival, with a literal dragged-out-of-bed wardrobe, out to the backyard for our confrontation.  Both of us knew that with our boyfriend and the woman of the house watching eagerly from the picture window, there was no point trying to de-escalate our tete-a-tete.  This was the Real Thing--winner gets the boy, loser goes home with her tail between her legs.  Without any verbal greeting beyond two high-pitched semi-shaky "You.... slut .... bitch ...." shrieks, we closed at each other, claws fully extended, digging into each others' scalps with every ounce of strength we could muster.  Neither of us had learned much from the Draw ending to our first battle on my childhood patio.  We were holding nothing in reserve, and instead were heedlessly going all-out for a first-round knockout, scratching and punching each others' faces without a single iota of energy going towards defense.  I've never been so angry with anyone in my life, nor had someone going after me like my Summer Rival was.  The bone-on-bone crunching of knuckes on face bones, jaws, and teeth was like the crackling of the Saturn V rocket that I had seen on an Apollo 11 50th anniversary special a month before.  My long-sleeved sweater cause me to break into a dripping sweat, but shielded my flesh from my enemy's scratches.  Her thrown-on tank top, on the other hand, was quickly shredding under the pulling-and-tugging of my windmilling hands and fingers.  My rival's sweaty and aroused 38c breasts popped out into the open, and I quickly sensed my path to victory.  Both of my hands grabbed my prize and gouged and twisted them like a Florida citrus farmer juicing a pair of grapefruits or a bartender squeezing lemons into a cocktail.  My enemy shrieked in desperation, collapsing onto her knees and raking at my eyes in an attempt to force me to release my grip on her chest.  I felt her sharp nails slicing a trail from my cheekbones to my forehead, but was grateful to have my boyfriend's stepmom available to nurse my face if I could dispatch of my enemy.  I dug deeper and twisted harder at her breasts, grateful that she didn't have access to mine to exact revenge.  I pushed her onto her back, and collapsed on top of her to pin her.  I mounted her, now adding pressure from my knees onto her wounded chest.  Still raging with jealousy, I cemented my total victory by raining punches onto my defeated enemy's face.  I stopped only when the stepmom pulled my still-flailing torso off of my prostrate foe.  That evening, as my stepmom treated my numerous scratches in her kitchen, my boyfriend's stepmom said, "I don't think we'll be seein' much of her around these parts anymore.  That started out as one helluva catfight, and ended as one helluva ass-whuppin'.  Remind me never to get on your bad side, Sara.  College girl or no."  My boyfriend and I then had some of the really, really, really god sex I had been missing so bad.  And I flew back to school.
My question, for you, TABSK, is this.  Is it true my rival won't be back??  I'm 800 miles away at school, and have 10 weeks away until Thanksgiving.  I don't trust the two of them home alone, stepmom at the door or no.  I'm jealous a.f. of them having the opportunity to keep their relationship going.  Am I being paranoid?  Sara

Dear Sara--always good to hear from you, and congratulations on the catfight victory.  Three thoughts:
(A) We join you in mourning the decadent, binge-drinking, bad-hookup fallen state of what passes today for American Higher Education.  We salute you for not passively participating in its worst behaviors and pathologies.  Good for you.
(B) Excellent fight.  Bravo.  You still have progress to make in the pacing department, but your repertoire of endgames now includes to go-to classic breast maul.  This will take you far in life.
(C) You're not being paranoid.  If the stepmom thinks a little setback will stop the rival, she has evidently never been with a man who is Good In Bed (which would go a long way to explaining how it is that she's a middle-aged stepmom living in a .... ahem .... white trash home).  Your boyfriend and his ex are no doubt having make-up sex behind your back (the best kind of sex there is), and she is no doubt plotting her revenge for Thanksgiving Break.  You and her will meet again.  But eat your vegetables, keep up your cardio, sharpen your nails, and we're sure you'll do fine.  TABSK

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Offline sinclairfan

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Re: Things a Bitch Should Know--Back to School edition
« Reply #8 on: November 30, 2019, 10:28:30 PM »
Dear TABSK--It's been so long that I wrote that I don't even know if you'll remember me.  Sara.  "Sara The Scholar", as I sarcastically called myself as I went East to Boston and discovered that U.S. college life is just infantile boozing and hooking up, at least until Grad School (and except for the sciences, even at Grad School).  My retired parents have moved on, going on a Tropical Vacation and leaving me high-and-dry for Thanksgiving.  So I went "home" to my high school (ex-)boyfriend's mom's house, and gave her a present she was craving:  the opportunity to watch me, the ex- and the college girl, catfight his new squeeze, the hometown-girl.  While the whole rest of the town were Black Friday shopping at dawn the day after Turkey Day, the bitch and I went at it in the boyfriend's mom's basement workout room, no rules.  We just wordlessly wailed on each other for 4 rounds, fists and feet and knees and elbows, trying to ruin each others' holiday weekend, and just taking out our frustrations on each other with our disappointing post-High School destinies.  The mom was ready with towels and antiseptic, which were required due to both of us breaking skin early and often in our single-spectator duel.  Just a raw fight, which ended when my opponent didn't answer the bell for Round 5.  I'm hoping to get presentable for school on Monday, although it now appears the weather won't cooperate--major blizzard hitting the Northeast on Sunday.  I'm tempted to just "throw in the towel" (fight metaphor, see what I did there) on my college career in Boston and keep my "new Mom" companionship here in the Midwest.  She seems like she needs me.  Whaddya think, TABSK?  Do you give education/career advice?  Should I pull the plug on college?  Sara

Dear Sara--Career advice is above our pay grade.  It's all we can do to keep up on giving catfight advice, and we're not even positive how great we are at THAT.  It DOES sound like you and the boyfriend's mom have something symbiotic going on:  you get 3 squares and a warm bed, she gets some outstanding catfight viewing.  Win/win, if you ask us.  TABSK