In order to become one of the bitches, we have to have been friends for 5 years or longer, they have to feel comfortable confiding in me, we have to be able to call each other sobbing, or filled with rage. We have to have worked through some kind of conflict. Like, sometimes I hurt The Bexter's (who by the way, hates being called a bitch, and resents that I refer to her as one of The Bitches) feelings. And it took us a few years to figure out how to fix that.
Now, she calls me, after she's thought about it, and tells me. I apologize and we move on.
It took Arlette and I two years after I moved to Portland to figure out how to communicate with each other. We now lived 700 miles away from each other, so I couldn't just go to her house when I was bored or upset. She hates/fears the phone, and at the time, I thought IMing was stupid.
We compromised. And now we IM all the time, and if I need a person to talk to, I text/IM her, asking her to call. She usually does.
Overcoming that kind of conflict gets you into the J.L.A.
The Bitches are all bad-ass. And kind of psychotic. And you can bet that there is someone in the world who is afraid of them.
It is glorious and beautiful to know that they have my back.
I wrote this for them.
PS: The 2nd picture gives you the naughty text. Etsy likes me to keep the first pic clean.
Also: Remember! Snarky Cards are Post-Cards. They've got pretty pictures hand-painted (by me, Alisa) on both sides, and the words are typewritten with my Smith-Carona: Bob.