One night, when Matt and I visited Bangkok last year, the taxi driver we hired insisted on taking us to see a ping pong show.

Cab Driver:  Have you guys seen the ping pong cho?

Matt & I:  Ping pong what?

Cab Driver:  Ping pong cho, you know.  Ladies shoot the ping pong balls from (you know where).

Matt:  Oh, ping pong show.  No, no, no.  Thank you.  We just want to go to the night market.

Cab Driver:  Oh, NOOOO.  The show is very good.  Let me take you to the ping pong cho.

Matt:  Hehehe… No, really.  We just want to go to the night market.

Cab Driver:  Are you sure?  Everybody loves the ping pong cho, you know.  Young people, old people, men, women, everybody.  Everybody loves the ping pong cho.

Matt:  No, no, no.  Just take us to the night market.

We were thrilled to get out of the taxi finally when we arrived at the night market.  As we walked along the tiny little alleys full of vendors and shops, one man suddenly appeared from nowhere and pulled both of us over.  He began to yell, “Lady ping pong cho.  Lady ping pong cho.  Look!  Look!”  And then he showed me the photographs.  OMG!!!  I almost lost my entire dinner right there right then.  We managed to pull away from his firm grip and fled as fast as we could. 

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“Damn right.  Of course I am good in bed.  I can sleep for days.”

Tasmita:  I saw the election night dress on a model without a cardigan.  It looked much better.

Me:  Oh ya… Lord!  THAT DRESS!!!!!  What was Michelle thinking?

Tasmita:  I know!  She had to have a fitting before that night, right?

Me:  I am sure they gave her several choices, and she picked that bloody murder dress.

Tasmita:  Hahahaha…  Maybe she wanted to look like she murdered Palin.

Me:  YES!!!!!  Long Live ALASKA!!!!!

Tasmita: 

“SO, CHANGE has come to America.  And it is a new day and a new dawn, but forget all that - the big issue on the Internet was That Dress’.  Michelle Obama’s frock on victory night was an extraordinary fashion statement. But what was she trying to say?  That Goth is alive and well and living in the White House?  All it needed was holed fishnets and one of those teddy bears on a hangman’s noose.  I’m pretty sure I saw a dress just like it in the window of Whiplash Trash.  Maybe it’s just me, but I couldn’t help thinking about splattered blood.  A butcher’s apron. Black widows.  Was she hooking into the white man’s subliminal fears about black power?  Rivers of blood?  Or, more darkly, was she alluding at the great unmentionable in this campaign, the constant threat of assassination?  A black woman covered with splattered red.  Was she unconsciously expressing the fear for her family of being in the firing line?  Let’s not go there…”  More on sundayherald.com

Me:  HAHAHAHAHAHAHA…

Me:  “OMG!!!  Bama baby.  It’s us.  We have to go out and wave.  What am I gonna do with all that blood on my dress?  Shit.  Dang this stoooopid white woman!!!  What the hack.  I ain’t gonna miss the chance to wave at Oprah and make her jealous.  Let’s just go.  Bama baby.”

Rumor has it that the kit is flying off the shelf.  I know I need at least A DOZEN to use them at work…

We all harbor a bitch within, whether or not we’re willing to admit it. With the Bitch Kit, now you can let your own inner bitch roar rather than leave her to fester unexpressed then stand back and watch your fellow bitches bitch with admiration!

• Suppressing the inner bitch will be a thing of the past!
• 3 pads (60 sheets each), pen, pin, magnet, sticky note pad (50 sheets), and quote booklet (48 pages)

On knockknock.biz

Originally appeared on naucon.net