it is on spectacularly bad days that you realise that bitches are usually the ones who got up in the morning realising that they have a whopping bad hair day coming up.
Or felt that delayed whoosh of air deflating from their lungs when their love life went down the crapper,
Or when they were on the verge of being fired.
Actually it doesn't even have to very major. Just midly irriating stuff that builds up, making you believe no, absolutefuckingknow that the world owes you a long overdue favour. and you don't have to be nice to ANYONE. since that is the only bloody fundamental right you've got anyway