Slung Off

Only two men in my life have ever truly understood me, and appreciated me for all my complexities. My daddy, and my deceased husband, Maurice Guillory. Even my long time friend, native Texan, and former boyfriend, Cal, who claims to love me inspite of myself, has never been able to pinpoint, much less accept, just what it is that sets me apart from the average female.
See, I'm the type of woman who defies the norm, and I live my life on my own terms. I'm not alone I count my dearest sister friend, Rosey, as my equal, and at times she's even worse than I am. Even though, until recently, we've spent many years apart, I've always been able to count on Rosey to have my back, and she knows who has hers. We are each unique, and possess our own special brand of qualities the average woman could never manage, or control. Right now, I reckon you are thinking either this bitch is drunk, or she's got super powers, but no, I just want to clear up any confusion, or misunderstanding about women like me and Rosey.
Just like any other girl, we want to be pretty, and we enjoy all things feminine. We wear make-up, fix our hair, get our nails done, and can look smokin friggin hot for our man, to catch a man, or simply because we like to look our best at all times. We can work as hard as any man, nor do we have to depend on them for every little thing. (I can cut my own steak thank you!!) and if we are scared of anything, we either conquer, or kill it.  We can take some hard licks, physically, mentally, and emotionally, and still pull ourselves up by the boot straps and carry on in spite of our pain.  We will fight a buzz saw to right a wrong, or protect our loved ones, and if and when we do get fed up, pissed off, over stressed, or decide to blow off some steam, we take it to a whole other dimension. Terms like "out of sorts", "off-kilter", or even "pissy" don't even come close to describing what happens. As Rosey so aptly puts it, "We get plum damn slung off."  That's right. SLUNG OFF, as in discomfrigginbobulated, (another Roseyism) out the chute, hide the bodies, destroy all evidence, Oh Lordy, make another wrap and hang tight, this aint gonna be pretty...slung off. Yet, we will squall like a baby over a sad movie, or when we feel someone else's pain. We can't stand to see anything, or anyone hurt, and we will stand our ground when it comes to our beliefs. If we like you, we'll do all we can to help you, if we don't, well go back and study my definition of "slung off".
 As for me personally, if I say I"m going to do something, it usually gets done, and my word is my bond.  It's always been hard for me to maintain romantic relationships, mainly because I have more balls than the average guy, and I guess that's just too intimidating. Truthfully, most of my closest friends, other than Rosey, and a few others are men. I'd rather work with men too, because they just want to get the work done without all the yanh-yanh bull shit office drama created by too many women in one group.
You see, we don't behave the way we do, or react so differently from other women because we are crazy, bitches, on the rag, or suffering from some hormonal imbalance. Women like me and my friend are rare breeds, an odd mix of old fashioned values, women's lib, estrogen, and cowgirl...well more like cowboy.  You know, maybe that's the best description for me and Rosey. We're not just like cowboys....we're more like cowboys with vaginas.