Better Men Than My Husband!!

Let me start by saying that I DO NOT drown babies in the bathtub. Vile. What kind of woman do you take me for? I would never do that! I would hire someone to do that for me.

Arthur, you are too tacky for words! The epitome of bad taste, and even worse parenting! You think you’re the big man on campus, telling lies to our sons; hanging Gabriel from the ceiling for all the world to see the bottoms of his crappy shoes, grounding Peter while you sit there with your John Grisham book, trying to pretend you’re a mans man! See me in hell! I know what you’re really like! You wear Stetson, tighty whiteys that aren’t entirely white (you know what I’m talking about), you pick your nose, and you typically drink your scotch from a plastic bottle in a paper bag, not a glass.

Savage!

I could have done so much BETTER! You were a mercy marriage. But, there’s nothing like having a child accidentally on purpose to trap a man. Serves me right, in that regard. You reap what you sew, I suppose. None the less, I had other offers. I could have been the blushing bride to one of these fine beaus…

Carl Brutananadilewski

Now here’s a Company Man at his finest!! Rawr! Carl Brutananadilewski; because sometimes woman just needs to go slumming. Carl has a power indeed; his incredible savage, wild, and animalistic sex appeal!

Now THAT’S romance at it’s finest, is it not?

I apologize in advance to my three sons, but even their mother needs a spicy, hot piece every now and then. After all, if a booty call is good enough for my eldest son, Nathan, you can bet your sweet, baby drowning a$$ that its good enough for me as well.

“Angela Brutananadilewski.” Has a nice ring to it, no?

Billy Dee Williams

As much as I hate to admit it, my dirty little secret is that also I enjoy a good brew out of a paper bag from time to time. Whom else better to indulge in such vices than Mr. Smooth himself, Billy Dee Williams. Colt 45 aside, which lady of my generation DIDN’T have a Lando Calrissian fetish?

The force be with you, Billy Dee! I could have been your Dark Side on the side, but alas, I chose that a$$ hole instead. Where were my clairvoyant powers when I needed them? Oh, that’s right, they were being drown in a bottle of Colt 45, and then tossed back up in a dark alley behind an L.A nightclub.

Hugh Hefner

What does that Holly Madison know? Nothing! She’s young, dumb, and needs the money!

<-- That's right Dear, do what you have to do. She easily disposable. I’m older, wiser, and clearly I have the money, but can be bought none the less. So can my chest, as you can see. I think they look “real and spectacular!” I don’t think I’m too old to sit at their lunch table. Bridget Marquardt is 400 years old, like Adam Monroe, and she’s still drowning in all things pink and bunny! Again, there’s nothing that a little plastic, or Adam’s blood, that will keep you preserved like a large breasted corpse for years to come. As you can see, beggars can’t be choosers, but I certainly had the pick of the litter. But I need to quit feeling sorry for myself. At least I know for that in my next life, to not deny myself all of the options, and take the first, pinky ring wearing, toupee sporting, coma inducing barbarian that comes my way. Shame, shame, shame on me. Pray for my wretched soul, still,
Mrs. Angela Petrelli

**Thank you, thank you again to Ryslynn; The best Company Employee a bitter old hag could ask for. She can rest assured that’ll she’ll never be used to feed anyone, as her super power is clearly making pics.