The day Holy Moley got Rolled

There are many silly laws out there. Ones that never should have been created, ones that should be reversed and ones that I agree with completely. To get a few suggestions, I googled 'dumb laws' and went directly to the 'Virginia' link which did not let me down. God bless Virginia. I meant it, this state needs to be blessed.

Here's a law I agree with: In the state of Virginia it is illegal to tickle women. Come on now. If you really want to see a woman squirm, make it worth her while. Show a little imagination. Bare minimum, show a little bit of skill or foresight on what a woman may want in order to squeal, giggle and toss her body around in ways that should really only happen after 2 am with enough drinks that makes it ok for her to say "I never do that" and perhaps have the chance to get away with it.

Here's a law that never should have been created: There is a state law prohibiting “corrupt practices of bribery by any person other than candidates.' Seriously, how could the men I date afford to take me out? Silly.

Here's one that should be reversed: stalking. It has recently come to my attention that I am past the traditional age in which a person is most likely to have a stalker. Supposedly, this age is 25. If you don't have a stalker by 25, you most likely will never have one. This makes me sad. I have always wanted someone to be so intrigued with every step I take, every move I make, every breath I take.... ok, that was dumb the first time. Regardless, there has to be at least one man out there that cannot bare to allow me to live on this earth if I refuse to be with him. Isn't there one man out there that doesn't want to wear my skin?!!!! Has anyone ever seen me?! I'm a F*bomb! What does a girl have to do?! Where is my Xanax?......phew.

Anyway, my point is, rules are rules. Here is one rule of the sky: Do not tell on other F*bombs. This, of course, leads me to Holy Moley.

Holy Moley was a spiritually led F*bomb with a mole on her face. We know she was spiritually led because she had decorated her temple in scripture and reminded all of us how F*bombs should behave. Additionally, if we forgot how to behave or dress (how dare she?!?) she would immediately inform a manager or supervisor of the indiscretion.

In her current domicile, this admiral task of helping her fellow F*bombs become that most perfect F*bomb on the line in the mirror image of our savior (aka the airlines), was not taken well. In fact, her discreet comments to supervisor became the talk of the domicile.

I need to sidebar here. In general, it is always my rule to be the talk of any circle. If they are not talking about you, you are not making anyone jealous of you. This, of course, would never lead to having your own personal stalker because you wouldn't become unattainable.

Back to my story.

The talk in the domicile became serious and threatening. My dear F*bomb was in danger. She needed to move. The managers, under much consideration, decided the safest place for Holy Moley to go was to Vegas. Vegas she would be safe. She would be able to perfect her craft of making every F*bomb follow the letter of all the rules. She would be accepted as an individual... strong and confident in her convictions.

Unfortunately, the Vegas F*bomb mafia beat her up in the parking lot.

She is know pregnant and hasn't returned from maternity leave.

I have to again speak in the defense of Holy Moley.

Dear Vegas F*bomb mafia, I do understand the distress Holy Moley caused and she did need to comply to the universal law of "no telling". Although, I do question your methods. F*bombs do not bring the roller derby ways to the line. No matter how much the environment indicates that you should bet on chicken fights, dog fights or whatever redneck Vegas mafia sideshow goes on, F*bombs do not become the subject of any bet that does not include a martini or 5 first and involving at least one man married or otherwise.

Again, and I mean this, God bless Virginia