Ah, cats. They can never understand the joy of actually being paid real money to live your best mean girl life.

That's it.

A decade ago, educated middle-class black women did what everone else, ever, in a job, with colleagues and bosses and subordinates, had to do: you keep your individual hatreds tamped down until you got home and could safely bitch about them, and then you went back to work the next morning and did the same.

That was called life. You like some, you hate some, you feel a bit of disdain for some, you feel a lot of envy for some--but it's all in the normal scheme of things.

And then Trump came and everyone had permission to take all those socially-imposed curbs off and could hate right out loud and it was glorious.

The true opioid crisis of our times. They can't stop. It feels too good. Best rush ever. 'm amazed they don't have transcendental orgasms right through the screen.

That's all it is. Being your best 14-yr. old self on live TV.

(edited for typo)