B-B-C

Seriously.

I don't know a better response to so many things other than... B-B-C.

For those of you non-alumni of Firehouse 4 - C shift, circa 2010-2011, you may be unfamiliar with this term.  It is simply an acronym.

Acronyms have their place in many facets of our life.  Some relate to pop culture (i.e. G-T-L) or are specific to a line of work (i.e. I-E-P in education).  Some make perfect sense (i.e. M-I-L-F) and others... not so much (i.e. N-C-L-B).  Nonetheless, the place of acronyms, our understanding of them and subsequent usage, can shed light on many unfamiliar situations we may find ourselves in.

B-B-C {Bitches Be Crazy}: idiom 

a common slang term used by those of the non-bitches to describe females rampant with drama, baggage, daddy-issues, low self-esteem, materialism, and an overall f&$*ed-up sense of reality and what they are entitled. Rarely is this followed by any sense of ownership for their own responsibility regarding current or previous life situations, but almost certainly followed by blame (of other people... for what happened, what is happening, or what has yet to happen).  Interaction with an infectee of BBC is strongly cautioned and can lead to all aforementioned "issues" becoming the sole responsibility of those choosing to disregard warnings.

Example:
A strapping, late 30's man is eager to find a lady-friend to share an evening stroll whilst discussing a recent existential epiphany regarding an encounter at the river with a beaver constructing a dam.  While on the search for such a worthy acquaintance, he happens upon a strikingly beautiful woman in her late 20's, sipping on a glass on Pinot Noir.  After a brief 2 minute conversation, he has learned that though she gives the appearance of "togetherness", she is in fact, recently divorced for the second time, uses the term "like" far too much to be considered cute, has three children with two different men, a tramp stamp big enough to land a helicopter on, works at a tanning salon because she "need a break" from the undergrad degree she has spent the past 7 years flunking her way through, and is a poster child for a study on the lack of involvement of fathers in the 90's and the subsequent ramifications of a woman's inability to become a well-functioning, contributing member of society.  She is a classic case of B-B-C.  The man's brain knows the signs well.  Unfortunately, his manhood is blinded by how well-endowed she appears to be and he risks yet another run-in with a CrazyBitch {infectee of B-B-C} out of mere survival.  It comes down to the hierarchy of needs.  Though his heart, his intellect and even his body would prefer to find a suitable replacement, he has a need as basic as breathing, eating and sleeping. 

Fast forward two months of eye-stabbing, ear-piercing, annoyingly overwhelming attachment and this strapping man is stuck.  He has fallen victim to another CrazyBitch.  Her claws are in deep and she is desperately clinging to the shoulders of this man, this new "savior" of hers.  Fix her.  Make her happy.

Unfortunately, CrazyBitches are incurable.  They cannot be made satisfied no matter the lengths a gentleman (or woman) may go.  It boils down to three things:  1) She is a BITCH. It is undeniable, now matter how sweet she may seem face to face.  Close the door, leave her alone with some of her like-minded girlfriends, and watch the F&%k out! 2) She is in a state of BEING.  She exists, therefore she IS (or rather, she BE).  3) She is nothing short of bat-shit-CRAZY.  Listen to her.  Now listen again.  Oh... CRAZY is what that is.

Boiled down... Bitch{es} Be Crazy

B-B-C can rear its head instantaneously, as illustrated above.  But the more deadly form is a slow, maniacal brew; deep under the surface it lies dormant for months or even years.  Eventually it blows.  Like Vesuvius, it wipes out entire families, communities and even nations.  It comes in the form of friendships, kinships, colleagues, drinking buddies, neighbors, classmates, etc.  It knows no age limitations either, as the spawn of such CrazyBitches tend to model what is familiar to them.  It can be genetic.  Be forewarned.  They are out there.  Millions of them.  Attempting to falsify their appearance and create lives of normalcy.  But eventually, their true colors appear. 

All women, yes I say ALL WOMEN have the potential to contract it, yet many manage to control this infection with significant success.  Sometimes it is contingent upon a certain few days throughout the month, or after the recent exit of a new human from their body, or can be brought on by a heightened level of stress.  It is important to note, though, that even the most stable, solid and put-together woman can fall victim.  Fortunately, they can also be coaxed out of a state of B-B-C with incredible patience, delayed and well-timed logic, some ridiculously unnecessary but incredibly powerful apologies and flowers.  Just make sure they aren't carnations, as they have been shown to intensify the CRAZY and BITCH of B-B-C in recent studies.

In all seriousness, though.  I don't get women.  I don't!  And I am one. 
We are passive-aggressive.
We are needy.
We are clingy.
We are self-conscious.
We are proud.
We are self-righteous.
We are co-dependent.
We are judgemental.
We are insecure.
We are hungry.
We don't want to eat too much.
We don't mean what we say.
We say shit that doesn't make any sense to anyone on Earth.
We expect too much.
We settle for too little.
We don't say what we want.
We expect others to know what we want.
We are waiting for Prince Charming.
We know there is no Prince Charming.
...
...
...
I could go on for years.
We are basically one big f-ing CONUNDRUM.
A walking oxymoron of 50's-style chivalry, 70's-style sexual freedom, and 80's take charge attitude.  Get the hell outta my way; I have places to be, things to do, but you better hold the damn door for me as I charge my way out and pay attention to know when I stumbled and have to drag myself back in, but don't you dare look at me unapprovingly because I am a woman!

I worry about my poor male-friends who are out there... trying to find a decent woman... and all I can think is "You are f*&$ed."  I wish I could help you guys, but BITCHES BE CRAZY!