Let's Define CRAZY Shall We?

Crazy comes in many levels. There's crazy, as in 'baby you so crazee'. There's insane, as in 'check out that insane ride'. There's bat-shit crazy which is the seemingly opposite of sanity and common sense. And then there is BAT-SHIT FUCKING CRAZY. BSFC brings a whole new level to the crazy ladder. The Girlfriend Code is a small piece of a much larger incident that I truly needed these past two days to process.

Saturday night, mellow house party to celebrate the In-Between Christmas & New Years, we are making plans to ring in New Year's Eve, and the hostess and I decide to go play on the stripper pole installed in one of the bedrooms. Cue some Flo' Rida, take a cell phone pick, and the hostess offers 'hey, do you want to change into shorts so you get better grip?" Well, of course I do. I try on her black patent knee high boots with red satin laces up the side. The hostess offers "I have the cutest red top that matches those laces." Cue some Motley Crue, and there's no stopping me.

After a little "Girls, Girls, Girls" I go to walk down the hall and see my soon to be accuser, a.k.a. BFSCgirl, with her coat on, tears rolling down her face, and this vacant hollow look in her eyes. I ask "Hey, you leaving? What happened?" And all fucking hell broke loose.

"I have lost all faith in humanity!" says BSFCgirl. I still have no idea what the hell losing faith in humanity has to do with this.

**** was crazy about me until you came along. He wanted to see me not you. I have the text messages to prove it. The night of his party he said he wanted me." OK psycho, that was in April and it's December now.
You showed me all the text messages you sent ****** except for the one that said you wanted him. Actually I did show you that text because it was all in fun. we were all joking. just like it's a joke you saved text messages from April. And I saw those messages, he was crazy about your huge tits not you.
You slept with him. How can you say it was all in fun? You slept with him. You broke the girlfriend code. The fact you stalked him through his website for the past four years and never made a move in real life does not give you first dibs.
You're wearing a bra. Do you always dress like a whore? I didn't know the dress code was slutty attire tonight. I own swimsuits that show more skin. It's not like the whole party knows I got my hoohaa waxed two weeks ago.
He's down here watching you dance. You're a slutty whore. How could you come down here and dance for him. Oh honey if I really wanted to dance just for him, I wouldn't need to wait for tonight - and oh, he's not the only guy at the party or the only guy in the room.

The hostess came down the hall (thank god!) and asked what the fuck was going on. I made my way back into the pole room, while BFSCgirl proceeded to scream, yell, and rant at the hostess. **** and I stood there, looking at each other, almost dumbfounded, going "What the hell?"

BSFCgirl was asked to leave, and after she left the hostess came in to the pole room, and all three of us stood there dumbfounded, going "What the hell?" And just as we were gonna continue the party, BSFCgirl comes back into the house and unleashes again on all three of us together. Not a lot of what she said at this point was making sense... something about the three of us were conspiring against her, the hostess never lets her finish talking, **** didn't want to talk about her feelings when she did (newsflash, FWB agreements are JUST SEX - they are not about friendship, or feelings, and were created for the sole purpose of serving physical needs when no one else is available), and I was still a slutty whore. I'm sinking into the wall of the room, **** is cowered into the corner on the floor hiding behind his beer, and the hostess is asking her to leave again.
A final middle finger and "FUCK YOU!" to all of us as she was escorted out.

I have now seen BAT SHIT FUCKING CRAZY first hand, and it's not pretty. It's actually pretty pathetic. The twist that makes this BSFC and not just bat-shit crazy is the fact she thinks we need to apologize to her.
Let's see, back me into a wall, scream at me, call me names, and I'm supposed to apologize? Not gonna happen.