March 1, 2012
Random Mean Shit
This is really just a bunch of random shenanigans that I need to get off my chest. I really want to quit cursing, so I’m going to get this out and then quit cursing again for Lent. I’m still at peace, except for this.
First and foremost, I am contemplating cutting my head off and kicking it down the street, because I feel another zit coming out right between my eyes. I am 43 facking years old. I have had enough of this! I wash my face. I eat healthy. I drink water. I use Retin A. But still I must look like this, with wrinkles and pimples on top of each other, competing for space? Why can’t I get pimples on my back or my ass, where they are hidden?
The next person who tells me their “system is down” is getting
I’m tired of giving out “my info”.
No, I don’t have a job. I’m not
single or married, I’m a fucking arachnid widow. I’m not giving you my insurance info over the
phone. I’m going to say every time you
ask that I don’t have it on me. Because you can just make a copy when I get
there, that’s why. I am so not
walking to find my purse, digging through my wallet, looking all through my
wallet for my card, squinting at the card, walking around some more to find
glasses, then saying all those numbers.
Member number, group number, member ID. No. I’m not
doing it. Ever. Plus I have ants in my purse. Well, not anymore. But I did.
Also, quit telling me I will find a man again. I know where plenty of men are. I don’t need to find one. Don’t tell me I will find one right after you tell me you want to lose the one you have. I don’t have to hear man farts right now. I don’t have to worry about what anyone else is doing or not doing. I have the whole bed to myself in the beginning of the night. I watch what I want. I eat what I want. And it’s not all this shit you have to cook either. Fuck cooking. Every night.
I may have to stop capitalizing some words that should be capitalized. Because for months now I’ve been blogging on a laptop that has a broken shift key. I’m getting tired of using the other key all the time. It’s too awkward. I walked into the kitchen one day not too long ago to find that the littlest of the darlings had pried every key off my laptop. Who the fack does that? At first I couldn’t figure out what the heck all those little tiny black things were, all over the counters and the floor. Most of them popped right back on. The bigger keys do not pop right back on. Some keys I just placed randomly, who knows if they are in the right place or not.
Ants. What the fack is up with ants? How do you kill them? Can a woman even kill ants? I feel like our whole yard is an ant pile. My ants, they eat poison for lunch and laugh at me. The next day the pile is 3x bigger. They are mega invincible ninja superman ants. It’s like a plague. Someone said if you have ants, it’s good, because you don’t have termites. I say BS to that. On Valentine’s night as I was cooking with all the doors open because it was nice out, the littlest darling stood in the kitchen and said “Wow, that’s alotta ants!” I looked down to see hundreds of what I think were termites crawling all over my kitchen floor. What the hell? Why don't these plagues happen to other people.
Shit. Literal shit. I’m so sick of shit. I have a 10 year old who has not flushed his shit down the toilet in 10 years. Not once. He is an anti-shit flusher. Don’t know why. He just never ever flushes. I have a 5 year old who should be wiping his own butt, but damn….do I really want those poo-y fingers everywhere? UGH. And I have a baby who shits in a diaper. Quit shitting so much. I’m sick of wiping your asses.
Litterbugs. I will chase you if my kids are not in the car. I will call the police on you. I will lie and say you were weaving all over the road, smoking pot and funneling a beer while driving. I will fuck you up. I once chased a taxi who threw a whole McDonald’s bag onto the neutral ground. I picked it up and chased him with it and when he stopped I threw it into his nasty cigar smelling foul fucking cab and told him he dropped it.
The people who put yellow signs on every corner that say “Queen Pillowtop Mattress” $250. See above.
Ugly girls who think I want to see their nasty bras. Please refrain from standing in front of me in Rite Aid if you are wearing an obese man’s wife beater inside out, that shows your whole flesh colored and very dirty bra, all over. Not just the straps showing, but the cups too. She may or may not have had pants on! I couldn't tell. Get dressed. Wash your disgusting bra or throw it away. Get a new one from Goodwill. I bring one every week.
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