Saturday, September 4, 2010

Just A Couple Of Things

FUCK YOU BLOGGER!!! If you delete, lose, what ever the hell you are doing with my post for a third time, I will fucking drop kick your stupid ass to the curb.

Also, why do you keep deleting the goddamn comments I leave on other blogs? I KNOW the blog owners are not deleting them (but if you are..STOP IT ASSBAGS!).

Seriously, stop fucking with me blogger, it's been a long goddamn day.

Dear Dipshit in the grocery store standing in front of me in line,

If you know you are going to write a check, (because why should you step into the 21st century and have a fucking debit card) please, PLEASE have your checkbook out and pen ready BEFORE the cashier tells you the amount. Hell, why don't you live dangerously and fill it out, except for the amount, before getting out of your wussy fucking hybrid car.

Why the fuck must you wait until the cashier tells you how much you owe before you begin rummaging through that godamn hefty bag of a purse to even find your checkbook? Look bitch, if you think I enjoy your entertaining little treasure hunt? I don't whore!

Do you know that while you are pilfering through your hefty bag of a purse, STILL LOOKING FOR THE FUCKING CHECKBOOK, I am having fantasies of beating the hell out of you? Oh yes, I dream of many things while you make me wait. Like yanking that fucking huge bag away from you and shoving it right up your ass.

I also think about running into your heels with my grocery cart until they fucking bleed. I even think about waiting to clip you with my goddamn truck as I exit the parking lot and much more!

For your own safety, either get a damn debit card, or have the check made out already, m'kay?

Thanks Much, Heel Bruiser In Waiting

I fucking hate public bathrooms, but when the beer starts to overflow, a girl has to do what a girl has to do. That said, I have some assvice for you.

Do not, under any fucking circumstances, talk on your godamn cell phone while in a public bathroom. Besides being EEEEWWWWW and just fucking disgusting, it is confusing to those of us who may be drunk and already in the bathroom.

I was sitting on the white throne when a voice echoes off the damn stall walls, "Hi! What are you doing?"

What. The. Fuck? Did someone I know follow me in there? It's a good thing that before I could embarrass myself with an answer, you continued your stupid phone conversation.

I have two words for you..."Stop it"! They should take away your fucking cell phone privileges for that. There are places where you should never have phone conversations and a public bathroom is one of those godamn places.


And just in case any toy packaging pricks read my bullshit,

I'm seriously worried about your mental health. You must be fucking insane to think that securing a toy in a box wrapped tighter than a fucking chastity belt on a 17th century virgin is a good idea. Why in the hell must you make everything so difficult to open?

I had the pleasure of purchasing some (twenty-fucking-four) cute little plastic football figurines for my grandson. He loves football, so I got him a whole team. I fucking rock like that.

When I got home I started to try and open them. At first, I was excited, but soon, between the squeals of excitement, came the "fuck you motherfuckers I will KILL YOU!" of frustration.

At first I laughed, thinking it was funny that a bottle of Draino, rat poison, and goddamn bleach was easier to open than these cute little toys. I had to remove tape, pry off twisty things, cut through plastic, and break apart random cardboard bits.

Eventually, I stopped laughing and fucking started crying as I broke down trying to wrestle these brand new goddamn toys free from their bondage.

Since my time and sanity are precious to me, I gave up and set them all on motherfucking fire.

Why do you feel the need to torture parents and grown-ups? Do you sit in a room and cackle at the thought of anxious adults breaking a sweat, pulling out random chunks of hair, and turning into scary fucking sociopaths while trying to extract a new toy from its package? Does it make you giddy to know that I am cursing you fucking nut jobs and plotting your eminent fucking demise?

I have a gun, and will fucking use it!


  1. I refuse to carry a debit card.. but.. I have all but the amount written out by the time the total pops up.. what I really like are those electronic check thingies... cause I'm lazy like that..

    and.. blogger is fucked up.. it isn't updating me on peoples blogrolls either.. cause I have readers bitching about it..

  2. I've seen a similar problem with Blogger... certain people's comments get deleted from my site. I know I didn't do it and I doubt the author did. It leaves it very confusing when I'm seen answering comments that aren't fucking there.

    Anyone that's so clueless as to only start looking for their checkbook AFTER the total is given, should be sentenced to run a cash register for a busy weekend. That'll straighten them out right quick.

    Bathroom phone talkers... we have them at work. Or maybe it's just one guy, because he's always talking in Indian. I make sure I give the toilet an extra couple flushes, just to fuck with him.

    The toys... Amen. That packaging makes Christmas a real treat. The kids just want to play with their new shit, but it takes a half and hour and some M-80s just to pry the things loose.

  3. oh I hate the packaging too. with a passion. kill them all I say.

    My mom won't use a debit card either. I hate people like that. WHEN I wrote checks everthing but the amount was ready. It's just a common nice thing to do.

    Cell phone talkers. Men do that all the time. How do I know, because the women's room at work is through a wall from the men's and I hear them all the time in there on the phone. plop, plop

  4. sorry time I will have my checkbook out and ready because I just know you are talking about me!! I just did this yesterday! LMAO

  5. Yeah something is going on with blogger, havn't had problems yet but I'm sure something wonderful like my whole fucking blog will get erased or something.

    WHo the hell still uses a cheue book for buying grociers, what are they trapped in the 70's

  6. @Wolf:
    I guess I am one stuck in the 70s! But you see, when you have shopping to do on a Saturday, and you don't get paid until Tuesday, it makes it real easy to know that I can write a check and it won't come out of my account until payday! LOL

  7. @ Amy that's a good point, I've never needed to use cheques for shoping or anything other then paying my rent or the occisional speeding ticket. Everything else is either electronic or cash.

  8. Oh I so needed to laugh today, thank you!

  9. Yeah... sometimes I have to get my kids to open my drugs for me and I've finally taught them how to make a good martini (bless their little hearts) so they can open they're own damn toys.

  10. I love my plastic haha.

    Talking on your cellphone in a public restroom is icky.. And confusing haha.

    As for the kids toys, I have no clue why the hell they make them so ridiculous to open.. But I too usually sit there cussing the packages out.

  11. queen, glad to know it's blogger and not me

    bluzdude, m-80's HAHAHA!

    Dazee...plop plop eeewww..lmao

    Dame Amy, better get that shit together before somone rams your heels with their cart.

    Wolf, the 70's had good drugs, lol

    Diva, you are very welcome

    Lady's Lounge..damn I should have taught my crotch parasites to make my drinks.

    McKenzie, i love mine too.