Thursday, April 30, 2009

A Post Where I Use Lots of CAPS to Indicate RAGE

I was reading over at Steamy's blog about how she had some coffee and it made her all anxious and crazy-like. And then I was reading over at the Panic Room about how he quit smoking and stuff, and that it's making him sigh loudly and have small fights with his ridiculously gorgeous wife.

And at first I was all, OH! I'm laughing with recognition! HAHAHA! It IS annoying when your stupid pets just kind of hang out and act all SLOW and shit. Or, YES! Quitting smoking does make me want to throw things through walls! Wait...but he just sighed loudly...

Yeah, so it took me a minute, but I realized that these two people were having an OFF day. As in, they're not normally filled with a quiet rage.

Oh, right.

Yeah, me neither.

...

Okay, maybe I am a little bit, but I feel like it's mostly justified. Observe (or, um, read):

1. I have to drive in a region of this country where people think it's OKAY to drive through the EZPass lane going 3 mph when they sign CLEARLY SAYS 20MPH.

2. I have a set of cats that make it their mission to destroy me. Put the devoured phone chargers aside for a moment and let me tell you about last night. I came home from class to moderate chaos. Dishes needed to be done, there was a stray child running about, and I was starving. As I said goodbye to the babysitter, the one cat--Pink--"spooked" himself while EATING HIS FOOD. What? Yes. He jumped about a foot off the ground and managed to upend both his water dish and food bowl. ALL OVER THE FLOOR. I mean, in an instance like this, I feel like animal cruelty is completely acceptable and encouraged (see images below).

3. Where I go grocery shopping, there's this odd "volunteer" man who apparently collects the shopping carts. He also has a little set up near the entrance, complete with a chair an a frigging BOOMBOX. From this boombox, the guy BLARES the oldies station. Like, so loudly that if music had a physical power, it'd have punched me in the face TWICE and then totally shoved me in a puddle before walking away laughing at my splashing, writhing body as I hummed along to BIG GIRLS DON'T CRY (they don't cry-aye-aye!).

4. My dishwasher is SO FUCKING LOUD. And I can't stand noise. Of any kind. I've trained my kids and husband to communicate through sign language or email. SO if the dishwasher's loud, that means that the TV needs to get cranked up because you know those two bastards have to duel it out. And, I'm like, could you assholes please stop fighting in the living room?! You're setting a bad example for the CHILDREN!

5. My front door is kind of broken. We live in a BRAND NEW HOUSE. So instead of pushing the lever, I have to like, rotate it. And every time I rotate that piece of crap, I skin my effing knuckles. Trust me, they're so raw right now, I can't even BELIEVE that there aren't bones sticking out and trying to make a break for it.

6. I just ordered a pair of shorts online and they're too big. I guess that means I've lost some fucking baby weight. And it's about goddamn time. So maybe that one doesn't fill me with much rage.

7. Don't even get me STARTED on this fucking swine flu bullshit. Like, does the President REALLY need to get on TV to remind me to WASH MY HANDS?! FUUHHCK!

[Deep breath]

So, you don't know it because this is the Internet, but I totally took a break right there. I got some pictures of my cats and drew mean things on their faces in Paint. I feel a lot better. Here you go:

Meet Fluffy Cat*


And Pink:


__________

*Her name has been changed a bit since we've had kids. It used to include profanity. Really, we are good parents. I swear.

12 comments:

  1. Fucken funny post!
    Hey, remember to wash your hands today.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Pink IS cursing at me with his eyes! The evil!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Uh huh. I'm sorry, but you haven't really dealt with a true Cat (yes, capital) until you have a passive aggressive animal that one moment pretends its so lonely your heart will break, and the next actively avoids any physical contact to the point of hiding in boxes. Oh, and intentionally saves the "love me" rub the leg moment for the second you're half asleep and trying to walk down the stairs, so you can trip and die.

    The rest of the fun... eh... you just need more deep breaths. Oxygen cures rage. It's true.

    ReplyDelete
  4. so here's what you do:
    -put fluffy in the dishwasher (cause she smells)

    -wash your hands so you don't get sick

    -take pink to the grocery store where he will stare the cart guy into a coma and then you can go inside and buy something to eat (premade of course, so you don't have to do any more dishes)

    let me know how you make out :)

    ReplyDelete
  5. Oh sure, he farts like a bulldog, but does he do it musically?

    ReplyDelete
  6. Mr. Condescending: Are you trying to say that I'm NOT?

    Frankenfinger: I've purchased some HazMat suits for the family. Not the cats though.

    LiLu: I don't lie. That cat is a DICK.

    Broc: What's even MORE true is that drawing mean things on pictures is even more therapeutic than oxygen. I know. I'm a MASTER.

    Lana: I like the way you think. This is why we are friends.

    TIM: Unless she could fart to the tune of Journey or Heart, I'd be unimpressed.

    ReplyDelete
  7. That post cracked me up. For a number of reasons actually.

    Firstly, I want to throw things at walls if I need a fix.

    Not drugs, mind you. Just caffeine. Or if I'm just hungry! I don't actually throw them, but the urge is there.

    Secondly, I sent MY ENTIRE LIFE stuck behind people doing 20 in a 40 zone, 30 in a 50 zone, and so on. It DRIVES ME NUTS! What really bugs me is when they are doing 60 in the middle lane of the motorway (i.e. the limit is 70), meaning a) people end up undertaking and b) you have to go out to the fast lane and back in, just because.

    Thirdly, I've always believed that one day cats will take over the world.

    (thanks for your comments over the last few days, sorry it's taken me so long to stop by)

    ReplyDelete
  8. I think she should do something more patriotic. The Battle Hymn of the Republic would get my undying and eternal respect.

    Poot poot poot poot, poot poot poot poot, poot POOT poot poot pootpoot.

    Yeah.

    My dog used to fart, and when she did, she'd whip around and smell...the base of her tail...as if she couldn't figure out that the sound and the vibrations of...the base of her tail...were related. I'm also pretty sure that she was functionally retarded.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Mo: Hell yeah. Throwing shit is better than therapy. Eating helps, too. But also, I'm pretty sure my brother has a graphic novel that is all about cats taking over the world. It's terrifying.

    TIM: This has gone too far, I'm afraid. I don't want the fart version of our national anthem or something stuck in my head. How 'bout I just give you my cat and you can train her. Parcel post? Send my your address.

    ReplyDelete
  10. I think she should do something more patriotic. The Battle Hymn of the Republic would get my undying and eternal respect.

    Poot poot poot poot, poot poot poot poot, poot POOT poot poot pootpoot.

    Yeah.

    My dog used to fart, and when she did, she'd whip around and smell...the base of her tail...as if she couldn't figure out that the sound and the vibrations of...the base of her tail...were related. I'm also pretty sure that she was functionally retarded.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Mr. Condescending: Are you trying to say that I'm NOT?

    Frankenfinger: I've purchased some HazMat suits for the family. Not the cats though.

    LiLu: I don't lie. That cat is a DICK.

    Broc: What's even MORE true is that drawing mean things on pictures is even more therapeutic than oxygen. I know. I'm a MASTER.

    Lana: I like the way you think. This is why we are friends.

    TIM: Unless she could fart to the tune of Journey or Heart, I'd be unimpressed.

    ReplyDelete