Do you want to piss me off?

Here is how...

• Drive with your blinker on.  You can't hear the tick tick tick of your blinker because I'm not even in your car but because I see the light flashing my brain is making the fucking tick tick tick sound!?!
• Talk to me while I'm eating chips.  I can't fucking hear you over the crispy crunchy deliciousness of these fried potatoes so you are just going to have to repeat yourself which also pisses me off...
• Saying something multiple times before you answer me and then suggest that I might be mumbling...I don't know how to mumble!  I am the loudest, most obnoxious chick on the planet!
• Question me on why I didn't do A, B or C task when I was never even asked to do those tasks in the first place and then I have to spend the next 20 minutes searching my archive e-mails to prove I was never given those tasks.  Productivity at it's finest right there!
• Make me explain why my last comment or joke or obscure statement is funny which I will have to do  when you don't laugh at the appropriate time, or look at me with a "huh?" face...you are a fucking idiot obviously and my humor is that of a genius (think Rain Man)
• Yell at me on the highway when you are the one driving like Helen Keller...if Helen Keller had dementia.

All of the above things have happened to me TODAY!  TO-fucking-DAY and it is barely past noon!  So, ask me how I am doing today.

How to piss me off...cont.

• Ask me how I am doing in a real cheery, happy to be alive, dripping with positivity voice when it is apparent that my day sucks donkey ass...and yes, it sucks an ass's ass.

Intervention, here I come...

I was absolutely prepared to write about something awesome and hilarious and completely embarrassing but after this article I decided to quit drinking and take up heroin...for health reasons and the safety of those I care about. 

It's a black tar party!

Now I am too busy falling asleep to, passing out in a heroin induced coma, watching Basketball Diaries for hooker inspiration (either from Juliette Lewis or the Sweet Valley High twins) and figuring out which family member I'm going to steal from to get my next fix.

Thank goodness I gave up booze...

Too lazy to drink...

It's getting colder outside and a new personality is starting to emerge...Slumber.  I'm so lazy!  I think it's apparent considering my awesome blogs have been very sporadic.  I figured today I'd spew a couple of different things I've been thinking of writing about but haven't because...stretch...yawn...sleepy time... 

So, a friend shared a story about another friend attempting to sext with his wife for the first time...he initiates the convo and although I'm not sure exactly what he said I can imagine it went like this...
Friend of friend ~ "when I get home I am going to oil up those titties and watch the oil droplets bounce off your chin while I give it to you"
Wow, I'm pretty good at this!  Don't tell my husband...  Anyway, he is all in and ready to get down and dirty with some super hot sexting action when his wife replies, "yes, I will rub your penis and testes"
SCREECHING HALT!
Better luck next time buddy...and after this story my first thought was your wife is a nurse but she isn't.  I think the point of this story is we should leave the sexting to the tweens.

I'm leaving work the other day and need to piddle before my hour long commute.  I am a first stall user because at some point in my life I read or over heard or dreamt that the first stall is used least and therefore usually the cleanest.  So, I arrive to my landing post and it looks like someone was murdered in there!  WARNING it's about to get gross...there was blood smeared all over the back of the toilet.  How does that even happen?  Seriously!?!  Women bleed out of their vag hole so someone please tell me how it would be physically possible to sit on a toilet and leave smears of blood at the back of the seat.  These thoughts followed me all the way home...I am still dying to know how 1) it happened and 2) this person didn't see the trail of death they left behind.  Thanks alot you dirty, bloody bitch for ruining my first stall theory...

Okay...Slumber is kicking in so that's all I got for now (yawn).  Sorry if you were eating lunch during this post...or maybe I shouldn't be sorry because you're on a diet and I just stopped you from eating that whole plate of cheese fries...in that case YOU'RE WELCOME!

Reality Bites...not a movie review

I've been in a bit of a funk...I'm not walking around writing "life sucks" on my thighs with a sharpie marker or anything but I've realized that aging is not only adding crows feet, laugh lines and gunt flab but it is also stealing my magical gift of making things happen.  I've practiced 'The Secret' way before someone wrote a book telling everyone that it was a secret, and newsflash it's no fucking secret.  You think positive things and believe things will happen and they just do...at least, they used to.  Have I lost you yet?  Yeah I'm a bowl full of sense and positive energy right now...eat it up!
Let me explain...In the past if I've wanted something badly enough, truly believed with all my might that it was going to happen and played it out in my head it usually turned out the way I wanted it to.  I've always thought of it as a tricky little power I have over the universe.  Yes, I am that delusional.  Anyway, for one of the first times in my life the outcome was not at all as I perceived it to be. 
Umm, hello universe...it's SumSum...we aren't friends anymore???
So now what?  Is someone else in charge here because I don't roll to the beat of anyone else's drum!?!  I have even said OUT LOUD, "If people would just do exactly as I say things would run a lot more smoothly around here"...I was greeted with the response, "You'd love that wouldn't you?"  Umm yeah, I would...that's probably why I said it!
Anyway, ADD is kicking in...so is my special power gone?  Has it been eaten away by the bitterness of reality and I'm not some powerful, ESPN having specimen of magic that causes things to happen with my thoughts???  Perhaps I'm not but could it be it's not the bitterness that has sucked it away, or aging that is causing me to lose it rather I'm a batty, ape shit crazy egomaniac that has now realized that the world doesn't spin on an axis called SumSum and sometimes you don't get the job, or the promotion, or walk out of your sister's wedding to see the dude of your dreams waiting outside leaning on his car (oh, Jake Ryan...) and it has nothing to do with how hard you prayed or how much you fantasized about getting the call saying, "YOU WIN!  WE CHOOSE YOU!!!"...sometimes SHIT HAPPENS!
Wait...what am I saying??? Obviously things didn't turn out the way I wanted them too because I am dealing with a bunch of retards that can't tell a diamond from a turd...yeah, that has to be it.  Now, I'm imagining having Panera for lunch...get busy on that request universe!
 

You can take back the bra burning but I'm keeping the weed...

Today a WOF shared that maybe she should go back to working on Fridays because she feels it's not fair that precious husband and father of her children is working seven days straight and they are just making ends meet.  Verbatim:  "I know I'm being selfish but I truly love dropping off and picking up my daughter from kindergarten one day a week and it's nice to be able to have some mom and son alone time while she is at school"
This thoroughly pissed me off...selfish?  It's selfish to want to stay home and spend quality mumma time with your children one freakin' weekday?  Selfish because you should be working 50+ hours a week rather than providing your children with SAHM stability and consistency?
As a working mother that's one of the many things you feel though...am I pulling my own weight financially?  Is my boss not going to give me that bonus/promotion because Skippy has chicken pox (again)?  Is my kid going to be a 15 year old Emo cutter writing poetry about how mommy was never there???  Am I going to make it through another year not being addicted to speed because I don't have energy for it all?
I never asked for this...I don't want to be an equal partner.  I want to stay home with my kids and clean the house and make sure the dinner is on the table and still warm to prevent a good backhand from the husband.  I want to have play groups and walking groups and book clubs and recipe swaps with other mommies while all of our kids play out in the backyard.  I want June Cleaver...with highballs.

I am not in a position to have that luxury so I will continue to say, "You know, I'm just not the type of person that would be truly happy at home all day and that is why I work".  Bullshit!  I work because I have to...I work because someone had a great idea that I should go to college and make as much as a man and have all the same responsibilities as a man. 
That really bit us in the ass though didn't it?  Yeah, we have all the same opportunities as a man but in addition need to raise law abiding citizens who don't eat fast food every night who say please and thank you and don't  upper cut other children on the playground and have clean clothes and good smelling hair and trimmed nails all while ironing our work suit...oh, and make sure not to spank them because then they'll be druggie alcoholics. AWESOME!
Good lookin' out gals from the 60's!!!