Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Damien - Spawn of Satan

Fucking hate my job!  I played hooky yesterday to avoid the dragon-lady that is by new boss.  She is rude, mean, conniving, two-faced and completely insecure.  But obviously she hides her insecurities by being a bitch to everyone around her.

She is pregnant and all I can think that she is going to give birth to a demon child.  A woman like her should not breed.

Every day I search for a new job and pray that when I finally do leave, I have the guts to tell her what a heinous cow I thin she is.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Parade of exes

What is it about February that makes me think about my exes?  I have been with my husband for a few years, and I would never, ever, ever give him up.  But every year around this time, I start thinking about former boyfriends and lovers.  I think about the good times/sex we had, the way they pissed me off, how I broke up with them or how they forced me to break up with them (you know what I am talking about), what I would say/do if I ran into them again, etc.  That is what I really think about: running into my exes.  Doesn't everybody?

Sometimes I fantasize about running into a certain couple of them.  Sometimes I am pregnant; sometimes I already have the most adorable baby and they wonder what our children would have looked like; sometimes my wedding ring is bigger than it really is; I have a better car; I have a better job; I have a better body; I have a better life.  But never, do I have a better husband.

While I wish my husband had a bit more money and more hair, I wouldn't want to run into any of my exes with anybody else.

Not a very evil post.  I'll sharpen the horns.

Friday, February 19, 2010

I try, I really try!

Honestly, I really try hard not to be a fatist.  But when is comes the moderately obese, that I do not personally know, it can be hard.  Especially when that person kind of makes me throw up in my mouth during my dinner.  The real reason for my vomitus moment was not the woman just being fat.  It was that she was so fat that she did not realize that the back of her shirt was hiked up around several rolls of back fat, all the way up to her bra line.  Her entire, volumunous back was exposed the whole restaurant.  It was a lot of back fat.

Now if I was at the beach or a swimming pool or somewhere else where it would be appropriate for me to see her back fat in the flesh, then I wouldn't have gotten sick.  But I was visually assulted and couldn't help it.

The nice girl in me wanted to walk up to her and quietly & discreetly point the wardrobe malfunction out.

The evil girl in only pointed it out to my husband, who in turn threw up a bit in his mouth as well.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Hey Ginger-wannabe-Rock-God who lives on my street!

Growing you hair past your elbows and wearing a black Megadeath T-shirt to conceal your beer belly, that is usually hidden behind your bass guitar (or so you think), will not make you look like or play like Dave Mustaine! 

GET OVER YOURSELF?!

And why would you want to look like him anyway?  Ewww. 

Please get a haircut, a real job and a clue.  This way you will stop visually assaulting the people that live around you.

Friday, February 12, 2010

As of late...

I have been so pissed off with having to deal with so many stupid people at work lately, that all I really want to say to them is:

"You're an idiot and will never realize how stupid you are.  Everybody with half a brain knows that you are colossal jack-ass and I want to rip your fucking head off and then pee on it."

But I don't. 

I smile and take another Xanax and count the minutes to Happy Hour.

And then I blog about it.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

I hate Costco shoppers

Any time my husband suggests we go to Costco, I feel the need to take a large shit.  I hate going to that place.  I don't give a shit how cheap the bulk discounts are, it is not enough for me to put up with the twat-heads that walk around that place, on their cell phones, with 15 children, paying no regard to where they are going and love to leave carts in the middle of the fucking aisle.

And don't get me started on the parking lot.  I swear every Costco parking lot in America was designed by an 80-year-old, blind, North Korean woman.  They are beyond ridiculous!!  And if a person is an idiot with a cart, they are an imbecile with their cars.  The cops should stake those parking lots out in order to give every other driver a ticket for driving while talking on their cell phone.

Stupid fucking people!

Of course I had to go there today and it put me and my husband in a bad mood.  Think I am going to drink my anger away before the Superbowl starts.  Who's with me?

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Somedays....

I wish Jennifer Aniston would just go away.  Not die.  I am not that kind of evil.  Just for her to leave the public eye for a while.

Found here.

Why do we care anymore?  She hasn't been on a hit TV show in about 10 years.  She hasn't had a hit movie in about as long (well... The Break-Up... but....). 

Brad Pitt dumped her ass for Angi-crazy like 5 years ago.

Found here.

And her latest ex-boyfriend is one of the biggest douches in Hollywood (John Mayer). 



Found here.

Why do we care?  Why is she still in Us Weekly, Perez, Good Morning A-Fucking-merica?

She bugs.

Leave me alone for a while Jennifer Aniston.  Maybe when you come back, I will like you again.  Maybe.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Crucify me now

Anybody else get really pissed off when the panhandler/homeless person who is asking you to give up your hard earned money (whether it be loose change, or a dollar bill), says "God bless you," when you refuse to give them money?

"Give me a fucking break!" I want to yell at them. God didn't bless me.  I worked hard for this money and unless you provide me with some kind of service, I am NOT giving you free money to help feed your alcohol/crack/heroine/crystal meth addiction.  It may be a disease, but I am under no obligation to support it.

"Bless your failing heart for trying to guilt trip me. But the more you try to "bless" me, the more indifferent I become."

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Your kid is NOT amazing

I am getting really sick and tired of a good friend of mine calling her child "amazing" every five seconds.  This has been going on for three years! 

E.G. - "How is Child X?"

Friend - "Child X is Amazing.  Child X is talking in almost complete sentances."

E.G.'s inner monologue - Well the kid should by 2 and a half!!

E.G. - "How is Child X doing at pre-school?"

Friend -  "Child X is doing Amazingly well.  Child X plays well with the other kids."

E.G.'s inner monologue -  C'mon lady!  The kid is 3.  The kid is supposed to be talking by now and playing well with other kids.  I was talking by then and playing with other kids as well.  And I am sure you and your husband were too!

Child X has not cured cancer, does not compose music like Mozart nor have they brought Peace to Middle East or figured out a way to make fake breasts feel real.  When a 3 year old does that, I will call them "Amazing," until then, you kid is normal and adorable, NOT A-FUCKING-MAZING!

I so want to go off on my friend and say just that, but I don't cause I'm a "nice girl."  But I will warn you, the breaking point is getting closer.

Monday, February 1, 2010

Fist Pump

Now that the cast of Jersey Shore is acting like Beef Supreme Douchebags with their salary demands and extending their 15 minutes of white trash fame, I kind of want to punch Snooki in the face just like that guy at the bar did.

I would just be smarter and not do it with a bunch of cameras around.

Plus I'm a girl (or as they say at the shore, "I'm a female"), guys would just think it was hot.