Posts Tagged ‘rants’

So cold:

… my car thermometer says: HOLY SHITBALLS, BRRRR!

… my kids WANTED to wear coats.

… the Browns could have won a game today…

… the devil is wearing UGG boots, and he HATES those things.

… I could cut diamonds…(wink wink)

… my heated garage can’t warm itself past 28 degrees.

… the squirrel that hangs out in the tree by my kitchen window hasn’t moved a muscle in 3 hours.

Poor Larry.

 

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So, I got up, left him in bed.

Started coffee.

Got the teen up.

Got juice cups ready.

Got the preschoolers up.

Got everyone breakfast.

He is still sleeping.

I pack his lunch, make his breakfast.

Still sleeping.

I warm up my car, get everyone bundled up.

I drive the teen to school, get donuts for the little ones.

I come home.

He is gone.

He made his side of the bed and left mine a mess.

WTF?? Seriously? WHO DOES THAT???

I was thinking today, for no reason really, what would happen if my husband met someone else…I think the conversation would go like this:

Husband: Uh, I’ve met someone.

Me: Oh? Male or female?

Husband: (sputtering) Female, of course, why?

Me: Um, (looks him up and down) no reason…

(See, now I’ve got him all flustered, the ass)

Husband: Well, I did, and I’m leaving.

Me: Ok, does she know that you never change the toilet paper roll or put your dishes away?

Husband: Well, uh…

Me: Oh, does she know how you belch like Godzilla trying to break the sound barrier?

Husband: Well, no.

Me: Oh! Does she know how you snore like a fucking grizzly bear with sleep apnea AND asthma?

Husband: Well, I haven’t exactly slept…

Me: Oooh, here’s a good one, does she know how you like to leave skid marks in your underwear AND the toilet?

Husband: Well…

Me: Shut up, I’m on a roll. How about how you pick your toenails, and then clip them at the dinner table? Or how you like to take off your stinky socks and throw them in other people’s face? Or that you only brush your teeth a few times a week, and you like to fart a lot?

Husband: sinking into the floor

Me: …and scratch your ass in public, and eat with your mouth wide open, and snort really loud, and drool…Does she know that about you?

Husband: (deflated and defeated) No, no she doesn’t…I’m so sorry, I’ve treated you terribly. Can we just forget this whole thing?

Me: (packing) Fuck no, you’re kind of shitty, thanks for reminding me! Have fun with the new girl.

Runs for the hills… (after taking all his credit cards and cash from his wallet as he sits there sobbing).

I think too much.

I understand the importance of sleep, and the fact that my husband needs more than young children. I let him sleep in on weekends, make sure the kids don’t run in and wake him up (unless I’m pissed at him), and give him some time to rest.

I sneak around the room like a cat. I make no sound. I see in the dark. I am one with the void.

Do you think I get the same courtesy?

HELL to the NO.

For some reason my husband can’t manage to keep the kids out of the bedroom when I’m trying to sleep. “Sorry, baby, they just demanded to see you.”

Dude, you are a grown ass man, you can keep preschoolers away for Christ’s sake.

This morning he needed to get up by 5:30 am. I usually make him breakfast and pack his lunch, partly because I like to feel needed, but mostly so he doesn’t spend money getting breakfast AND lunch at a drive through.

He told me to go ahead and stay in bed. I snicker to myself because while, SURE, I can STAY in bed, SLEEPING is not something I will be doing.

So he goes into the bathroom (10 feet away) to shower and while I’m lying there willing myself to go back to sleep he:

1. Drops 587 things

2. Slams the toilet seat down 8.5 times

3. Drops 15 things in the shower

4. Opens the door as wide as possible with all the lights on when he’s done (shining like a fricken lighthouse in my face) AND LEAVES the DOOR OPEN

5. Sits on the bed and rolls his ass around like Goldilocks finding just the right spot just to put on his socks

6. Puts on said socks, sloooowwwly, like he’s putting on a burlesque show

7. Leaves, with lights still on in the bathroom, but not before bumping into the bed 2 times

8. Makes a really loud 17 course gourmet microwave dinner in the kitchen

9. Comes in to kiss me goodbye, and wonders why I’m not sleeping

10. Slams door shut to garage (20 feet away)

He’s lucky he’s cute.

 

 

 

 

I have a rule in my house: Either wash the dish or put it in the dishwasher.

It’s really simple and also allows the user to rarely have to wash a dish because I’m super-dee-duper anal about emptying it out.

I find it cathartic.

My husband does not follow this rule. This one simple rule that was put in place when I finally realized it’s not my job to wash the dishes of a grown ass man.  I just don’t get it, the dishwasher is right there, you can’t miss it!

He neither washes his dishes, NOR puts them in the dishwasher, AND HE NEVER RINSES. He just sticks the dirties on the counter.

And leaves them there.

Where in the marriage handbook did it state that I would LOVE to wash your nasty ass dishes, ESPECIALLY the next day after the food is all dried on and stuck there like a 30 day old grilled cheese sandwich??

I shouldn’t complain, it’s not really my husband’s fault.

It’s the MACHINE.

Apparently, the dishwasher is a relative of Skynet and turns on its invisibility shield when he comes by. How can he POSSIBLY put the dishes in the dishwasher when he cannot see it??

It’s the only explanation, right?

RIGHT???!!!

I was thinking the past week on how everything seems annoying.

All the damn time.

I feel like Nancy Kerrigan and want to yell: “WHY????? WHY MEEEEE????”

I’m like Archie Bunker, but  a lot younger, not a racist, and there’s the whole vagina thing…

From rude trick or treaters to old men in hats to my Bacon, Egg, and Cheese biscuit not having any bacon OR egg…I want to explode.

I decided to vent in written form, as venting in oral form makes people look at you funny and back away slowly.

So I created a new blog, and OF COURSE  I can’t even upload a damn picture.

I just get one of the stupid ass broken window image icons.

WHY MEEEEE?

Amendment: Oh, look! There’s a picture now, and it’s SIDEWAYS!!! Grrrrr