Easily Offended

I'm offended by the dumbest things. For example, I get mad whenever they ask me at the grocery store if I want assistance loading my car. I'm 32-years-old! Do I fucking look like I need assistance. My arm and legs ain't broke! Are you saying I'm too fat to walk my fat ass to the car and load some bags? Bite me!

Hahahaha! Yes, I'm well aware that they ask everyone.

Sad

I'm a grown ass woman, and I still duck down and hide when someone rings my door bell.

Stream Of Consciousness

I was driving down the freeway the other day and even I was impressed by my train of thought. I thought I'd share:


I really need to get the garage door fixed. I don't want to spend the money!  Stupid birds made a nest in there. Why are the wildlife out to get me? I wonder if I can shoot them...

I probably shouldn't. Archer is always shooting people in enclosed spaces and getting folks shot up.

Lana had a baby. What kind of name is Abigene? Everyone bet on whether the baby had a black daddy or a white one. Pam called her a quadroon

I can't believe people still say quadroon. My sister told me a story about someone at work saying she looked like a mulatto. (Mulatto butts!) And he later claimed he wasn't racist.

While I generally don't care for racists, I much prefer openly racist people instead of people that say racist shit but claim they aren't.


Here's where I caught myself. I wondered how the hell I started thinking about racists. And it all came back to me. I have problems.

Dear Business Class,

Thanks for making me feel like I'm better than everyone else. I already knew this, but I appreciate the reminder.

Murder/Suicide

So one morning, after maybe my fourth night shift, I decide it's a good ideas to boil some eggs before going to bed. I put them to boil on high and figure they'll cook while I catch up on one of my tv shows. Well, about halfway through the show, I realize I'm just too tired and need to go to bed. Do I remember I'm boiling eggs? Of course not. Well, about three hours later, something wakes me up. I still can't tell you what it was. I get out of bed and head towards the kitchen. At the first sign of smoke, I remember the frickin' eggs! And I can tell you for damn sure it wasn't the smoke alarm that woke up up. Despite smoke filling the kitchen and dining room, the smoke alarm is just making a clicking sound that wasn't doing nothing for nobody. I stumble into my kitchen like a zombie. My pot is completely charred. And does anyone know what happens to eggs when they boil that long and for temperature's that high? I'll tell you. They explode. They fucking explode. I enter that kitchen and it looks like fucking Humpty Dumpty's entire family has been murdered. Mind you, I was cooking four eggs. One and a half are left in the pot. The rest are splattered on just about every goddamn surface in my kitchen. Not cool. I clean up what I can, open all the windows (despite it being 18 degrees outside) and just take my ass back to bed. I force myself to ignore the scent of smoke clinging to me, as I had to go back to work that night.

And that's the story of how I almost killed myself via smoke inhalation and murdered a family of eggs.

I Made It!!

Yes! Went three months without shaving my legs! And yes, it was as unattractive as you can imagine it was.

Dog Walking Chicken

I realized today how much pleasure I get out of this game.  I refuse to cross the street or turn if I see another dog coming. Refuse! If you can't handle my pony, get out of my way.  I almost always win. It's the little things...