* * *
My favorite thing ever is when people are assholes to each other, shit all over each other (figuratively speaking) and then defend themselves by protesting “I have a right to be happy!”
Yes. You have a right to be happy (or at least the pursuit of happiness), but not at the expense of everyone around you, asshole.
(No, this is not personal. No, I’m not talking about Fred or I or the spud or anyone you know. Stop reading something into it, y’all, or I’ll come box your ears for you. And by the way, this explanation of what “box(ing) someone’s ears” means made me laugh out loud, particularly the part that reads Think cymbals clashing together with a head in between.)
* * *
I’m in a bad mood. I have been since midday yesterday.
It might be because I inadvertently found my radio tuned to the Rick and Bubba Show and they were trying to explain to people that yes, they were making jokes about the death of Steve Irwin because really, we ALL thought the man was going to die in the jaws of a crocodile and to find that he died in a freak accident involving a stingray, in a way that only a handful of people have ever died before, is just too ironic for words. Apparently they made these jokes and people got all up in arms and offended because it never occurred to them that (a) Rick and Bubba are annoying, but they consider themselves to be a comedy duo, therefore they’re going to joke about offensive things and (b) Whenever ANYONE dies, there are invariably jokes. I mean for god’s sake, it was three hours after the Challenger exploded that I first heard Q: Where did Christa McAuliffe take her last vacation? A: All over Florida.
(Rick and Bubba did say that if Steve Irwin’s wife or a close family member called and said they were offended by the jokes they were telling, they’d stop immediately. I’m thinking Terri, Bindi Sue and Bob have better things to think about.)
(My hope is that if I die unexpectedly, it’s in a way that will make people laugh. Just yesterday, as we were looking at tractors, I said to Fred “It doesn’t matter, because I’m going to end up driving it into the pond and turning it over onto myself, and you’ll come home to find me bobbing in the pond, with the duck pecking at my ass.” I want to die fast and funny. Can we arrange that?)
Maybe my bad mood is because the goddamn phone would NOT STOP RINGING yesterday. You know what I’d do if I found out tomorrow I had a year to live? I’d disconnect every phone in my life. No. I’d hire someone to answer the phone for me, only I’d transfer all the calls to an off-site (but kind of close) location, and I’d hire someone to answer the calls at the off-site (but kind of close) location, and at prearranged times (noon and six), she could come over, knock on the door, and say “Fred called. He wants to know if the goddamn floor guy showed up. Also, the spud will be home a little late, and can she borrow five dollars for gas? I told the AOL telemarketer to go fuck himself, and your mother says it MUST BE NICE to be able to hire someone to do your shit work.”
I hate the goddamn phone, it horrifies me that it rings so often, and I have lately been so pissed off at how much it’s rung that I’ve been refusing to answer it.
I’m also horrified that I even own a cell phone. I think we should just disconnect every goddam phone we have, and anyone who wants to get me can email me. IF I CAN BE BOTHERED TO ANSWER MY EMAIL.
Which reminds me – someone asked if I have an email address. I do – click on the “contact” link in the sidebar (under “about) to get to it. I’m not terribly good at answering my email, though, as those people who emailed me in July and haven’t received a response yet can attest.
I do read every email as soon as I get it, though. I promise!
I think, though, that my bad mood started when the goddamn floor guy was supposed to show up at noon to look at the bathroom floor and give us a quote for replacing it. At 2:00, Fred called to see where he was, and the fucking asshole got kind of pissy with him, saying that we were next on his list.
What time did the fucking fucker show up? 4:00.
Luckily, Fred arrived home just as the floor guy showed up so HE could deal with the guy, because what I could hear from upstairs, the guy was amazingly chatty and had an annoying laugh. As far as I’m concerned, floor guys should show up WITHIN TWO HOURS OF THE PROMISED TIME, give the goddamn quote, and get the fuck out without being all CHATTY.
And the best part? They’ll be doing the floor next Monday. And I am already SICK TO DEATH of having to go upstairs to use the bathroom.
UGH.
On the up side, the floor guys are going to install the toilet, so we don’t have to pay a plumber to come out and do it.
* * *
Okay. Now I’m in a better mood. It probably helps that I finally got off my ass and went for a walk this morning. I had to cut the walk short because I had to go to the bathroom (it’s too bad there aren’t random port-a-potties on my walking route, but I suspect the people whose subdivisions I walk through might have a problem with that). So I only walked 2 miles instead of 4, but at least I got up and got moving. That’s a good thing, right there.
Now I’m going to go upstairs and sit in the corner of my bedroom and read, so I’ll be closer to the bathroom. Hey, at least I’m getting a lot of reading done.
* * *
Sugarbutt and Mister Boogers keep an eye on the squirrel, who’s running along the top of the fence. Over on the patio, Miz Poo and Tom Cullen sniff around.
The aforementioned squirrel.
“Behind you, Mom! A serial killer!”
Is it just me, or does Sugarbutt seem awfully annoyed lately? Maybe he’s just annoyed at me and that damn camera.
All of today’s uploaded pictures are
hither.
* * *
Previously
2005: How do people, like, not curse? How is it possible? There are all these gaps in speech where you just have to put a “fuck.”
2004: No entry.
2003: No entry.
2002: I think that, much like dreams, the only person interested in hearing the myriad details of drug stories are the people involved.
2001: I don’t use the “c” word lightly, y’all.
2000: Nothing much is going on at Casa Bitchypoo.]]>
Tomorrow is a full moon. Our moods should then improve. 😉 At least MY co-workers are hoping for that.
Maybe Sugarbutt has been taking lessons from Mister Boogers.
Port-a-potties can really be a lifesaver. Two friends and I used to do a long run on Saturday mornings. The route we took was a scenic one along a river and thankfully, there were several houses under construction along the way.
Bobbing in the pond with a duck pecking at your ass. That would be funny, however we would miss you terribly. Given my trouble with everyday life, I am sure to go in some similar way myself. Most likely some type of household accident.
It sounds so petty to be upset about going upstairs to use the bathroom – but I’m right there with you. Our office restrooms were being remodeled, so for a month we had to take an elevator down to the floor below, and it’s crazy how annoying that got! Some people quit drinking water so they didn’t have to go so often. Maybe we are just an office full of lazy people!
I second the ugly mood. Must be that freaking MOON. People suck.
MY phone kept ringing yesterday, too, and it was damned annoying. Seems like you’re always in the bathroom when it rings. And some of the calls were those stupid automated politicians–you know, “Hi, this is George McGovern calling to remind you of next week’s primary…”. I KNOW!!!! And I’ll vote for whom, and when, I please! Leave me alone!
We only need a “home phone” line for our alarm system to work, so we hooked up a fax machine to it for “incoming calls”. 😉 Then, we gave our personal cell phone numbers to “everyone who matters” and that resolved the telemarketers calling! Ha HA!
man, you need to go sit out in the lovely porch of yours in the new house and just chill with a book.:-)
hope the days gets better for you..
hugs,
Might I suggest a couple of Midol?
Ha!
Sugarbutt does look awfully annoyed lately.
As for the pick your own fruit… I agree with you. I wouldn’t want people in my yard/property doing that.
I volunteer to be your personal phone answerer. Can you route your calls here and then I can email or IM you throughout the day to tell you who’s calling. Ha!
Our house has three floors and two bathrooms, but both are located on the third f-ing floor! When my husband bought the place, he had the option of finishing the third bedroom and bathroom in the basement. He decided to save money by doing it himself. That was over 10 years ago and the rooms are still unfinished. I hate hate hate climbing stairs to use the bathroom, especially when I’m on the computer which is in the basement.
I also hate the phone. Thank God for caller ID and Dish Network. Whenever the phone rings a little box pops up on the TV to let us know who is calling. We rarely answer the phone.
Although I love to have people visit, I’ll email your head off, and I have no problems speaking in public, I have a neurotic thing against phones — I have trouble even calling for pizza delivery. I don’t get it. And I’m a little afraid to learn what it might mean, mental-health-wise! Luckily, most people who matter have learned that; otherwise, I’d have to hire Amy in Minneapolis as well!
Aw crap, is it really a full moon tomorrow? (squints at fine print on calendar) Fuck, it is. The rest of my work week is gonna go down in flames.
Bring on the moon change! 😉
Haha, I found a video of the spud on an old backup disc last night. It’s the “spud scream” video – do you remember that one? Oh my. I watched it on repeat about 10 times over and couldn’t stop cracking up!!! Sooo funny! 🙂
One of my favorite overused quotes is:
Your rights end where mine begin.
Another favorite:
Never attribute to malice that which can be explained by stupidity.
I hear you on the moon thing–hopefully we’ll all feel better soon. To the chocolate, away!
You know, I can feel what you are saying about the phone! I seem to be having a different problem though.. There are some teenagers that live across the street that started about 2 months ago ringing my bell at random times to use my phone. The first couple times I just assumed that they were waiting on getting their phone hooked up.. But it was still VERY annoying (even more so when she used my phone a couple times to order PIZZA) Its been happening a couple times a weeek, and sometimes I wouldnt even answer the door because I was so annoyed.
This morning at 6.17 AM the bell rang- then rang again. Of course Im thinking that something horrible must have happend because who rings someones bell at 6 am? Anyway- It was the neighbor again wanting to call her job so someone would come pick her up. She didnt even bother to act embarrased that she had woken me.
Sorry for the long comment but I wondered what you would do in that situation? Or the other commenters?
(Im sure I should tell them to F off but I feel somewhat bad.=[)
Laura: Ooooh, my blood is boiling for you! I have a feeling that if someone rang my doorbell at 6 am in a non-emergency situation to use my PHONE (grrrr!), I’d give them the wide-eyed “Aren’t YOU an asshole!” look and say something like “Please don’t RING MY GODDAMN DOORBELL at 6 am unless it’s an emergency. And wanting to use my phone? NOT AN EMERGENCY!” and slam the door.
Or just smile, say “No”, and shut the door.
I’ll come do it for you! 🙂
I tried to change all my important calls to the cell phone and limit stupid calls to the house phone… didn’t work. I now have telemarketers calling my cell which really pisses me off to no end! The house phone? It can burn in Hell for all I care! If it isn’t someone trying to sell me something, I hear: “Is Laura there?” a Billion-Gazillion times a day. I have started saying things like “Nope, she moved to Cuba, Castro was calling” or “She sure isn’t, she made me angry and I called the police and told them she was an escaped mental patient.. she should be out tomorrow.”
I get a lot of “Ummm Ok.” CLICK.
Yeah, she hates me for killing her social life, but she has her own cell phone and unlimitted minutes, all she has to do is have her friends stop calling the house.
Oh, By the way Robyn, I am moving my Blournal back to http://360.yahoo.com/carolh_66442 the hosting went out a few days ago and I haven’t been able to get them to fix it yet. Blech.
ha HA. you WERE pissy! too funny.
I missed the part where you had to have the floor replaced. But I might have cut your last entry short. I’ll go check.
I really dont know what the problem is with them. I could never even think of bugging my neighbors for anything, certainly not to order a pizza or anything like that! I think it would have been different had there been lights on in the house, or anything that shows that someones awake, but there wasnt.
At first I tried to be nice.. Now the more I think about it the more annoyed I get. I think Im going to give what you said a try! Have you ever had a problem telling people what you think? I really wish I could be more like you.
Laura: Unfortunately, I’m a great big wimp and tend to almost never speak my mind unless I’m really, really upset or pissed off. I’m pissed off on your behalf that your neighbors are just jackasses, though, so I could probably give them hell! 🙂
I’d be cautious on the ‘pick your own fruit’ thing. You don’t want to deal with someone falling and suing you.
I too have been in a shitty mood. Mine’s more due to a headcold I can’t shake.
Take Care
Robyn
This is one of those entries that made me blow Diet Coke out my nose. I don’t know which part struck me so funny, the “people are assholes”, or “I told the AOL telemarketer to go fuck themselves” OR “what time did the fucking fucker show up?” I am a 41 year old nurse and can say unequivocally that “fuck” is one of my favorite words. No, I do not use it in polite conversation, I cannot say I’ve NEVER said it to a patient (only certain patients who can appreciate it and are not offended). I can say that everyone I’ve ever worked with has accused me of contaminating their vocabulary. Examples in my normal workday “can you believe that fucking doctor wrote that fucking order? What a fucker! or “I love John Doe, but I’d love to strangle his fucking wife!” It just conveys a sentiment like no othe word. The phone gets on my nerves too. I have a nurse I work with and she works in the evenings and has this need to call me at home frequently. I am the director of the joint, but damn unless the joints on fire, leave a voicemail on my work phone. I choose to screen my calls and she never leaves a fucking message, hence it is NEVER anything serious. People are assholes! Hee!
Teresa
I hear you on the walks cut short because of bladder issues. I’m 26 weeks pregnant and trying to walk at least 2 miles every night. I pee *three* times immediately before we leave the house. Invariably, I have to pee again within 15 minutes (sometimes within five!). Last night I just kept walking, even though I thought I was going to burst. Usually, though, I make us detour from the planned longer route to the unplanned shorter route. UGH.