Friday, May 8, 2009

Is It Still Called My Happy Place If There Are Shivs and Shin Kicking Gnomes Involved?

This week has found me saying "a-hole" more than the average amount. Whether it was in the rain-soaked traffic or muttering it under my breath, just out of ear shot of my almost two-year old as he threw his 800th fit of the day. Yes, I called my adorable son an asshole. Because he was. Being an asshole that is.

What I'm saying is I've had it with all you assholes out there. And, I don't know if that means you, but if you think that it might then just stop being an asshole and we'll all be okay.

Monday started the week in fine form with layoffs in my office. We all sat around waiting to see if we could kiss our asses good-bye, so by the time they got around to telling you what percentage your pay was going to be cut, you were dancing for fucking joy that you still had a paycheck. It was only later that you stopped and thought about it and went, "Hey! I just got screwed!"

After wading through the mounds of COBRA paperwork and making sure I was all up on the new COBRA stuff (which would be more fun if I could be all hip hop and singing, "I'm all up in your cobra stuff"), I sat around with shaking hands for the rest of the day to drive home to Young Wheezy and his full-on fuck you attitude.

And then? The rest of the week went like this:

* The kid stayed sick and wheezy and grumpy and just schmucky and junior douchey in general. This morning he laid on the floor, face down and screamed for an undetermined amount of time.

Undetermined because by that point, I ceased to care about whatever it was that he completely invented on the spot to get pissy about.

* Jason went into Monk's room with a box of trash bags and went to town. Now our garage is filled with bags and bags of all things pink, glittery, fluffy and girly until she goes through it all and decides what it is that she can't possibly even think about going on living without. And, because "the puberty" is imminent she's been a joy to be around.

* Proofreading multiple replacement window brochures, multiple times. Who knew you could write 20 pages on windows? Well I know, I also know that degrees MUST be spelled out and for the love of all things zombie, why the fuck can you not stop hyphenating that fucking word? I circled it over 100 times already.

* Ants, fucking ants. Why? Because the people in my office drop things like pecans on the floor and then just leave them there. Simply so they can come up to my desk and whine about all the fucking ants in the kitchen.

* And apparently eating all those fucking pecans makes them stop up the toilets which then again, becomes my problem because evidently no one can wield a plunger except for me.

* Speaking of toilets, it's common courtesy to put the toilet seat down in shared bathrooms. I mean unless you're a hobo. And if you're a hobo then go piss in the alley where all the hobos take our trash out of the dumpsters and just leave it there so we can hand pick it all up. I don't want to touch the toilet seat every time I take a whiz. Seriously, it's just a little like touching every ass in this office and I'm not down. Especially because it seems you are hobos, dirty, hobos. Besides, there is trash in the alley I have to go pick up now. Scooping up old spaghetti and used tissues is just my idea of a righteous time.

If all of that wasn't enough, then my red, swelling, itchy eye and my also swelling fat ass should be. Because as it turns out, I also eat when I'm stressed out. Which meant that, yet again, this morning as I went to put on my jeans all they did was groan and say "fuck you, lard-o". Being curvy isn't always grand. Actually, it's mostly not grand. Also? I didn't know that denim could actually groan and creak, but look at that, it just did.

I am now sitting here, fashioning plunger handles and pecans into shivs. Pointy-ass shivs. I've gone on to create a hobo assembly line, with all those dirty, drunken hobos just a whittling away. Because if you're going to do it, you do that shit right.


Dirty Pirate Hooker said...

That's a seriously crap-tastic (can I hyphenate that, or will you shank me?) Week!

I need to lose 10 lbs in my thighs in 2 weeks if it makes you feel ANY better. Stupid wedding dress.

rachie! said...

I'm sorry?
I can't wait to call my kid an asshole. Actually, I already do - especially when he gets a good bladder punch in.

rachie! said...

Hooker why do you have to lose 10 lbs in 2 weeks? I thought you were getting hitched in August.

Gwen said...

This was the best rant I've ever read. Ants suck. I have them in my kitchen and I kill them with great pleasure.

Sometimes my kid acts like an asshole too. I tell her so. That usually just ends with her calling me a bitch and telling me she doesn't want to look at my "stupid face".

I hope you feel better.

ghost of keywork said...

Wow. I can't wait to see what next week brings.

Miss Yvonne said...

First of all, you ARE my favorite blogger. And! Not only are you my favorite blogger, I pretty much want to be your best friend but I know I'm not cool enough and I figured you would probably roll your eyes at my award since that's what the cool kids do.

So yeah...

I called my kid an asshole to his face last year when he smashed our bedroom window by hitting a golf ball into it. Not my finest moment.

Do you seriously have to unclog toilets at your job? That sucks ass. Shiv all those sons of bitches.

prayingtodarwin said...

This kind of shitiness cannot extend over 2 weeks, can it? I'm hoping not. I am sending positive thoughts in your general direction.

Miss Merry Sunshine said...

I give my kid the finger when he or she turns their back. All the time. Fuck those kids is my mantra, lol. At least it's the damn weekend!

Rassles said...

Breathe deeply. Allow Loggins to soothe you. Play "I'm Alright" on repeat, and get out a good air-punching when they go dipdipdipdipdipdipdip.

jeffra said...

you kill me need to write a book or a comedy or are soo funny and the way you write it and tie nonesense together so that it makes sense, brilliant! not that you write nonsense. you know..stick a shiv in my eye..I guess I am an asshole!

Shawna said...

I think Joaquin Phoenix totally has a song called "I'm all up in your COBRA stuff" and if he doesn't then he should.

Assholes stink.

J said...

I hate ants, too. And while I don't think that it is me being the asshole, I will still work on that.

Steam Me Up, Kid said...

Pecan shiv? It's funny at first, but then it's scary because if someone comes at you with a sharpened pecan, you know they're not gonna back down until you're properly gauged. A pecan shiv means persistence.

Try an ice cube shiv. They'll never track down the weapon.

Mongoliangirl said...

Ugh. You reminded me of a time when things were HORRIBLE at a business I worked for in the early 90's and I was HORRIBLE right along with it. Finally someone told me to shut the fuck up and get back to work. At first, I thought I might slash her tires. Then? I realized I was a complete fucking ass hole and she was right. I shut up and got back to work.
Oh, and this post is fucking hilarious.

Gypsy said...

I'm pretty sure you win, hands down, the worst week award. May this one be better.