1. This cake mix which insists on asking for "125 grams" of butter. WTF? I'm an American, goddammit. I don't know what the hell a "gram" is.
2. The fact that Katrina and ineptitude might just end up killing me after all, 5 years after the fact (long story).
3. The cloud of toilet paper debris that keeps floating up to the surface after flushing. This new "green" tp just dissolves upon contact with water, and never quite flushes completely down. I just have to flush three times instead of one now. Totally green there, right?
4. Anything named Kardashian. (see # 3)
5. Why, thank you ma'am for letting me know all the gory details of your father in law's giant (alleged) "diet coke tumor."
6. The fact that I can only buy diet Pepsi at work and have to import my six pack of tumor makers from home. I hate to imagine what a diet Pepsi tumor would be like.
7. That I had to work yet another 12 hour day yesterday, only to be subjected to talk of diet coke tumors at the 12.5th hour of those 12 hours.
8. The fact that the rear door of my car won't unlock from the inside. The car is all of five few months old, and already there's a problem?
What if I were to hurtle off the side of a bridge into the river and my only way out was to swim to the back right hand seat to get out or something? huh? Huh?
9. People who pee all over the toilet seat (#4?)
10. The cold sore that appeared last night, taking the place of its recently departed sister (pink eye)...or is that a diet coke tumor?
13 comments:
have some chocolate, and take that damn car back.
Umm, lay off the diet coke! Stat drinking something else like gin.
125 gram is one stick of butter. You know what a stick is?!
Did you happen to notice that all of the instructions on the box of cake were printed in Mexican? Cause that's where the dollar stores get their inventory...I know this.
Diet coke tumors?
Really?
I'm so stressed at the moment...I hate to think of the overseas generic Xanax tumors that I'll be dealing with in my old age next Monday when I turn 46!
Aww Jason, I might have to send you a surprise to make you feel better.
#2 is begging for a separate post....or is that me? Do tell!
which god did you piss off?
There is no such language as Mexican. It's Spanish or spanglish. Now pop a damn artery over that. HUGZ
That poor man...trying to lose weight on Diet Coke and yet probably adding another couple of GRAMS due to the tumor!
p.s. You need about 4.4 ounces of butter for that cake.
bless your heart, sugar! i hope things start to look better soon! xoxoxo
Time for some chill pills and times out. And a good hot bath and back rub. When in doubt, no more diet cola unless laced with Capt. Morgan.
Re: your door issue, make sure you didn't accidentally flip the child-safety lock on the side of the door. I did that once and it pissed me off for months. Personally, I'd let the little bastards fall out.
That can only mean one thing: you need sex!
Go out, grab the first guy you find and to the most nasty, unspeakable, unnatural things with him...
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