pet peeves

we all fucking have them. i don't care if you are a fucking SAINT, there is at least ONE THING that has the power to drive you completely APESHIT and leave you desperately clinging to your self-control so as not to rip off some asshat's extremities and beat them with the bloody stumps. don't try to tell me there isn't either. you may not have found it yet, but it's there.. waiting, biding its time.


while i consider myself to be a pretty calm, patient, and fucking mellow individual {fuck off right now. IT'S TRUE!!}, i do have a few pet peeves. quite a few. why the people in my life persist in these asinine activities when they MUST be able to see the smoke and volcanic ash billowing from my fucking ears, i will never know. i just can't explain it. below, you will find my list of pet peeves that you can reference, should you ever have the desire to have me beat you with your own fucking dismembered limbs.


1. leaving empty containers/boxes in the cupboard and/or fridge, when the garbage is LESS THAN 10 FEET AWAY and the fucking kitchen sink is WITHIN ARMS REACH. this also applies to leaving those goddamned toilet paper rolls all over the fucking bathroom. is the fucking GREAT FLOOD upon us? will we need all those cardboard tubes to construct an ark and save civilization?! no? I DIDN'T FUCKING THINK SO.

2. overflowing garbage that NO ONE seems to notice but me. oh SURE, just keep throwing shit on top of that god awful, stinking pile. maybe it will magically disappear! even better, when you throw some trash in there and miss, leave that shit on the floor. yeah, because even though i spend most of the day taking care of you fuckers, wiping your asses, and cleaning up all of the nastiness you leave behind, my life will not be complete without scooping up and re-bagging handfuls of coffee grounds, soggy diapers, and tuna cans.


3. glasses and mugs lined up BESIDE the kitchen sink, with crusty, dried on protein shakes and/or oatmeal. even WORSE, when i find that this atrocity has been committed on MY coffee mug. listen, even if you have essentially NO experience with washing any dish of any kind, you must be able to recognize that that shit is fucking hard to get off when it dries. and unless you want a permanent ceramic, glass, or plastic addition to your colon, i'd suggest you take a few seconds to RINSE THAT SHIT OUT.




4. the toothpaste and water splattered mirror and counter-tops in the bathroom. i know what happens when i brush my teeth. they get brushed, i move on. yet somehow, i am convinced that something involving water cannons and acrobatics is happening when the kids or BF brush theirs, or do anything else in the bathroom, for that matter. how else can the splatters of toothpaste, water, and GOD KNOWS what else that i find from one end of the bathroom to the other be explained?! for some reason, i get a mental image of a bunch of rabid monkeys, foaming at the mouth and crawling the fucking CEILING, while simultaneously brushing their teeth and pissing  everywhere BUT the toilet. 




5. sick days. why, you ask? because unless i am dying of the fucking bubonic plague, smallpox, AND leprosy, i dare not have one. if i do, the dishes will rot in the sink, the kids will be fed out of pots and allowed to go all googly-eyed on brain-sucking computer and wii games. as if this wasn't enough, the fact that he had to "do everything" for the day will go right the fuck to BF's already bloated head. and in the next week or so after the sick day, if i complain about ANYTHING, he will go on and on  and ON about that day he did "everything" and never once complained. yes i could imagine, it must be fucking exceedingly DIFFICULT to fuck around on the computer all day, throwing random foods at the video game zombies that were once cute little children, and making a fucking game out of piling dishes and pots and any fucking thing imaginable into to the kitchen sink. rough fucking deal. excuse me while i go shed a tear over your valiant efforts. step away please. my tears are now toxic and radioactive from all of the fucking crud i've had to pull from the kitchen drain over the years. yes, i know i have it too easy. 


6. putting shit where it DOES NOT belong. this often occurs with BF's crazy, disorganized cleaning sprees, which honestly consist of moving things around and wiping down random surfaces. the kids are guilty of this particular transgression as well, but i can let them slide. they have to put up with me for the rest of my life, so i can go easy on them now. 
anywho... the putting of shit where it does belong might not sound like that big of a deal. but i am telling, nothing gets the blood boiling like  looking in the cupboard for a snack, only to find a stack of mail. or reaching for a mug to find that BF's hoard of supplements and protein powders has migrated from its appointed spot and taken over the territory of the coffee mugs. 


7. waking up in the morning to a kitchen counter littered with granola bar wrappers, dirty dishes, crusty protein cups {see #3}, and piles of spilled protein powder and/or oatmeal. what in the sweet flying FUCK? i realize that he is in a hurry, mixing his concoctions and bagging some protein powder and whatever the fuck else to take along to the gym, but does he seriously have to go about it in the same fucking way as he goes about his bathroom business?{see #4} does every fucking action have to be carried out in the manner of a rabid  monkey?!


and there you have it. while this may not be a complete list {i fear for my fucking sanity if i take on EVERYTHING that pisses me off in one post}, it is a pretty comprehensive break down of WHAT NOT TO FUCKING DO to your wife, husband, significant other. alternatively, it also serves as a guide on how to drive some poor soul to the very brink of ripping you limb from limb. what ever the fuck floats your boat, man.