PMS is some triflin', unnecessary, stupid shit, I tell ya...
I hate it.
I hear me being all bitchy and mean and wantin' to kill things and intellectually, I understand why and that it's bullshit, but... still it goes on.
The dumbest things make me wanna wreak havoc with my now infamous Pusser Club.
When I'm not laughing at the absurdity of it all, that is.
(Right. Go look.) So, what the fuck was today?
(Meaning Wednesday...)
An excerise in karma just for having had a good day the day before?
Jeezus. I hated this day so damned bad, I started the sumbitch over THREE TIMES before it got it's shit straight and left me alone. Went to bed at 5am, like I have been lately... ("lately" being my whole life unless forced by jobs or whatever to do otherwise.) I was woken up less than five hours later by the sound of my fat-mouthed cock-knockin' DAWG, Ziggy, barking his empty fool head off at people moving calves, which ain't nona his fuckin' business to be barkin' at in the first place, as I've screamed at him more times in the past than I care to remember. Nothin' I like better'n to be standing nekkid on the waterbed beating on, then yellin' through, a closed window an expletives-filled diatribe at that stupid dog about what his responsibilites are and AREN'T.
Fuckhead. Then, today, we added a new twist... Eric was standing RIGHT THERE.
*sam elliot look* He heard that dickbag dog barkin'.
Why he didn't do whatever was necessary to shut him up is beyond me.
You know... like I'd do if the situation were reversed. So, I stagger down here and get Eric on the radio and ASK him why he allowed Fuckhead Fido to keep barking til he woke me up. "But, I DID tell him to shut up..." Right. That's why he kept it up, I suppose... Shithead dog shuts the fuck up when he finally does cause ME to scream at him. I'm thinking that maybe if Eric took a firmer line with the dog, like YELLED at him LOUDLY or something, Ziggmondo might listen to him, too.
I dunno. All I know is this: When I was growing up and Dad was on the "night shift", you could be put to death by my insane mother for farting "too loud" and even possibly waking Dad up.
Hence, when Eric is asleep, I will do whatever is necessary to whomever it's necessary
Damn. Then, since I was down here anyway, I checked email.
Had a response that needed a response and I felt so "urgent" about said response that I started it (and got two-thirds through it) before I even went for a cup of THE NON-EXISTANT, FUCKIN' coffee. Talk about pissed...
God Gawd Almighty. Man, on man o'schevitz (or however it's spelled).
(I think there's a "w" in there someplace but, fuckit. Either somebody tell me how it's spelled or not. I'm not in a "dictionary" frame of mind right now in the first place, plus it's in "Hearts in Atlantis", not the American Oxford anyway and THAT book is the bedroom and I'd hafta break my own "silence while he's sleepin'" rule to get it, so... like I said... fuckit.)
Back to this coffee (or lack thereof) shit... There are several unshakable facts about this whole deal that more than justify the rage that comes upon finding that the three other (expletives deleted) adults in this (expletives deleted) house can't be bothered to REPLACE the coffee that I make sure is available FOR THEM every fuckin' morning of my LIFE. First, foremost and above all else is this: I am a coffee-holic.
I've LITERALLY been drinking the stuff since I was a baby.
Seriously.
My mother used to give it to me in my baby bottle, lukewarm, with sugar and Coffeemate.
In fact, it was Maxwell House brand. I drink the shit 24-frickin'-7 nowdays and, if I don't, if I try to back off it any, I get KILLER headaches that LAUGH in the face of Tylenol 3, let alone some lame-assed aspirin. I can, and often do, drink a cup late at night, then go to bed and go right to sleep.
Hell, I'm drinkin' it now...
Folger's Columbian with Sweet-n-Low and Coffeemate. Which I actually need another cup of, sooo, I'll be right back.... Ahhhh.. I'm back and God bless Juan Valdez AND his donkey. So, have I established well enough exactly how VITAL to my continued semblence of mental stability coffee is yet? Put it this way... I'd have no problem at all draggin' an IV pole around with me every damned place I go if I could just have the shit intravenously.
Okay? I WANT MY FREAKIN' COFFEE AND DEATH BE TO HE WHO MAKES OFF WITH THE LAST OF IT WITHOUT STARTING ANOTHER POT. Now, is that so hard to understand?
I think NOT. Did alla you men who don't live here understand that? 'Cause if Y'ALL did then there ain't no earthly reason why the three men who live in this house AND who've known me for a combined total of *quickly does math on her fingers* *fuck this, she needs a pen and paper* 40 fuckin' YEARS can't understand it, know what I mean? Every ONE of these swingin' DICKS can disassemble and reassemble of FUCKIN" ENGINE, but, apparently NOT ONE OF THEM can place a paper goddamned filter in the filter thing, add three measly-assed scoops of coffee and pour a frickin' pot of water in to the back of the stupid coffee pot and push the "on" button. Can someone PUH-leeze explain that to me? *crickets* Yeah.
That's what I thought. So, anyway...
I've even gone to great expense and forethought and made this shit as simple as can be to make sure coffee is available 24/7. I make sure there is ALWAYS Folger's in the house.
I have an ENTIRE AREA of the kitchen SPECIFICALLY FOR making coffee and alla the supplies are RIGHT THERE, together.
Hell, man... I even paid $80 for a Harley-Davidson "Airpot" thing to keep the made coffee in so it doesn't sit there cooking all day and get disgusting and burnt.
(And, for those I know are gonna ask... an "airpot" is like a coffee keeper/thermos kinda thing. You pop open the lid, remove the pump thingy, pour in the coffee, put the pump wand thing back and shut the stupid lid. Then, all ya hafta do do enjoy a fresh, hot cuppa coffee (besides make the shit YOURSELF) is pump the handle on top of the lid and it squirts coffee into your cup, or all over the counter, if ya ain't payin' attention. I got it for eighty-got-damned bucks at the Harley shop on Rt. 77 back in Joisey, back when I worked for Fucknozzle at Wellacrest and was bringin' home $600+ a week...) Aaaanyway... the coffeepot, coffee, sugar, sweet-n-low, airpot, spoon and every-damned-thing else a person could POSSIBLY need to make a pot of coffee is RIGHT THERE. If I could drag the stupid kitchen sink over there, I would, because the way it now, you have to take all of FIVE STEPS across the kitchen to get the water and maybe THAT'S what is keeping these chucklefucks from making the shit when they TAKE IT ALL. So.
I get barked awake by a moron fuckin' dog who is minding buisness that ain't his in the first place.
Then, a friend of mine got dicked.
Then, there ain't no fuckin' coffee.
Oh... and not one of the boneheads will own up to being the one who took the last of it and failed to make any more.
THAT always helps my mood, too. NOOOOOT. *siiigh* So, after an hour or so of this bullshit-arity, I figure "fuck THIS, I'm gonna try this shit again", and I go back to bed. I wake up later ON MY OWN (thankyouGawd) and come back down here to....
the unneutered male cats in the house.
*SCREAM* Those assholes had discovered they could get through the "high tech" window pluggage that was thrown together last night to accomdate the new a/c in the window. "High tech" in this case meaning: cardboard and a throw rug. By the time we got back from getting the "new" a/c last night and George got it installed in the window, he was too bushed to make a properly fitting THING to stick next to it to fill the window opening.
For some reason, the a/c unit doesn't have those "wing-things" in the sides of it that you just pull out, usually, to block the opening.
SO, he "fabricated" a plug. That the cats laughed at.
And, I believe BLEW ON to move to get in. After about the fifth fuckin' time I threw Bubba out (he being the worst one to get the girls knocked up), he came in AGAIN, so I locked his ass in a cat carrier, said "fuck THIS" again and again went back to bed. This time, however, I made it beyond clear that I wasn't comin' down NO MORE til this shit was solved.
And, that THERE'D BETTER DAMNED WELL BE COFFEE WHEN I DO COME BACK DOWN, TOO.
Damn it. So, it's heigh-ho, heigh-ho, up the stairs I go.... again.
(Though, I do belive in the guys' case it was more like "Bye ho, bye ho" at this point... whatever.) I fell asleep with "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil" on my face for another hour or so. Came back down again and.... No unneutered male cats.
And... COFFEE!!!!!!
Yay!!!!!! So why was this so godforsaken hard in the first place... I ask you.
(Though I don't expect an answer. It just WAS, apparently.) Not long after I got back down here (for the third freekin' time, which by then was around 8pm), one by one, the guys peeled off and went to bed. *contented sigh* Since then, like for the last six or seven hours, I've sat here, DRINKING MY COFFEE and reading "Midnight". Talked to Paul for a few, too.
Answered a coupla emails. And been in a perfectly okay mood, too. And, thanks to one "communique" I got, I now understand why, the last time I got "in trouble" over weed and wanted to "just sit the fuck down and TALK TO the stupid Prosecutor and get this shit cleared up", people's reactions ranged from horror to hilarity. I see NOW why that was such an insane idea.
And, no, I haven't gotten into trouble again.
It's just that I'm kinda sorta in the "other" role right now and...
I get it.
NOT a good idea. Oh.. and one more thing about the whole "coffee issue".... If any of you ever meet any of these dipshits I live with, could y'all please explain to them that it's NOT the "iced tea fairy" who REPLACES THEIR (not MY) iced tea overnight, after they've drank... drunk?... CONSUMED it all? That it is I who does that, which just pissed me off all the more when they drink alla MY coffee (and yes, I can call it "mine" because I drink more of it than those three combined, thanks) and don't make more?
Please?
I mean, it's not like I haven't mentioned this a time or two myself, but... maybe they'd HEAR it if it came from somebody else.
Or believe it.
Whichever.
The turds. And, while yer at it, could ya also tell them that this skit/shit: Male voice: I thought he was gonna make it.
Deeper male voice: I thought he was gonna make it.
Multi-pitched, sometimes squeaky teenaged male voice: I thought HE was gonna make it.... while marginally funny on a "normal" day, is, especially on PMS day, in several states grounds for justifiable homicide?
Or should be?
(Even if it isn't, if we can convince them it is, it may end this bullshit for good. See what I'm sayin'? He'p me out here, okay?)
(At least don't make a point of tellin' 'em I made it up. I think I've nearly got 'em convinced... *weg*) And now, since I got to just chill for a while, undisturbed, with my coffee and my book AND I do really understand that these nitwits don't really mean to be bigger dumbasses than Eric Foreman with a frontal lobotomy, I'm gonna straighten up the house, make a grocery run and bake 'em a cake.
And, try like hell to be nice in spite of the hormonal HELL goin' on in my brain. By the way... is there anything besides weed that helps with this shit?
OTC pills, fruit, veggies, a hammer to the skull, anything? I always know when it's coming, I can sure as HELL tell when it's here, yet there doesn't seem to be a damned thing I can do to control it.
Even as I'm being wicked, I know it and I hate it.
Which just pisses me off more. So, if anybody has any solutions for it, let me know, okay, please? I won't be the only one who'll love ya for it, believe me. Peace
(What a concept...)
Comments
1
Hahaha. I am SO glad there's a few hundred miles between you and I right now: one of the best ways to reduce the symptoms of PMS is...
Reduce caffeine intake.
But wait! Before you hop in your car to track my ass down and kill me, magnesium, Vitamin B6 and Primrose Oil all have some effects too.
*runs for the hills*
Reduce caffeine intake.
But wait! Before you hop in your car to track my ass down and kill me, magnesium, Vitamin B6 and Primrose Oil all have some effects too.
*runs for the hills*
Posted by: Chablis at July 20, 2006 05:36 AM (tMoUV)
2
FIRE IN THE HOLE!
Posted by: Mad William Flint at July 20, 2006 05:41 AM (irwyS)
3
God Damn that was a long post.
Posted by: Catfish at July 20, 2006 08:26 AM (lkkbB)
4
Aw, yer safe Chablis... *grin*
Though I do feel compelled to point out that yesterday's "restricted caffeine intake" nearly resulted in the bludgeoning death of several people.... those coffee-not-makin' turdburglers...
BUT.... I wanna try those other things...
So, thank you for giving me a place to start.
And, Mikey.... I keep laughing out loud at that...
I can just see you walkin' around New York and in your cube-farm wearing an Army helmet with shit written on it and crap stuck in the strap around it. Animal Mother in a suit and an Army helmet.... *slithers outta chair, laughing*
Then, anytime anybody/thing makes a noise at all similar to a whistle or there's a random squeak in the right pitch, he'll throw an inch-thick stack of papers straight up into the air, scream "INCOMING!!!!" and dive under the nearest desk and, likely as not, not believe the "all clear, you goof. What AILS you today, anyway?"
Oh shit... then he'll say "PMS, man... PMS" and nobody's gonna know WHAT to make of that AND it'd be the truth.
(Now, see? TODAY I got my coffee FIRST THING. Much less "testy", though for some reason, much more CORNY. And, yes, that's a "C"... *snerk*)
How the hell does THAT work, anyhow?
I've heard that before. Chicks'll say they get horny right about now, but what guy could stand to be around 'em during this shit?
*coupla contemplative seconds later*
'Cept maybe a plastic kinda rubbery one who runs on "D" cells... ohgawd. Never mind... (bitch).
Okay, now I hear Emily Litella in her screechy voice saying...
"What's all this I keep hearing about "minstrel issues"? How much of an "issue" could a guy going around singing even BE, anyway? Maybe he can't sing but, at least he's tryin' and... what? Oooh... Nevermind. Bitch."
*several choke-fit-filled minutes later*
Gawd... so, yeah, there WAS coffee today.
In fact, both the Harley thing AND the coffeepot were full.
Now, I'm just kinda startin' to wonder what "they" put IN it...
A coupla tabs of acid, some liquid THC, what?
I am just crackin' myself UP here.... (and the fact that it's probably ONLY myself just makes me laugh even harder. I can picture the looks on your faces, like "whut t'HELL?" and it just makes me start laughin' all over again, like when I tell an absolutely cor-NY joke and Eric just sits there, lookin' at me, watching me roll around on the floor laughing harder at the look on his face than the punchline. I need another cuppa coffee...)
And, yeah Cat... I had that same thought... *giggle*
Though I do feel compelled to point out that yesterday's "restricted caffeine intake" nearly resulted in the bludgeoning death of several people.... those coffee-not-makin' turdburglers...
BUT.... I wanna try those other things...
So, thank you for giving me a place to start.
And, Mikey.... I keep laughing out loud at that...
I can just see you walkin' around New York and in your cube-farm wearing an Army helmet with shit written on it and crap stuck in the strap around it. Animal Mother in a suit and an Army helmet.... *slithers outta chair, laughing*
Then, anytime anybody/thing makes a noise at all similar to a whistle or there's a random squeak in the right pitch, he'll throw an inch-thick stack of papers straight up into the air, scream "INCOMING!!!!" and dive under the nearest desk and, likely as not, not believe the "all clear, you goof. What AILS you today, anyway?"
Oh shit... then he'll say "PMS, man... PMS" and nobody's gonna know WHAT to make of that AND it'd be the truth.
(Now, see? TODAY I got my coffee FIRST THING. Much less "testy", though for some reason, much more CORNY. And, yes, that's a "C"... *snerk*)
How the hell does THAT work, anyhow?
I've heard that before. Chicks'll say they get horny right about now, but what guy could stand to be around 'em during this shit?
*coupla contemplative seconds later*
'Cept maybe a plastic kinda rubbery one who runs on "D" cells... ohgawd. Never mind... (bitch).
Okay, now I hear Emily Litella in her screechy voice saying...
"What's all this I keep hearing about "minstrel issues"? How much of an "issue" could a guy going around singing even BE, anyway? Maybe he can't sing but, at least he's tryin' and... what? Oooh... Nevermind. Bitch."
*several choke-fit-filled minutes later*
Gawd... so, yeah, there WAS coffee today.
In fact, both the Harley thing AND the coffeepot were full.
Now, I'm just kinda startin' to wonder what "they" put IN it...
A coupla tabs of acid, some liquid THC, what?
I am just crackin' myself UP here.... (and the fact that it's probably ONLY myself just makes me laugh even harder. I can picture the looks on your faces, like "whut t'HELL?" and it just makes me start laughin' all over again, like when I tell an absolutely cor-NY joke and Eric just sits there, lookin' at me, watching me roll around on the floor laughing harder at the look on his face than the punchline. I need another cuppa coffee...)
And, yeah Cat... I had that same thought... *giggle*
Posted by: Stevie at July 20, 2006 02:03 PM (Sqtc5)
5
Yo Cat.... bet ya lost that other nut readin' all that huh?
For you folks who may not know/believe it... she talks just like she writes... 'cept longer and faster.
Paul
For you folks who may not know/believe it... she talks just like she writes... 'cept longer and faster.
Paul
Posted by: Light & Dark at July 20, 2006 04:47 PM (I58Kg)
6
I make the gotdam coffee every morning, and I'd do it for you too. But no way will I have Coffeemate in the crib. Or milk, sugar, bourbon, RolAids or whateveah. Blasphemy.
Posted by: outfoxed at July 20, 2006 05:02 PM (iS0pJ)
7
The only thing worse than this is when my daughters DUMP out my coffee in order to use my coffee maker as a tea maker. I HAVE threatened to strangle them.
Posted by: Dawn at July 20, 2006 10:04 PM (ZJsIz)
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