Thursday, August 27

Roommates suck!

I'm going to be honest. I wasn't ready when I had my first baby. Fortunately my mother was very cool about it. So yeah, I left the baby with her for a few months, and found a place to stay where I could squeeze a few more months of enjoyment out of my own youth before being saddled with a screaming, puking, shit-caked infant. Can you blame me?

I found a nice cheap room for rent in the classifieds. It was in a house owned by a young nurse named Ellen. I paid her a small deposit and moved in without incident. For the first night we got along great! We talked about guys and shared a nice bottle of wine. But soon, like most roommates, we began to have our differences.

For one thing, the bitch had a cat, and I did not want that thing getting on my bed. I would spray it all over with nasty cherry air freshener whenever it came anywhere near my bedroom. Ellen asked me to stop, and to quit wearing her clothes, and eating her snacks. She also asked me to stop telling callers that she was out getting an abortion. Well I'm sorry, but I wasn't trying to be her answering machine!

She complained about me walking around the place naked while her friends were visiting. That was just silly, because this big ol' bush covers up my lady business completely! She would also bitch about me not paying for my part of the utilities, but they were all in her name, so why the hell should I be paying them? I wasn't using that much electricity anyway (other than the dope I was growing in my closet!)

But our biggest problem was that my room was right above hers, and she worked a day shift. She couldn't stand the fact that I was free to stay up late dancing and fucking and fighting while she had to go to bed early. She also seemed jealous of my 50-year-old sugar daddy, who paid all my shit so that I wouldn't have to work.

She finally had enough after returning from her uncle's funeral out of state. She was supposed to be gone all weekend, so I threw this huge rager of a party. At about midnight she came storming up in there and kicked everybody out. Then, as she was telling me off, she walked in her room and found three guys banging a fat hooker on her bed. To make matters worse, the hooker's pimp was sitting in her papasan chair, watching.

Eventually I just gave in to her self-righteous demands and made arrangements to move out. But before I left I made a point of letting her stupid "indoor" cat out the back door. Then I dumped its litter box out into her underwear drawer. And finally, to make sure there was no misunderstanding, I smashed a large jar of kim chee against her headboard, which sent hunks of fermented cabbage and shards of broken glass all over the top of her pillows and bedspread.


Thursday, August 20

Men can't do anything right!

Getting the kids ready each morning is a huge pain. That's why I like to leave for work before they get up. I enjoy a leisurely breakfast somewhere, or just surf the net at my desk until my shift. That leaves my new husband Phil to wake the kids, get them washed, dressed, and fed before he leaves for work. Of course, being a man, he does a pretty crummy job!

I don't cater to my kids, but it would be nice if Phil would, because he's supposed to be building a relationship with them. They have a hard enough time showing him respect, especially with the way he makes me berate him all the time. So I think the least he could do is pick them up some McDonald's breakfast when they ask for it, or to drive them to school so they don't have to ride the stupid bus.

Phil tries to be the man of the house, but it's hard. I just can't stand the way little Jailen cries when he gets stern with her. That's why I make him plead with her to be good instead. Of course if it was me I'd just let her tantrums run their course. Like at nice restaurant, I'm not gonna waste my time trying to coax a screaming child out from under the table.

Phil would rather waste money with babysitters. I think he's just being selfish, because he doesn't want to deal with my kids all the time. But if he really loves me then he should love my children's tantrums too! Men just can't understand the mentality of a mother who has spent some time being single. He needs to learn that he's expendable. Or, as I always like to say: "It's me and my kids against the world!".

It's not just with the kids though. Phil screws everything else up too! The other day he broke out the grill and cooked up some hot dogs. I know he did this because I'm always saying how much I love grilled meats. But we had run out of buns, and that dumb fucker tried to get me to eat my hot dog on a folded piece of white bread! I just threw it on the floor, and went to Outback Steakhouse...alone!

And sometimes Phil tries to do his own thing without asking me first. Like he'll go get a beer with his coworkers, and I don't know about it until I get home and hear his message on the machine. Then he tries to escape to the bathroom when he gets back, so I have to yell at him through the door. He tries to act surprised at my anger, but he knows what he did! He doesn't need to be going out with his stupid friends! He knows he needs to get home and rub these feet!

The other night I really ripped his ass about how much he annoys me. I told him that I'm sick of how he empties the dishwasher so loudly. And how he's always watching TV shows that I don't like. Then I told him that our sex is too gentle, and that he needs to be more of a man. I mean Christ, we're married! I shouldn't have to tell him what I like!

Phil tried to make it all up to me by apologizing. He even brought me a lovely single red rose. That was the last straw, because he knows that I only like roses that are dipped in gold like the ones they sell in the SkyMall catalog. Other times he's tried to make me happy by buying me jewelry, or clothes that make me look my age. But why? I've made it abundantly clear that I prefer to get clothes from Forever 21.

Friday, August 14

Hazing the new guy!

My company just hired a new facilities manager for our building. Mr. Durwood Walsh is 62 years old, and I'm told that he's had a difficult time finding work. He was planning to retire with his wife, but that was before his old company laid him off, and his 401k lost so much in the recession. I'm glad our company gave him a chance. In light of his situation, I decided to put him through his week of hazing in secret, so as not to embarrass him.

On Monday I introduced myself. Mr. Walsh was very pleasant and personable. While he took the time to stop and meet everyone else, I snuck outside and laid a nice thick slice of cheap bologna on the hood of his car. Later that morning he spent his break time fixing our copier, which was all jammed up with copier paper. That's was nice because it's actually my job. While he was busy with that I took the opportunity to empty my Ped-Egg out on top of his keyboard.

On Tuesday he arrived to discover that "someone" had let all the air out of his trusty hemorrhoid cushion. When he stopped in to the break room for coffee I went over to his desk and shredded all the forms that HR gave him to fill out. Later that day he discovered some mysterious Pop Tart crusts stuffed up into his stapler. And he's been getting a lot of calls from a privatized number, but the caller keeps hanging up as soon as he answers his phone. Who on Earth could it be?

On Wednesday I pretended that my computer wasn't working so I had to use the vacant desk next to Durwood's. I spend the entire day distracting him with annoying sounds. I used my speakerphone to make all my calls with, wore my my noisiest bracelets, and popped and smacked my gum. I clicked my pen, burped, and loudly cleared my throat as often as possible. I also spent 20 minutes slurping the bottom of a milkshake.

On Thursday he called in sick. That's probably because I'm just getting over a flu, and I've been coughing on his stuff all week, especially his jacket. Now I hear from our director that Durwood hasn't been sick in a very long time, and this virus has hit him so hard that he had to be hospitalized! As of his call-in this morning he thinks his wife may be coming down with it too. The really funny thing is that his company insurance doesn't kick in for another 6 months. Still, it's a small price to pay for being part of the team!


Tuesday, August 11

Wild Virginia!

We don't always think about it here in Richmond, but take a short drive West and you'll discover that our fine state is mostly a big beautiful wilderness. There are mountains to climb, rivers to raft, and a variety of animals to feast upon. Unfortunately, our relationship with God's creatures isn't always so fruitful!

I'll never forget the time I used Phil's truck to take our trash to an unlocked dumpster. I stopped off for some coffee at a diner just out of town. While stirring my drink I noticed a couple of greedy crows who were tearing the trash bags in the back of the truck. I snuck out the side of the building and began to open fire with my handgun (don't worry, it shoots copper pellets!).

I managed to hit one of the crows, but it didn't die. Instead it started flapping around and crying bloody murder! For some reason that caused another half dozen crows to show up out of nowhere, and they were all screeching like crazy! Then some people in the diner began looking and pointing. I had no choice but to get in the truck and take off, with a trail of garbage blowing out of the truck behind me!

Then there was our weekend camping trip last Spring. I borrowed a truck cab from a friend so Phil and I could take the kids to spend a weekend in Pennsylvania. The cab had been sitting out in a big pile of dry leaves since last year. We threw the cab on, put the kids in the back, and headed out. They ended up having to take their shoes off so they could use 'em to crush all the spiders that came pouring out of that truck cab!

Come to find out, these were actually Brown Recluse spiders! These things have managed to infest not only the truck, but the kid's bedrooms as well. Brandon and little Jailen are now covered in black, gaping spider bites. I'm sure they'll be a real hit at school this season with these dark rotting holes on 75% of their bodies. It's also a pain for me because the holes must be stuffed with iodine soaked gauze at all times!

My final wildlife adventure involved a solo drunken drive home from a bar out in the county. After three rounds of Coal Miner's daughter at the Karaoke machine I was finally sloppy enough to call it quits. On one of the windy back roads I managed to hit something with the van. I watched as the force of impact launched it's lifeless body out into the woods. I have no idea what kind of animal I hit, because all that was left on the ground was some bloody hair and a gold filling.