A List of Shit That Pisses Me Off

It’s been a while since we had ourselves a good, long rant here on the blog, and I think it’s about time to rectify that. So here’s my list of shit that pisses me off. Notice that it’s not “Shit that’s pissing me off today.” No, this is a list of all the things that are constantly pissing me off, and it’s not in any particular order or level of severity. It’s just in the order that I thought of it. Lazy, I know.

• 

  This is my new word of the week.

  Facebook: Facebook is pissing me off a LOT. WTF, Facebook? I post to my page “fans” and only 15% of them get to see the post? WTF kind of lamesauce are you asshats cooking up over there? This means business/blog/professional pages will just overpost to compensate, and ultimately that will piss off standard Facebook users. Duh. What, you go public and now it’s time to piss everyone off? Because if that’s the goal, well played, douche canoes. Well played.

• Facebook users: Facebook users who can’t take the time to type properly or, apparently, the time to take a fucking English class despite having been born in this country and having spoken and written English their entire lives, piss me off. You know, maybe I should just stay off Facebook. It’s not helping my stress level. But seriously, who are these buttmunches? They post shit like, “i am so shur they’re not even lisining to what your saying u shoud definately say sumthing its ridikulus.” The grammar and spelling (and lack thereof) are bad enough to keep me up at night. It is damn near fucking impossible for me to read a single page of updates without having the skin-crawling heebie-boo-jeebies as I imagine a whole generation of text-speaking illiterates attempting to run our country as they submit new legislation to Congress called the “Billz of online Rites LOL.” May Mr. Coffee help us all.

• Women who say “hubby” all the time: Seriously? WTF, ladies? He’s your husband, not your “hubby.” Does he call you his “wifey?” Because let me fucking tell you, if he DOES, you should A) Keep that crap to yourselves and B) Stop it. Stop it right fucking now. You’re annoying the crap out of EVERYONE. If you don’t care, then rock on with your annoyingness. If you do care, you’re fucking welcome for the smack upside your figurative head.

• 

  Or at least hide you from his newsfeed. I sure did.

  More Facebook users:People who post nothing to Facebook except a constantly updated stream that is basically an unfathomably long progression of variations of the exact same thing:

  • People who post hourly scripture passages, reminders to people of how blessed they are because Jesus loves them, and calls to lift up entire families in prayer annoy me. Yes, I’m happy for you that you have something that makes you happy and helps you make sense of the world. I’m sure your constant Facebooking while you ignore your kids/job/pets is definitely earning you all sorts of metaphysical brownie points with Jesus who will save you a good seat on the fast track express bus to the good neighborhood in Heaven.
  • People who use Facebook for their passive-aggressive and/or co-dependent thinly veiled cries for help. You need help? Fucking ask for it. Don’t post shit like, “Throwing in the towel. Can’t take this any more. Bye,” or “What’s the point? Unbelievable.” This is both uncomfortable and annoying. You need help, ask. You don’t, then just fucking say whatever it is you’re trying to get people to ask about before you’ll say it and skip the middleman. Basic economics, asshats.
  • People who post nothing but pictures of their dogs, kids, or food: cut that shit out. Occasional pics of any of the three are interesting. A running diary of any of the three is not. Also, once the food is mostly EATEN, fucking stop taking pictures of it, weirdos.

• Even more Facebook users:
  • People who just post idiotic images they think are funny but really aren’t, if only because the same images have been around for so fucking long that these people just look even more idiotic for posting some thing so old and thinking it’s incredibly original.
  • People who repost shit that Snopes can tell you is BS in about 2.4 seconds.
  • People who “like” EVERYTHING you do on Facebook. Everything. “I was late for my meeting this morning after Janie spilled chocolate milk all over my silk blouse right as I was walking out the door and then Joey puked in my hair.” {LIKE!} Fuck you.

What the fuck am I doing on Facebook? Apparently it just annoys the shit out of me.

And then, there are some other people I find as annoying as forks in the spoon section of the silverware drawer, but I deleted that part because this was getting too long and the part I deleted wasn’t funny enough to merit a damn online novel. You’re welcome.

You know, that’s still a long fucking list and it did not take me long to think of it. That’s a lotta pissed off for someone who’s still in her jammies. Sweet Jesus in Birks. I really do need to get laid.

And Now, A Message From Mr. Northman.

So I’m all set to go to sleep last night. Kids tucked in, George — Our Elf on The Damn Shelf — posed as a school teacher in front of a bunch of Green Army Men (complete with white board strewn with kiddo equations, because I’m a nerd like that), eye cream applied, stove knobs checked (twice), and Mr. Northman texts me.

Last time I'll use this image, I promise. Maybe.

Northman: Nice blog.

Me: Did you read much?

Northman: Every bit. Loved it.

(Gotta love an encouraging man. Sexy.)

Me: Thanks! IDK who’s reading, but WTF? It’s fun.

Northman: What r u doing right now?

Me: Just in bed. Nothing. Reading. How are you?

Northman: So you’re going to sleep?

Me: Not if you keep texting me.

Northman: Sorry! Get some rest, Bunny.

(Yes, he calls me Bunny. No, I’m not ashamed to admit it. If a man that sexy gives you a nickname, especially one that has to do with how often he’d like to fuck you, you go with it, people.)

Me: LOL. Not giving you a hard time. I meant the more you text me the greater the odds are I’ll end up with my clothes off. But I do need to get some sleep.

Northman: Ok, Bunny. Go to sleep, love.

Me: Thanks, honey. Sleep well.

Northman, because he’s an asshole even if he’s the sexiest thing on two legs: And try not to think about how much I want to (BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP. Sorry, readers. This shit’s between me and Mr. Northman.) with my fingers and my incredibly (Insert Jeopardy music here.) and then take your (How ‘bout them Chargers?) before I kiss you goodnight.

Me: Aaaaaand now I’ll be up for another hour. I will get you for that.

Northman: I certainly hope so.

And that’s why I love that man. Or at least lust him like crazy.

So I slept fucking GREAT, and I got up, properly praised Mr. Coffee, and sat down to check my site stats all before my kids got up to find George. This was thanks to my neighbor and his fucking Harley. There are noise regs for a reason, asshole! Yes, you gotta get to work. No, you don’t have to rev it like that. But it’s my New Year’s resolution to not have the neighbors think I’m a crazy person (anymore), so I got a head start on that crap by not running out in my Tweety Bird slippers to yell at that inconsiderate asshole.

Praised Be.

Anyway, so I poured my coffee and sat on the back porch with my iPad and a really fucking heavy blanket because it’s freezing but I like it because I’m weird like that and it’s just so nice and quiet out back in the winter. And I checked my site stats. Can I just say this? Do you people sleep? Holy shit on a shingle, web dwellers. That’s some ego-boosting shit right there. I used to blog about parenting, and I was lucky to get 600 hits in 6 months. I guess a hell of a lot more people want to read about barking men, shaved (and not!) pussies, being propositioned for sex by your (I realized left this part out: young, hot) girlfriend for her husband’s benefit, or misusing Skype video conferencing for completely inappropriate (and awesome) purposes. Well, you know what? That’s freaking awesome, and I salute you with my coffee. Thanks.