Oh yes it is that time again…rounding up the F U’s.
WARNING – THE FOLLOWING HAS BEEN RATED PG-13 FOR LANGUAGE AND CONTENT
Means if you are easily offended by the F-bomb and other choice curse words, this is NOT a good post for you to be reading. Stop now..you’ve been warned.
FUCK YOU to the medication I am taking for this damn cold/flu whateverthehellitis virus. Shit makes me have the most bizarre dreams. First it was sitting there on the front porch, talking to my youngest bro who is our landscaper since Lord Voldemort the ex-husband won’t do it any longer. There I sat, in my jammies, with a bright pink mohawk, chatting with little bro while his fire fighter co-workers mulched our leaves and weeded the flower beds. Yeah, well when I woke up and looked out the window I saw that the leaves were still there. Then there was the dream of the giant, talking bed bugs, and the one where Grumpy Dwarf the ex-hubby and I were actually talking like old friends about his 20-something year old girlfriends (yes plural) and I’m all supportive, and he put his arm around me like we are now suddenly best buddies while shopping for Christmas for our kids (when hell fucking freezes over maybe)…this damn virus has to go, these meds are seriously fucking with my brain.
FUCK YOU to the virus I’ve contracted. How the hell can I support the alcohol industry when I can barely handle one damn beer in an evening because I am already bouncing off the walls in a foggy, confused state of fever and exhaustion. More than one beer I forget who the hell I am. This is NOT good for me doing my part to financially secure the jobs of those that make and sell beer!
FUCK YOU annoying alarm clocks. I want one like the GPS I think we need. Some sexy male voice that gently rouses me from my slumber with sweet things like “come on gorgeous, time to open those stunning eyes and bring that sexy body out of bed, you can do it princess” rather than that blaring, god awful shit that it does now.