Dear Ice Cream Truck circling the neighborhood nearby like a shark on a boating accident,
It’s 1:30 in the afternoon you idiot, the kids are in school.
Tag: Chances Are You Piss Me Off
Using the U-Scan should not be a 20 fucking minute process.
Scan, bag, scan, bag, scan, bag, pay, done. It seems so simple, yet there are SOOOOOOOO many people out there can’t handle the complexity of the U-Scan lanes.
It’s not rocket science, fuckers. If you can’t take the heat, get the fuck out of the kitchen.
Do yourself a favor and quit demonstrating to the rest of the world you aren’t capable of functioning in a rapidly advancing technological society.
Oh, and for the love of god people, CHECKS? People still use checks?!!!???!?!?!
It completely blows my mind that in a climate where there is a chance for snow at least 7 months out of the year SO MANY FUCKING PEOPLE CAN’T DRIVE IN IT!
Seriously. Did you forget how to drive in the 2 days since it last snowed?
I’ve decided it’s not the snow itself that’s the problem, it’s the drivers in it. You see, snow has this amazing quality of turning marginally smart people into stark raving mad idiots when a few flakes start to fly.
So what the hell is your problem anyway?
Most of you already know there are a lot of things out there that piss me off. In the spirit of my own sanity and having my own platform to bitch, I present to you the first in a mostly semi-monthly probably-whenever-the-fuck-something-pisses-me-off series I’m calling: Chances Are You Piss Me Off.
Dear People That Park Their Car at the Front Door of a Store,
Fuck You.
I work hard at getting my spot 5 or 6 back in the parking lot with the rest of the human population not good enough to be you. If I have to, I’ll circle the lot 3 or 4 times to pickup that awesome spot near the front. The fact you gloat as you put it in park in the most obvious of non-parking places serves to enrage me even further as you wave cars to pass you, because you, yes YOU, and every right to sit in the way of everyone else.
I’d love to stop and ask you when you were ever elected His Highness King Asshole, or Her Majesty Queen I-Do-What-I-Want, but I usually stop myself knowing full well my vocabulary at that point would consist of nothing more than ULTRA FANCY four letter words your tiny brain might not comprehend. Instead I can offer nothing more than a glare featuring a nasty sneer.
So the next time one of you even thinks about pulling that must supreme of lazy-asshole maneuvers, let me know. I’ll help you decide not to.