Every time I'm in a perfectly good mood, I come home and these people screw it up. Is a clean house too much to ask for? If I can see the pizza box on the floor, why can't you? I don't get. Am I missing something? Did everybody in this household go blind when I wasn't looking?
And if my cell phone doesn't stop freakin' ringing with some idiot on the other line who can't possibly wipe his ass without my help, I'm going to scream! Stop calling me! Stop calling me! STOP FUCKING CALLING ME!
Uh oh. There's that sharp pain in my head again.
What are those dark spots doing floating in the air like that?
Just found your blog and your place sounds like mine. UGGHHH Why can't they pick up their trash, I wonder? It is mind-boggling.
ReplyDeleteMind-boggling and frustrating as all hell! I feel like I'm in a low-budget episode of the Twilight Zone.
ReplyDelete