1. I am wishing so very much I could ram into your car because you have been ON MY ASS for several winding, twisting kilometers and now you've cut in front of me. Do you really the metal grill of my truck in your backseat?
2. I'm having an "Ally McBeal" moment in which I'm dreaming of punching your lights out and giving you an atomic wedgie just because your cologne reeks and it's making it difficult to breathe in the elevator. Can anyone else hear Elton John's 'Rocket Man' or is it all in my head?
3. If you leave the toast crumbs and blob of jam on the counter ONE MORE FUCKING TIME, I'm gonna go all Sarah Connor on your ass. I think the men in our lives either understand this whole PMS-ing thing or, at the very least, understand the need to pretend they understand it. Either way, clean up the god-damn crumbs. I say this with love, of course.
No comments:
Post a Comment