Please excuse me while I complain

I’m feeling a little honeybadgerish now. Or stabby. Or just downright bitchy.

My apologies. If you don’t like swear words, rants, or any references to PMS, then stop reading. Or if you are married to me, you can stop reading also.

Yes, hormones can do a number on us all. Why even men can be total dicks if they have too much testosterone. Think of steroids. Dickwads.

Now there’s estrogen. Good lord, how much of this stuff do we need coursing through us? Well, enough I guess to keep us from growing facial hair and large Adam’s apples. But geeze. Sometimes I would just love to be some asexual being crawling along the ocean floor.

Or a honey badger. I think a honey badger doesn’t know the difference between a good day, and a PMS day. They just don’t give a shit.

Namaste Mutha Fuckahs!

Yesterday I got all mad at the hubs for leaving dishes in the sink and dishwasher over the entire weekend I left him alone and took the kids to the beach. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so mad if going to the ‘beach’ didn’t require a 4 hour drive in the pouring rain and a weekend of my two kids bickering over what DVD they get to watch in what bedroom. AND, getting to cook and clean just like at home. Not that I am not grateful for our wonderful friends having us over to their family beach house. But there wasn’t room service, laundry service or any nannies. I did it to give the hubs a break. Not make MORE work for me.

Okay, I’m over it. It’s fine. He’s sorry. I’m sorry.

My apologies for this ridiculous, useless blog post. Unless of course, you are feeling stabby too and maybe this helped you from actually stabbing someone, or something.

Stolen from the Bloggess' Zazzle store. Get some. It might cheer you up.

13 thoughts on “Please excuse me while I complain

  1. There is nothing I hate more than fucking dishes left in the sink. I hope they weren’t caked with shit too. Oh man, if I could tell you the number of times I wanted to take all that old, caked on food and put it on my husband’s side of the bed. But then I’d have to wash the sheets, which always stops me from doing.

  2. So make up your mind, is your rage due to the dirty dishes or PMS? I understand that they are both your husband’s fault, but the world needs to know!

  3. Sometimes I feel like I have two young children and a grown up child:) There is a long list of things which boggle my mind…like getting a dish to the sink, but NOT the dishwasher. OR taking the last of the water or diet coke from the fridge and not replacing them with the others waiting in the garage. How about replacing the toilet paper or paper towel? And the list goes on…do you think they regress with marriage or we just become their hormonal mothers? I guess we will always have children in the house, ha!

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