I’ve been in a bad mood all day. It’s nobody’s fault, it just IS. Sometimes I get cranky. What of it? Ooooo…but when I do get cranky, I do try not to take it out on other people, but Christ on a cracker, what the FUCK is going on here? Nobody knows and nobody is talking and now I’m even more cranky and that, my friends, IS somebody’s fault.
No, I don’t give a shit about the basketball. Or the shoe. I’m not even mad about the empty bag of M & M’s because, well, I ate them because FUCK IT, and DON’T TELL ME THAT EATING AN ENTIRE BAG OF CANDY IS A BAD IDEA BECAUSE IT WILL JUST MAKE ME MORE ANGRY AND I WILL FLATTEN YOUR FACE INTO A PANCAKE WITH THAT DIRTY SPATULA ON MY KITCHEN TABLE. What chaps my ass is the video tape.
ABS OF STEEL.
Is that hint? A joke?
WHY IS IT ON MY KITCHEN TABLE?
WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS?
That shit is supposed to be packed away in a box in the basement so that I don’t have to be reminded that one time I thought about trying to get me some abs of steel so I bought ABS OF STEEL and never got around to getting abs of steel because I never got around to even playing the video tape. I am sure a comma should be in that sentence somewhere, but I don’t fucking care.
I asked Brody what he saw, but he got all nervous and embarrassed and shit dog hair all over my pajama bottoms.
I asked the kids what the haps was with the video tape and I swear to Bob they managed to keep straight faces.
From what I gather, our friend, Nobody, did it. Nobody is an asshole.
I know that I said that my next post was going to be about being flexible and mental health, but today I feel stabby and flabby and nobody is responsible. It’s just the way it goes sometimes, you know? And don’t tell me that I’m responsible for the flabby part because I didn’t do ABS OF STEEL. I swear to bob, DO NOT EVEN GO THERE, MOTHERFUCKER!
Is it bedtime yet?