people who create unnecessary drama at work

1. Get a fucking hobby.

2. We're not in Jr. High any more. Put on your big girl panties and DEAL.

3. I take enough shit from the rest of the world that I don't need it from you.

4. You either.

5. Seriously. I hear TV is a good hobby. Or heroin. You know, something that will occupy a lot of time and give you something to talk about.

6. Really, just because you live an miserable fucking existence doesn't mean that I have to as well.

7. FUCK OFF.

people who run the salem fair

Ok. Part-two of the salem fair post.

I have two subjects to address here.

The first is this:

There was a booth, tucked away into the "food court" area of the fair (basically the pre-puking your guts out staging area) which advertised "The World's Smallest Woman" and had a tiny little house sitting in it. It also said "$10,000 if you could find somebody smaller" "Just 22 inches tall" "Fits in her son's hand" etc.

Thinking that it was a hoax, or an optical illusion, my husband ponied up the fifty cents to walk through and see this woman. When he came around to the back, he found a black midget in her 60s, sitting in what appeared to be the perfect miniature living room, watching the news. She looked over at him and said "My name is Gloria, I'm 22 inches tall and 65 years old." There was a coffee can for tips and a sign saying that she will not dance for you, but she will take photos with you for a dollar.

While I was waiting outside, I noticed a smaller sign stating that this was the "West Indies Cultural Exhibition"

WHAT???????



Secondly, my husband got injured on a ride.

You know those haunted mine shaft or haunted house "rides" that are huge at various different amusment parks and carnivals? Well, he decided to ride theirs, which was the "Lost MIne."

Everything on the ride was broken, and just before the ride ended, he got whacked by a skull duct taped onto a stick poking out of the wall. And bruised VERY badly, I might add.

Were we the litigious types, we might be owning the Salem fair...

people who attend the salem fair

Bring me your tired, your poor, your hungry...

your morbidly obese
your pregnant 13-year-olds
your toothless
your white kids trying to be black
your 60-year-olds dressing like they're 13
your crack whores
your slack jawed yokels
your honest-to-goodness hayseeds

Bring me your hillbillies
your bearded ladies
your chinless
your obnoxiously loud
your illiterate
your elderly smoking through tracheotomies


Yes folks, bring them to me, and I will take them to the Salem fair... where they'll truly belong.

Greatest freakshow on earth. And you don't even have to pay to see it...

people who live next door to me

The things they do that irritate me on a daily basis:

1. Exist.

2. Let their 10-year-old kid ride a motorcross motorcycle at high speeds up and down our street WITHOUT A HELMET

3. Listening to the fucking motorcross motorcycle and its fucking mufflerless NOISES all day long.

4. Blow stuff up all through July and August late at night.

5. Burn all their trash in a barrel in their back yard. This includes plastic.

6. Decide that the right time to burn their trash is at 11pm and then leave their burn barrel unattended so that I wake up at 3am with a bedroom full of smoke and look out the window to see flames shooting about 15 feet out of the barrel.

7. Exist.

8. Leave two dogs tied up in their backyard all year round. One is male, one is female. Neither is fixed. SUCKS ASS when the female goes into heat because all we hear is both dogs yipping and moaning because they can't get at each other. Really sucks ass any time I look out the window and see those poor dogs pacing the same 20 foot area day in and day out...

9. Have a gigantic brighter-than-the-sun security light in their back yard. Which shines into our bedroom. On a street that is well lit with street lights.

10. Have about five cars sitting in their yard in various states of disrepair.

11. They moved from the house we live in now (a very nice brick three-bedroom with hardwood floors) into a DOUBLEWIDE nextdoor. It's great and all that we get to live in this very nice house for very little rent, but why in holy hell would you want to live in a goddamned doublewide when you were living in a perfectly lovely brick house?

12. Their boy (mentioned above) is constantly trooping through our yard with a BB gun shooting at whatever is moving nearby.

13. They're constantly screaming at each other. It is blissfully unintelligible, but it's still there and it still irritates...

I'm sure I'll add to this list as time goes on. And I'm sure I'm forgetting things...

people who blow stuff up until 12am around the 4th of July

So, my next-door neighbors who provide me with a never ending font of shit to get irritated by (on a near hourly basis) have cause me to absolutely freakin REVILE the 4th of July.

Starting about three days before the 4th they start (I kid you not) shooting off their various guns at random moments and setting off firecrackers. On occasion, setting off firecrackers by firing their guns at them.

This usually goes on from 9pm to 12am until somebody calls the cops on them.

FOR TWO WEEKS.

So yeah. For two weeks in July I feel like I'm living in Sarajevo circa 1994. Not to mention the other random times that these dumbasses spend firing high powered rifles over the field across the street.

You know, dudes, we're in the city limits. We ain't THAT far out in the country. Do you honestly think nobody will notice? Especially when you're firing your weapons AT a heavily traveled highway? AAAAAARGGGGGGHHHH

Yeah. So this morning our back yard was full of the detritus of our neighbor's "patriotic" celebrations. I'm so glad that honoring our country's independence means drinking beer, acting like an asshole, blowing shit up, and, oh, I don't know, KEEPING YOUR NEXTDOOR NEIGHBOR'S INFANT UP UNTIL MIDNIGHT.

aargh.

people who make women's clothing

I don't even know where to start with this one...

Ok. So the only time I could walk into a store and find something that looked cute the minute I tried it on was when I was a size two.

Needless to say, post-baby, I am NOT a size two.

I spent a couple of hours yesterday trying on clothing. My boobs are bigger than average right now (post-baby). Normally I'm a size 12. From the waist down right now, I am still a 12. So I try on size 12 shirts. Ha! No way. So I get 14s. Nope, no dice. Still won't fit over the boobages. So I get a 16. I look like I'm wearing a fuckin mumu. Or am still pregnant. Lovely. Not the look I'm going for. I noticed that the clothing manufacturers cut the size 14s and 16s in exactly the same way that they cut their size 2s. Now, call me crazy, but the last time I looked, somebody who is a size 14 is shaped a little bit differently from somebody who is a size 2.

After shopping trips to multiple different stores, I was about ready to kill somebody. I went to Lane Bryant thinking that maybe, just maybe, they'd have something I could wear. Nope. Tried on just about every single damn shirt in the place. Most of them dwarfed me. Apparently size 14 in their world is totally different from size 14 in the rest of the world. One top actually made me look flat. ME! I have bodacious tatas. What the hell?????

On the plus side (no pun intended), Lane Bryant's clothing seemed to actually take into account the different curvature of women with a bit more meat on their bones. It just seems that I don't have enough meat on mine to justify buying their clothing. First time in my life that I was a little disappointed that I wasn't bigger, because they have some seriously cute stuff.

Thank god for Maurices. They're having a big clearance sale. Now I didn't want to go in there because it didn't look like they had very grown up clothing, but they do have some cute stuff. And, all their larger sizes fit my chest. Which is amazing. I could actually wear their stuff. And it was on clearance. And I look slightly more in style than I did yesterday because I'm not wearing clothing that's two years out of date. And I don't feel like a cow. This is a plus.

Yeah. So I kinda want to
1. Torch all the women's clothing manufacturers.
2. Start my own damn clothing line.