It’s only Wednesday and my brain thinks it’s Friday. I’m sitting here writing this blog and some old dudes dressed like soldiers from the ‘Merican Revolution are on on a local TV show talking about reenacting battles. Old dudes who can’t remember what day of the week it is, are running around with muskets and bayonets. Sounds like a recipe for disaster to me. Take a page outta my book and sit your ass down on the couch and watch some Judge Judy instead. Or read this shitty blog… both pass the time and don’t kill anybody.
Like those guys on TV, I am old and I have to take pills for my oldness. I was getting my meds out of their respective bottles last night, and dropping said pills all over the fucking floor. Hubs came in and helpfully informed me that pills don’t work when you throw them on the floor. I told you he was a good doctor. He also cheerfully suggested that I buy one of those plastic pillboxes. He knows I hate those stupid boxes with the stupid compartments labeled with the stupid days of the week. What asshole invented THAT?! I want something cool like a Pez dispenser for my oldness meds. The heads of my Pez Med Dispensers (patent pending, bitches… don’t even think about stealing this awesome idea) would be The Seven Dwarfs for obvious reasons. Sleepy would be Ambien, Grumpy would be my antidepressant, that fat dwarf would be my reflux meds and so on.
Speaking of grumpy shit , me and hubs discovered water on the floor in our mudroom where the water heater and other essential heating and cooling apparatus resides. This room is also filled with junk and looks like something from that Hoarders show on TV. Hubs peered in the door to the mudroom and decided from 20 ft away and across mounds of junk, that the water must be coming from a leak in the huge and very expensive water heater. I told him to go to work and do something he is good at because this was a job for a W O M A N (sing it with me sistahs). I had to clean that whole damn room out to get the to root of this water problem. I hauled all the Christmas decorations, bins of who knows what and shelving out of there, and was left with a room that was a mouse toilet. Those little fuckers came into MY house and shit all over before being caught in glue traps or scampering back into the woods. Where is little Bunny Foo Foo when you need him? Probably taking a nap and now I probably now have the hunta virus and will be dead by Friday because of that damn bunny not doing his job. Asshole. Anyway, the water was NOT the from a leaky water heater, praise Jesus, it was the water softener which is rented and not my problem. I said Hey, Culligan Man, and he is fixing that damn leak for FREE.
The Culligan Man arrived this morning and promptly shut off my water which is bad because I can’t take a shower. I decided to work on fixing my fucking router that is blinking orange at me. The first thing that happens is that my computer asks me a god damned security question. What is up with these stupid ass security questions for every damn account you have? Do they fill a room with assholes to come up with the most obscure and ridiculous questions possible to drive you mad? As a matter of fact, I think they hire these peeps from the loony bin. One of my friends told me that she answers “clamfart” to all of those questions… why the hell didn’t *I* think of that? What celebrity do you look like? Clamfart. First street you lived on? Clamfart. What is your favorite cartoon character? Clamfart. I’m stealing that word and calling my router Clamfart. I expect at least two calls from my neighbors complaining that their kids are gonna see that dirty word. Tell your damn kids that Snow White’s nickname was Clamfart and you will live happily ever after.