Since you enjoyed it last time: B*TCHFest!!

     

For you NEW KIDS, HERE ARE THE RULES: THE RULES: "B*TCHFest"  is provided as a public service to those of us who have gripes and grievances but who (whom?), for whatever reason, lack a regular forum in which to air them. You are welcome to voice any problems - large or small, important, mundane or ridiculous -  that currently have your panties wadded, your shorts frosted and your gears ground. Don't hold them in and risk future medical issues, wrinkles and/or those pesky gray hairs.

ANY and ALL issues that are plaguing you are open for you to voice; there are no "sacred cows." They say that "feelings aren't facts", so if you're feeling it, it's legit to you. NO ONE is allowed to flame a poster for something he or she writes, however commiseration is not only welcomed but encouraged. Please, no personal attacks against other OH members (at least, not by name) and PLEEZ - NO SURGERY WARS!

I'll start you off with a few gripes of mine, and you all can join in at any time! No limits - come back as many times as you like!

WARNING! Rated TV-MA. Adult content ahead! Posts may (and probably will) contain "adult" content and language. I know that MINE will!


I'm not in a truly foul mood today, so that's good. But I have a couple of things I can grouse about. 

Okay, here we go! Seatbelts fastened, everyone?

- The people across the street. My god, I may have to kill them. Let's start with the fact that it looks like a ghetto over there, with them parking a raggedy old trailer that they never use, and old fire department box truck, and their SUVs in the damned yard and have a giant pile of garbage, trash, who-knows-what back there. too. BTW - it's a small lot, like ours: a tenth of an acre. It's not like they've got a lot of space.

They've got a passel of kids they never watch: the oldest one, who's about 11, watches over the rest of them, and I've seen the littlest one (about 2) start walking into the street, unobserved, more than once. I don't have kids, I don't want kids and I don't want to have to keep an eye on THEIRS to insure that they don't get mowed down in the street like squirrels.

The elders run some kind of sidewalk chicken-selling business (somewhere else, not at the house.) But they cook the goddamned chicken in the backyard - hello, health department? And they cook the **** until about 2 in the morning. I love chicken. I love the smell of chicken, at least I did until the stink of it forcibly shoved up my nostrils 20 hours a day got to me. And with the humidity lately, the smoke from all that isn't going anywhere and it's making breathing difficult. See below. I hate them.

- I am in a stage of feeling like crap all the time. I had my damned surgery and lost weight so I WOULDN'T feel poorly. But I've been having a lot of (seemingly) unrelated medical issues that aren't going away - trouble breathing being chief among them. I HAVE been to the doctor for some tests and waiting for those results. In the meantime, I'd love to go to the gym but I'm scared to do it because I feel so crappy and just doing anything at all is a chore. Bleck.

- Dear cellphone: you are such an integral part of my life, and I treat you with care and respect so can you please tell me why you won't hold a charge for more than 24 hours? I don't even USE you all the much (by comparison to the rest of society.)

- I'm almost 52. Can we stop with the ******g ACNE??? My face is breaking out like I'm a teenager again!

Start Whine -

*My **** HURTS.  My gut pain, that I've had in various ways since 12/2010, is running in high gear.  I don't get to the GI until August 2nd, and I am afraid I will end up wussing out to the ER.  Last time I did this, (back in January), I pushed and pushed until I got exploratory surgery and no diagnosis.  I just want it to GO away.  

*Long story short > I have a place to live -- I qualified for an apartment finally (don't ask -- it's all in the blog) > but I don't have the motivation to dig up my belongings and start preparing to move.  I don't want to, damn it.  I've never ever lived "alone --" and moving out is like ripping my LEG OFF.  I have to buy furniture, get boxes, everything.  I have nothing.  

/End Whine.

They announced my job today, so I jumped up and started packing my office up!!

My main gripe is that I have to work another 6 weeks before I am out of here for good.  That's right, I get to spend the rest of my life on the beach.  It's such a hardship, I can hardly stand it.  Not the beach part, but working another 6 weeks.  I cross my day off as soon as I get into work and Fridays are nice because I get to cross of 3 days!!!

Other than that, it is my husband's medication that makes him even more *****ier than he already is.

**** you and your beach house living YOU ****

 LMAO!! Wow, Pumpkin, how do you really feel?

You should have never given her permission to unleash her potty mouth.

That's it, I am NOT coming to your beach house to visit you.

You can talk dirty all you want at the beach house.  In fact, I demand that you do.  It's that kind of place.

That sounds like my kind of beach house vacation, a bunch of dirty mouthed gals.. is there a pool boy & margaritas too??

My How's this for a couple of pool boys? 

Margaritas, yes, and bloody marys and rum and coke and........