Five ways to really piss off your co-workers

Nothing can ruin your day more than walking into a hostile working environment. Hostile doesn't have to mean angry, although it could. What I mean is a workplace where you feel uncomfortable or frustrated by the fuckards with whom you are forced to work because you aren't allowed to set them on fire. One day I'll get the go-ahead to explore my pyromaniac tendencies, but until such time, we all have to bear the cross of dealing with people we can't stand five fucking days a week just to collect a paycheck at a job we may or may not love. Luckily, I love my job or I'd have run screaming a long time ago...I've been forced to work with some doozies over the years. Allow me to share with you some of the attributes I cannot stand.

1. Laziness and slovenliness. The workplace is not your fucking house. You may not leave your area looking like a frat house after a kegger. I do not want to have to wade through piles of your shit to find my shit because you filtered it in instead of returning it. No one wants to see your personal crap strewn across every available space and common area. Yours is a home I'd fear entering. While I am at it, clean up after you eat, drink, or use the crapper. Crumbs, drink splatters, and paper towels and other bathroom items left behind for others to clean is not only disgusting but it's plain lazy. We are forced to share the space, I get it. What I am not forced to do is be your slave and follow behind you picking up your trail. Speaking of laziness, when I am running around with an armload of shit, and you are sitting on your ass, assume that at that moment I hate you. None of us want to see someone sitting there while we are all sweating bullets from actual exertion and work. Get the fuck up, put one foot in front of the other, and find out what you can do to help. Obviously you haven't enough to do or you wouldn't be sitting there. Allow me to make you a list of what needs to be done so you won't be quite so bored. Ass monkey!

2.  Passing off duties. Your job is NOT my job. Yes, I am a team player and have no issue pitching in wherever I am needed. However, when I know you are fully capable of completing a task because, well, you have the time and ability, and you are just choosing not to because it offends your sensibilities and you pass it off to me or one of our other co-workers...assume I hate you. When you claim that something is "not your job" or that you weren't hired to do X, Y, or Z...it's all I can do to stop myself from making a mad dash to find a box of matches and a can of gasoline to end your misery...and mine. Not every aspect of your job is going to be detailed in your contract. Many things are implied by virtue of where you work. For example, if you work with children, it may not state specifically that you are required to administer First Aid or simply apply a Band Aid within the course of your day.  But for Christ's sake, even if you only have half of a functioning brain, you can infer from the nature of your job that you will HAVE to do this at some point. Nobody should consider themselves above the most menial task. A company can't run smoothly without everyone stepping in and stepping up. Step the fuck up already!

3.  Constantly correcting.  Nobody is perfect. We all make mistakes. BUT, most of the time, the person doing the correcting or undermining is the one who is wrong. People who feel the need to constantly interject and "fix" what someone else has said are usually the most insecure motherfucks you'll ever have the displeasure of meeting. When I screw up, I am usually the first to notice it...and the first to laugh my ass off about it. It's called having a sense of humor. May I suggest you get one? Now, having said that, I don't want you to infer that I want you to mock me in any way. Engaging me in a battle of wits is one of the most fucktarded things you will ever do in your lifetime and you are far better off avoiding it at all costs. Don't come to a gun battle with a pocket knife. Teasing is one thing, and anyone who is my friend knows that I love to tease and be teased. It's harmless fun at all of our expenses and nobody gets hurt. What the correcter is doing is not teasing, it's meant to humiliate. Maybe they feel competitive and want to cut you down so they look brainy. Maybe they think you are better at your job and so, they want you to look as though you've fucked up and they came to your rescue. Maybe, just maybe, they are incompetent boobs who lack basic intelligence and are so fucking jealous that the only way they can attempt to appear smart is when they try to correct someone else. Yeah, that sounds about right.

4.  Abundant days off. Oh don't look at me like that. You hate this shit just as much as I do, possibly more. We are all entitled to take time off for illness, family obligations, school trips with our kids, and the occasional vacation. I don't take off that frequently, but that doesn't mean I am unaware of the fact that I could should I need the time. But, and here's where it goes horribly wrong, some folks think they are allowed to take off every five goddamn minutes for yet another trip, vacation, whatthefuckever. Guess what? When you take all that time off and are having the time of your life, you are leaving the rest of us behind to pick up your slack. Once in a while it's fine. We all need R & R in our busy lives. However, when your coworkers start counting how many days you take off per month and have a running tally of the year, they aren't doing it because it's fun. They are doing it because the number is so fucking large it takes a group of them to do the math. It's called a job, not a hobby, for a reason. Show a little adult responsibility and earn that fucking paycheck.

5.  Talking smack.  We all do it. Don't get all righteous with me, you know you do. Know your listener. If you have a gripe, and face it, it happens from time to time, select your victim wisely. Don't talk to one of the boss' best friends when you are mad at him. If you do, think of it as a group text. The one friend will tell the boss who will then tell the other friend. Nice work, now three people think you are a douchebag. Avoid the town crier if at all possible. If you don't know who that is, you are possibly one of the stupidest people on the planet and should probably not even be employed. Learn the lay of the land, there is always one person who can't keep their face hole closed once they have information and enjoys telling a tale or two. Sometimes it's wise to bitch to a non-work friend instead. It's definitely safer and doesn't have the potential to cost you your job. What I find the most interesting, is that much of the time, the person talking smack is the same person that everyone else talks smack about because they are the office asshole. Their story has the potential of going the furthest...likely to the entire staff before day's end, complete with editorializing. Like Ma always said, "Watch your mouth!"

Every workplace has at least one offender. Some actually offend in all five areas. But no work environment is safe, into each one an asshole must enter. Think of them as entertainment instead of the pain in the fucking ass that they actually are and your day will be so much easier to bear. Hell, gossip about them...no one likes them anyway so there's no fear of it going further than, well, all of you EXCEPT them. It's a win-win, really. These shit-for-brains provide hours of laughter if you know how to accept them for who they are and rail the fuck out of them behind their backs. You know you do anyway.  Are you friggin kidding me right now???

Six things for which social media should NOT be used

You are still doing it! We discussed this already, why must I repeat myself??? While I am painfully aware of the difference between my IQ and yours, I expected that you could retain basic information. Apparently not. The misuse and abuse of social media has once again gotten completely out of hand and I am at my wit's end. When are you going to learn that the grand majority of us simply don't give a fuck? Here's a list of what should NOT be seen on anyone's news feed.

1.  Personal To-Do Lists. Office Depot and Staples have a lovely array of notepads, notebooks, and sticky note pads for your list-making pleasure. Hell, since most of us have smartphones, we can even jot our lists directly on our phone and have alarms go off at the time things need to be done. The choices available to you are endless. I'm sure you are aware of them so why, oh why do you insist on flooding the feed with nonsense like, "Today is going to be a busy one. First, I have to drop the kids off at school. Then, it gets craaaazy. I have to go grocery shopping, pick up the dry cleaning, order a cake for little Butthead's birthday, pay bills, do laundry, vacuum, get gas and an oil change...I'm tired just thinking about it!" I can simplify that status for you..."I am a stay-at-home mom doing my fucking job today."  Wasn't that easy? Took less time to type, too, which leaves you more time to go about the many tasks of your very busy day, doesn't it? Take note of that, ass clown.

2.  Illness TMI. You know exactly what I am talking about. Unless you can be humorous about it, do not regale us with the gory details of your mucous, projectile vomiting...both color and texture, how many times you filled the bowl with liquid shit, and your various aches and pains including their specific location. Personally, I don't care if you are leaking copious amounts of bright green snot, blowing a flood out of your ass, or barfing up an entire kidney. And, I'm not being presumptuous by saying the rest of Social Media Land would prefer if you kept that information to yourself. It's one thing to bitch and moan about your sickness du jour, it's quite another to paint a fucking picture of it, too. Leave the details out...if you were really THAT sick, you wouldn't be wide awake and posting about it.

3.  Complaint center/Therapist. I realize these are two separate and distinct areas but I feel that they blend into each other. Using your status message or Twitter account to bemoan the state of the world, cry a river over current events (which likely have occurred seven states away from you and include no friends or family of yours), express disgust about your husband's friend choices, or yet another ditty about parenting a teenager is incredibly annoying to those of us reading it. If you haven't a upbeat thing to say, and you find yourself constantly posting about all that is wrong with life, seek therapy. And by therapy, I do not mean filling the feed with sob stories about how your life blows chunks, that people don't understand you, that your boss is a douchebag, and your social life is at an all-time low point. My job as a social media participant is to read, look at photos, "like" or "favorite" a few things, and catch up with friends. What it isn't, what I do not intend to do, is become your online psychotherapist. Pity parties and pick me ups are not available, don't ask.

4.  Political gripes.  We all are affected by the current administration and the decisions that are made on our behalf. Gun laws, GMOs, health care reform or lack thereof, politicians trying to rule the inside of our uteruses, and the fight for same-sex marriage. But for the love of all things holy, do you have to post every fucking article you see? Every semi-notable person's opinion on the topic? What makes you think that everyone else has an interest in your particular platform? Furthermore, perhaps you have the luxury of excess free time to read 1,000's of articles about various and assorted political bullshit arenas, but guess what? The rest of us work for a living. We have families to care for and homes to run. Unless you are running for office, save the grandstanding for when you're drunk.

5.  Selfies. Ladies, you know I am speaking to you directly. Men are generally not guilty of this crime. By men I mean over the age of 35. Those under that age, regardless of sex, are equally represented in the selfie department. Ladies over 35, let me be frank. None of you look good enough to take photos of yourself that close up. If we are being honest, even if you held your arm out REALLY far and got the whole body in, you still don't make the cut. No amount of posing, preparation and planning, jutting your tits out and arching your back like your wares are for sale to the highest bidder, or lacquered on makeup will change the fact that you are now middle-aged and should have more respect for yourself and my eyeballs. We can all see your wrinkles as clear as day, the grays popping out at your roots, and you know something else? We all know that when you take off your bra at night, your boobs just miss slapping you in the kneecaps. Let's behave like the adults we are and stop the selfie madness. Take a photo with your friends, your partner, your cat...and let someone else hold the fucking camera. Photos are memories not an homage to you. Get over yourself, shitheel.

6.  Telling your partner that you love him/her. This one we have gone over ad nauseum. How many different ways can I express this so that you'll understand? Unless you are having a long distance relationship, and even then there is the amazing invention called the telephone, there is no logical reason you NEED to tell your partner how much you adore them, their eyes, their smile, their ass in "that" pair of jeans, or that you la-la-la-love the fuck out of them ONLINE for God and everyone to see. If you live in the same state, there is no excuse for not telling them in person. If you live in the same house, and you aren't telling them in person, your relationship has a whole host of problems. Open your cakehole and say, "I love you," to their face. Sappy declarations of love and lust are the realm of the teenager. Grown-ass adults know that some things are meant for private moments when the focus is just on each other...not how many "likes" your post gets on Facebook. Because, really, isn't that why you do it? If it was meant just for the object of your desire, you'd say it TO them, and them alone. You aren't smart enough to fool the rest of us...we know it's directed at the masses. Now that you know that WE know why you do it, it's time to stop. Unless you enjoy humiliating the fuck out of yourself...

Let's bring social media back to the fun, adult Disney Land it used to be and stop making the same mistakes over and over. We all have shit to do, a sick day, a beef about something, political opinions, and someone we love. Since our focus is on our OWN shit, don't flood us with YOUR shit. Nobody cares and frankly, you are making a fool of yourself as well as alienating yourself from whatever friends you may have left. Someone like you couldn't possibly have that many, can you afford to lose any? Please end the assault on my vision. As I get older, I require my glasses more often than not, although my vanity prevents me from wearing them every time I require. Don't force me to have to wear them all the goddamn time because you have some sick need to post photos that burn my retinas beyond repair! Are you friggin kidding me right now???

Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better...

I can do anything better than you...no, you can't...yes, I can. Bitch, please. Allow me to set the record straight, I AM the standard to which you should hold yourself. One moment, I have to change my drawers, I think I peed myself laughing. What's really funny, is that what I'm about to discuss with you is not the ability to do things better. The thing that struck me today, was that there are people who actually compete with your angst. While it is completely beyond my realm of thinking, the desire to have worse problems than someone else, there are those who like to believe that their lot in life is far more grim. One could only assume that they thrive on the pity of others, which is one of the most pathetic personality traits I can imagine. Keeping up with the Joneses is unpalatable enough, but at least it's a competition for greatness...not for distance down the fucking toilet.

The competition seems to fall under certain categories, and should there be more, bring them to my attention so I can rail the fuck out of those people, too.

1. Ailments and illnesses. We've all got 'em, ass clown. But, according to the competitive friend, theirs are far worse. If you have a headache, they have a debilitating migraine. If you have a migraine, they've had one for a week, complete with light and sound sensitivity and projectile vomiting. You have a stomachache? Ha! They've been doubled over, shitting themselves blind for days now...it's shocking they are standing there talking to you instead of riding the porcelain train. Don't even bother to mention your cold, flu, or sinus infection. Oh Lordy, they had that last week, and it's still going strong today. They've already been to Urgent Care and the ER twice, been hooked up to IV antibiotics and still feel like shit. Next time they ask you how you feel, just say, "Fine, thanks." Save yourself the hassle of whine with no cheese.

2.  Kids, school, and homework. Anyone with school-age kids knows the plight of the mom...the schedules, the activities, the fighting, the ridiculous amounts of homework and parent-assistance-required projects. We've all been there, battled through it, and survived. Some of us are further along in the process. Mine is a senior in high school, so I've been down the road and back a few dozen times. She danced, was on a gymnastics team, had friends, homework, projects, and the attitude of a young girl who could only be my child. So, when you tell me a story about your younger child's 4 hours of homework per night on top of his sports schedule, I can empathize with you and tell you that having been in your shoes, I know it will get better. Not Competitive Connie. She has to tell you that since her child is 4 years older than yours, her plight is far worse...and wait until your child is in middle school, high school, college, the fucking military. We get it. You've gone through it already. Your battle scars are quite evident, especially since you expose us to them every time we even mention children. If parenting was that hard, nobody would do it...be realistic, friggin wuss.

3.  Family and in-laws. Another thing we all have, yet somehow yours is so much worse. This is where I'd beg to differ without going into grotesque detail. That fact notwithstanding, most people have doozies in their family tree, whether by blood or by marriage. Skeletons, psychos, alcoholics, losers, assholes...there's at least one in each family tree, usually more. If I say that I'm irritated because my brother-in-law forgot yet another birthday, you don't need to one-up me by telling me about how yours hasn't remembered a birthday, Christmas, holiday, since you've met and he also cheats on his wife. While the scandal may be interesting on another day, right now, I've just told you something that is bothering ME. That means the conversation not only isn't about you, but you aren't required to beat me at my own life. Like I said before, you couldn't anyway, but that isn't the point. Commiserating is fun when you have idiots that are similar, but there's no need to out-asshole someone.

4.  Periods/Cramps/Flow.  This one makes me laugh. I am fully aware that there are other women in my perimenopausal boat, with a period more like a violent crime scene than a skip through a field of flowers, wearing white like the tampon commercials would have you believe. But, in all honesty, from what I've heard others tell me, they don't even come close to what I go through once or twice a month. "Oooh, I use SUPER tampons and I feel like I change it every hour." Um, ok. I wear ULTRA with a gigantic pee pee pad and sometimes have to change every 20 minutes. Ultra tampons are like paper towel rolls with a rope attached for easy removal. You don't know heavy flow till you've soaked through one of those 3 times in an hour. But, I listen and empathize because, well, what can I do? Rip one out and splash them with it for emphasis? Perhaps it's impatience on my part, but I really don't want to hear about your rough period unless it was accompanied by gut-wrenching cramps and vomiting. I am not without sympathy, but I hate being one-upped in this arena because, fuck it, I'm the goddamn Queen.

Saturday Night Live's Kristen Wiig, does a character named, Penelope, who is in constant competition with anyone that speaks to her. This Penelope Compilation  sums her up quite well. At least she wants to one up people to beat them at their accomplishments, not their failures, flaws, and fuck-ups. Folks who do that rub my ass so far in the wrong direction. It's about time we speak up and tell them that life is not a giant game with one winner and millions of losers. We are allowed to own our own misery and speak about it without fear that the person to whom we speak will not only NOT comfort us, but they will challenge us to a sadness duel. He who cries the biggest bucket of tears wins. Fucktard. Nobody needs that kind of friend. Are you friggin kidding me right now???

Dear Abercrombie and Fitch...you suck BALLS!

This is an open letter to the lovely folks at Abercombie and Fitch, addressing their opinion of the "unattractive" and "fat" people in the world.

Dear Abercrombie and Fitch, 

I am one of the "fat" people you don't want wearing your clothing. You mentioned that you don't want people who wear size LARGE to wear your brand. Sometimes I do wear a L in certain items, depending on the cut and how loosely or form-fitting I'd like it be. The thing is, I'm not fat. What I am is a healthy, curvy, adult woman who happens to shaped like a real woman, not a 13 year old boy. The anger I feel is not for myself, I have no desire to wear the shitty product you put out for exorbitant prices. My fury is for my child and the female children of other mothers who have told their little girls that they are beautiful and shapely and perfect exactly as they are. And they are ALL beautiful.
For years, when my daughter wanted to shop at your store, I'd brave the ferocious whore-bath of stench to which you forced shoppers to enter and wait around while she perused your offerings. We'd often laugh together as she'd hold up a SMALL shirt to her leg and tell me it wouldn't even fit there. Chuckling over exactly what female could cram her boobs into any of the tops you sell, we'd make our way over to the jeans which never seemed to fit correctly because, that's right, the rear portion had absolutely no room for an actual ass. Again faced with something clearly made for young boys, because certainly you didn't expect anyone who had gone through puberty to squeeze into it.
Even more laughable are your bathing suits. Do you really think the L bikini tops can fit on someone's real live boobs? My own child couldn't get both cups on one of hers. But when you look at the beanpole models you use for your clothing line, it's easy to see who you are marketing to...very, very tall, flat-assed, super-skinny GIRLS, with no curves, and no boobs. Maybe you ARE marketing to teenage boys who happen to cross-dress? There's nothing wrong with that, but own it, for Christ's sake! Not everyone on the block is 5'11" and 105lbs, nor should they be. It's fucking unhealthy and you are asking girls to seek to attain an impossible and unrealistic version of beauty. 
Do you really believe that someone can't be a size LARGE and be beautiful? Are tits and ass ugly? Do curves fly in the face of what your brand represents? Has it ever occurred to to you that one of the most beautiful women to have ever graced this planet, Marilyn Monroe, would have been a size...GASP...12 by today's standards? That is "plus sized" in your world, isn't it? Marilyn the Fattie. There's a reason Pin-Up Girls are making a huge comeback. Men and women alike believe that curves are sexy, lush, and yes, attractive. This is not to say that thin is not beautiful in its own right. What I am saying is that people were created in all shapes and sizes, tall and short, fat and thin, and all varieties in between. We run the gamut. And we are ALL fucking gorgeous. 
Some of my friends are gathering their previously purchased A & F clothing and handing them over to the first needy person they see. Anyone who owns your crap should do the same. I do not want to be associated with a brand that doesn't embrace everyone. A brand that actually pointedly excludes a huge section of the population and insults them, to boot. Fuck you, Abercrombie and Fitch. Fuck your marketing department and their derogatory opinion of anyone over a size zero. Fuck your ill-fitting and poorly constructed clothing, made for people shaped like stick figures instead of human beings. Fuck your representatives for actually coming out and saying, “Beauty is everything,  that’s why we hire good-looking people in our stores. Because good-looking people attract other good-looking people, and we want to market to cool, good-looking people. We don’t market to anyone other than that,” Jeffries continued. Fuck you for saying that people who don't fit your mold are uncool and therefore, unpopular. Do you think any of my friends or I will give you another dime, ever again? Are you friggin kidding me right now???

Sincerely,

A beautiful, curvy, and healthy woman who chooses to wear brands that accentuate her AWESOMENESS!

Five Male Habits That Make Women Bat-Shit Crazy

Men are an interesting breed, to say the very least. We love them to death and can't imagine our lives without them but, holy fuck, some of the things they do can drive you to chug your favorite wine straight from the bottle. Sometimes you want to sit down with their mothers and ask them if these habits were tolerated when they had possession of the little darlings or are these brand new behaviors they reserve just for us?  Ladies, I want you to realize that their moms have very selective memories when it comes to their baby boys, so don't bother having that discussion. Guys, pay attention to what I have to say next. These irritating as fuck things you do aren't cute, they aren't funny, and you'd be oh so much more appealing if you'd just stop!

1.  Blissful unawareness of household chores: God forbid you actually hauled the vacuum out and passed it over the carpet once in a while, yet you expect clean underwear in your dresser drawer to be readily available. Not all the chores are meant to be done by one person while the other reaps the rewards, unless you have a cleaning person. Then I'd have to launch into my rant about your lazy ass and sense of entitlement. Since that isn't the case, let's talk about why the fuck you can't take a rag and wipe a dirty surface, notice crumbs on the counter, remove the three inch layer of dust forming on every surface in the living room, or pick up something that fell on the floor rather than stepping OVER it. I can't imagine you enjoy living in a shithole, relishing the filth and squalor. I'd like to believe you like a little cleanliness, as well. The belief that housework is a woman's job went out with the horse and carriage. If we work outside of the home, then we are just as entitled to come home and pop open a beer and sit on the couch. However, nothing would get done and we'd have to stay up late doing laundry and scrubbing toilets. This is complete bullshit. Lend a helping hand once in fucking blue.

2.  Light switch Nazi-ism:  I know I don't live with the only one. How many of you have been in a room doing something that required light only to have your male counterpart stride by and flip the fucking light switch off? I'm starting to think that men could live in total darkness. Personally, I'd be happy with candle light but then I wouldn't be allowed to leave the room with a candle lit, God forbid, I may burn the house down with a Bath and Body Works gigantic glass-enclosed candle flickering on the coffee table. But the light switch thing makes me nuts...if it's not being flicked off, I'm being told to turn it off before I've even contemplated leaving the room...because I'm "sucking the money right out of his wallet." Light was invented so we don't have to bump into shit and can actually see the task in front of us. I'm not slicing a finger off in the kitchen to save a dime.

3.  Not listening/easily distracted:  Perimenopause gives you a foggy mind and often I notice myself needing things repeated, so I do understand...to a point. But to feel as though you have to repeat everything because the first time was just a rehearsal can be frustrating as fuck. Not that everything I have to say is life-changing, but if I am opening my mouth to tell you something, pay attention from the first word, don't check in during the final three and be totally unaware of the conversation topic. What if your partner ignored you when you were trying to tell her you were ill and required an aspirin? Or if she didn't listen when you asked for the remote??? Speaking of the remote, when you are watching TV and we ask a question, pull your head out of your ass and listen. It's just a show and with DVR and all the technological bullshit all our TVs come equipped with these days, you can afford to avert your gaze from the tube and make eye contact and have a conversation.

4.  Channel surfing:  To continue my last thought about your love affair with the TV, explain to me why men are programmed to flip through the channels at speeds where any normal person wouldn't be able to discern which show was actually on. You aren't really watching anything if you can't keep one channel on for longer than five minutes. Of course, this doesn't even scratch the surface of why it's frustrating. If we are watching TV with you, chances are we are invested in the first show that was on and want to continue viewing that. Not that we can't multi-task, we are born to focus on multiple things at once and do so successfully. The thing is, we don't want to have to do it when we are relaxing. That's the point of it, to unwind and let go of the other 40,000 things running through our busy minds.  Seeing the TV screen jump from show to show is the furthest from relaxing and a total piss-off if the first show is one of "our shows" and we actually sat down to watch. Put the fucking remote down.

5.  Bodily functions and eruptions:  Why oh why do men find farting so funny? At some point during their upbringing they learned that if they fart, other boys will laugh and therefore like them. So, as adults, they still sport fart, competing with others for sound quality, loudness, and aroma. Seriously?!?! Guys, this is NOT attractive in the least, let me assure you. Certain activities are meant for the bathroom, that being at the forefront. While I'm at it, let me address nose picking. Men, do you really believe that if you are in your car we can't see you? It's a vehicle, not an invisibility cloak. When I am stopped at a red light and the dude next to me is digging for gold, I make sure he knows that I know.  If you want to gross me out, I'll embarrass your ass without blinking an eye. What is amazing, is some men aren't embarrassed. I know we all have snot, and those of us with allergies know that fact even better. Tissues were invented for your excess boogers, not your fingers. Pick in private, blow in public. Sage advice.

While I'm certain many of you can chime in with more annoying habits, these are the ones that I find to be the worst. I'm not asking for much when I request that you take these five into consideration when dealing with a female you want to keep in your life. We are all human and can be incredibly irritating, I know I can. But, guys, try to be less testosterone-y and more person-y once in a while. Who knows, you may even get a little more something-something out of your efforts. I promise you won't lose your membership in the "manly men's club" if you do.  Are you friggin kidding me right now???

Why Perimenopause Sucks Moldy Balls

If you haven't begun to experience the joy that is perimenopause, stop and ask yourself if you have a strong enough stomach to read further. This discussion is not for the faint of heart. Women go through a physical and emotional rollercoaster during this period in their lives and can barely deal with the ups and downs. Men let this be your final warning, unless you've fully embraced your feminine side and have balls of steel, close your laptop and turn on the boob tube.

1. Hormonally-driven mood swings. If you think PMS is scary, wait until you have what feels like an out-of-body experience where you are watching yourself morph into Mommie Dearest holding a chainsaw and can't do anything to stop it. I've gone into rages that make Chef Gordon Ramsay look like Pollyanna and been unable to do anything but board the psycho train till the ride was over. It's a bad movie gone horribly wrong except you can't walk out or change the channel. Fits of anger are only the icing on the estrogen-flavored cake. Women going through perimenopause cry at the drop of a hat. That's right, so steer clear, have a box of tissues on hand, and gather more patience than you need in dealing with a toddler. And you thought people irritated the fuck out of me because I'm intolerant. Welcome to raging midlife hormones...the harshest mistress known to mankind.

2. Weight gain. Some of it is hormonal and much of it is feeling like you no longer give a shit as your body starts to turn on you. Being unable to control your emotions is bad enough, but when your body bloats at will and begins growing hair in very unwanted places...food seems like a fine place to turn for a little comfort. Of course, your ever-slowing metabolism doesn't help the situation, allowing the fat to attach itself to your inner thighs and stomach at lightning speed causing the wiggle in your walk to be less than attractive. This milkshake is bringing other fatties to the yard...in search of ice cream and other full-fat dairy treats.

3. Forgetfulness and fog brain.  I used to have a photographic memory, school was a breeze and memorizing lines for plays took all of a single read-through. I was organized and meticulous with paperwork, dates, numbers, and details. Ask me now where I left my glasses, parked the car, or if I bought peanut butter and I'll not have a fucking clue. Aligning my thoughts and formulating clear responses to daily life activities have become some of the greatest challenges I face. They say this will pass and right after menopause women experience greater clarity...I'll believe it when it happens to me. Until then, I'll just try to function in the real world as Ten Second Tom for a bit longer.

4. The Blood Flood: Aside from having uterine residents, otherwise known as fibroids, perimenopause has transformed my former "like clockwork" period, which used to last three days and require slender regular tampons or a panty liner into something that resembles a crime scene on Dexter and lasts for up to 11 days. Have I mentioned it can come back? Not in 28-33 days...nope, this bitch can return every two weeks when she feels like it. One summer I had my period for almost two fucking months. I used to skip the summers. The frequency is enough to drive the sane stark raving mad, I can attest to that. But what really gets me is having to use ultra tampons and pads meant for people with urinary incontinence, or as my friends and I refer to them, "pee pee pads" in order to function during the day or sleep through the night. You don't know flooding until you have felt something pouring out of your body like a faucet on high and accompanied by giant, livery chunks of uterine matter. Thank you, perimenopause for turning a normal monthly bodily function into a fucking nightmare.

5.  HOT FLASHES.  'Nuff said.

6.  It can last up to ten years. Yes, you read correctly, up to TEN FUCKING YEARS. That's longer than some marriages. I can't commit to a goddamn phone for that long...having recently dumped my six year love affair with the iPhone and switching over to a Samsung Galaxy S4...and I LOVED my iPhone. Why the hell would I want this shit in my life for a decade? Does Mother Nature think I enjoy being hormonally bipolar? Maybe she believes that ignorance is bliss so the forgetfulness is actually a blessing in disguise? Or perhaps she is a cruel bitch who wants me to suffer for the sins of other women who don't live up to her standard? I do not want to have to pay for the cuntiness of the rest of the gold digging, phony, nasty, slutty, trashy pieces of shit in the world. Yet, here I am, the poster child for perimenopause, sneering right back at her...alternately screaming and crying because, hell, I can't get my shit together anymore.

Ladies, realize that you will be hit by this shitstorm one day, it's unavoidable. Don't try to run, and don't bother hiding. It will find you. My suggestion to you is start stocking up on wine, chocolate, yoga pants, sticky notes, tampons, Xanax, and Kleenex. Warn your family now. Forewarned is forearmed. Men, all I can say is thank your lucky stars all that will happen to you is low-hanging dog balls and extra ear hair. As for the fact that you have to live with us during this especially exciting decade, consider it payment for all the crap we've dealt with over the years..two words: Dutch Oven. Be grateful that murder holds such a stiff penalty because we are always a hair's breath away from committing heinous acts of malice...then crying about it and forgetting it ever happened in a few minutes. Do I want pity? Hell no! I am woman, hear me roar! Are you friggin kidding me right now???

This bitch is still alive and kicking...for an update, have a look at Why Perimenopause Still Sucks Moldy Balls...Four Years Later

For answers to men's questions about perimenopause:
Smart Answers to Dumb Questions About Perimenopause

Five Reasons Teenagers are Annoying as Hell...

Teenagers are one of the most annoying breeds of human, yet after living with one for quite some time now, I still think they are worthy of being loved. This sounds counterintuitive based on the facts I will present to you, but when yours is on the verge of heading to college and the thought of them not being around every day causes you to feel like you are having a daily heart attack, you'll understand my position.

1.  Using the question inflection at the end of every sentence. Praise the baby Jesus, my child has never done this, and had she, I'd have beaten it out of her. Living in Northern California, and in particular, the Bay Area, I thought this fucktarded way of speaking was confined to my neck of the woods. Horrified, I've discovered that it exists all over the damn country. Teenagers everywhere asking questions that aren't actually fucking questions. I'm not sure why this is done. Could be a lack of confidence, could be a self esteem issue. More likely it's simply a lack of intelligence and so like sheep, once they've heard one asswipe teenager talk that way, they follow blindly. My response to this inflection is always the same, "Are you asking or telling?" Believe it or not, this throws a grand majority of them for a loop. Our future appears to be more grim than initially thought.

2.  Eye rolling and huffing.  Nothing says disrespect quite like when your child rolls her eyes all the way in the back of her head and exhales loudly and forcefully after you've asked her to do something or given her what you thought was excellent advice or done something she finds embarrassing. I'm sure there are 100 other reasons they do it, but those jumped into my head with lightning speed. I like to refer to this behavior as a silent "fuck you" because, really, that's what it is. This probably has something to do with the belief that they are superior to us because we are old and ooze dumbfuckedness. Sometimes I wonder if I'll remember to breathe given how utterly stupid I have become in my advanced age. Someone should keep an eye on me, it's supposed to rain next week and I fear I may drown.

3.  SELFISHNESS. This is in all caps because it's one issue that sticks in my fucking craw. Personally, I've not raised my child to be selfish and inconsiderate. This doesn't prevent her from lapsing into teenage mode and behaving like I should drop everything because she needs some trivial nonsense. Of course, to her, it's not trivial at all...it's earth-shattering and time-sensitive. Most kids her age are exactly the same, having no regard for anyone but themselves and their needs...which are pressing, goddamn it, so step up and do something now! Believing that the world revolves around you is no longer a phenomenon reserved for toddlers, these days, teenagers have made it their own. This reminds me of one of my favorite Toby Keith songs I Wanna Talk About Me.  We spend a good portion of our lives as parents putting our children's needs ahead of our own, just once, I'd like to be prioritized. Is that too much to ask, or am I being...GASP...selfish???

4.  Delusions of grandeur. Teenagers are self-described geniuses on all possible topics. If there's something you feel you know anything about, stand corrected now...they know more, they know it better than you. Hell, they've probably invented it! You just don't understand, you aren't a kid now, things are different. Really, how? Do kids NOT do drugs today? Do they NOT have sex? Do they not have issues with school, bullies, teachers, friends, classes, body image? What the fuck am I missing? I'm pretty sure I graduated high school and lived the life of a typical teenager. Yet, if you ask my own kid and I'm sure others her age, I haven't the foggiest fucking clue what they are going through. Once again, I'm a window licking dipwad.  Forget about trying to talk to them about current events. Their opinions are the only right ones and your point of view is re-DONK-ulous. Own your stupid, accept your many flaws, and move forward.

5.  Feeling grown up and acting like a child. Why should I have to ask to go out, I have a car and a license so I can do what I want. Um, because you aren't an adult and live under my roof and answer to ME. Why do I need a curfew if you know where I am and I have a cell phone you can contact at any time? Perhaps because nothing good or safe happens after midnight. Why do I have to report to you my every move and destination? I am your mother and having created you inside my fucking body gives me the right to know everything you do. everywhere you go, and everyone with whom you spend time. So, if you truly are such a grown up, then you won't mind washing the dishes, doing the grocery shopping, getting the oil changed in that car you are allowed to drive, keeping your room looking like a room and not a crime scene, and paying your own phone bill, right? Why the fuck not? If you can't act like an adult ALL the time, then don't expect to be treated like one when it suits you.

Yet, all that being said and all of it being the gospel truth, I still love my teenage daughter to death. Despite all those incredibly annoying habits and behaviors, she is still my whole world and I happen to think she is pretty fucking awesome. And that's not because she's mine and therefore would HAVE to be amazing, she is amazing all of her own doing. She does things that I wouldn't and has her own perspective on life that causes me to pause and try to see things through her eyes. While she may have trouble making decisions and push all my buttons because she doesn't only know them, she's created at least half of them, she still has a big heart when it really matters...even if she prefers to hide it most of the time. I'm damn proud of this kid and it won't be the same, annoying crap and all, when she heads off to the next chapter in her life this fall. Are you friggin kidding me right now???