I hate when (in my morning groggery) I go to slap on some pit stick, and I forget that it's a new tube... Ouch... That stupid piece of sharp plastic. Yes, I do it every single freakin time, including this morning, and it's still a little raw because yesterday I used the old one right to the end & jabbed that holey, cheese grater-like plastic into my pit.
Close talkers. My neighbour is a close talker. Normal neighbours chat from over the hedge, he comes right on my lawn & stands a foot away from me & yammers on about whothehellknowswhat. I can't pay attention because I'm too busy thinking "Does this bozo even know that he does this? How the hell can he be comfortable talking this close to my face? Eeeww, his pores are nasty. Did he brush his teeth? He fataing stinks. Trim your nose hairs, dude. No bloody wonder you're 50 and single. Is it raining? NO, that was spittle! Get the HELL OUT OF HERE!"
I swear, its a Seinfeld episode going on right in my head.
|