yeahimadork.com

I realize that if I want anything to happen, someone is going to have talk to this jackhole and tell him that the car alarm is a nuisance (of course, I’ll have to find a new word, because I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t know what nuisance means). The thing that I don’t understand is why no one that lives with him (and there are about fifteen people in that house) is bothered by it, and no one complains that the kids who have to get up for school are being awakened by this persistent mindfuck that is this alarm. I don’t get these people.

So I’m going to politely, and as diplomatically as possible, approach Herbie (that’s really his name) and ask him to lower the sensitivity on his alarm, so that it doesn’t go off every time the fucking wind blows.

________________________________________

Last week, I came home from work and my phone was ringing. It said “unknown caller” on my caller ID, so I ignored it and let the machine get it. It clicked on, and then I heard, “This is a MCI operator with a collect call from an inmate at Folsom state prison. To accept this call from [inmate name], press 1. To decline this charge, press 2.” The guy said his name, and it was garbled, but it sounded like he said Steve, (which is funny for reasons I can’t go into here). I didn’t pick up, but after the call disconnected, I looked at my call history, and he tried to call several times during the day.

I thought about the myriad of white trash criminals in my family (I have one who actually did do time there because he’s a thug and stabbed someone and then ran him over with a car - his mother was very proud that at one point, he was “running the whole yard!”, and then she was angry that none of his showed up for his big Prison Release Party, which was a waste, because he was back about three months later), but then I realized all the ones that are just fucking crazy enough to do something to get put in there don’t have any contact with me, and don’t (thankfully) have my phone number.

Speaking of the trashies in my family, I called my aunt last night, and she was updating me on some of my trashy relatives in Kansas and Missourri. She told me my cousin April was pregnant, and that she was seventeen. Then she told me that it wasn’t so bad, because the THIRTY YEAR OLD GUY was going to marry her, and that they’ve actually been living together SINCE SHE WAS FIFTEEN. Jesus fucking tapdancing christ, I can’t even wrap my head around that.

Then she told me about April’s older sister Daisy, who’s getting a divorce because she slept with her husband’s best friend. She’s all broken up because she doesn’t understand why her husband can’t forgive that she let his best friend nail her one night after they were all drinking and the husband passed out.

I swear to god, just when I think my family can’t get any white trashier, I hear shit like this and realize the level of trashiness in my family is infinite.

_________________________________________

People, I have found my Sister In Road Rage, and her name is Wen.

When she was driving us to our knitting meetup yesterday, I was very happy to find that there is someone else who curses and yells at other drivers just as much as I do. She also enjoys hating and making fun of other people too, which makes me just love her more and more.

And making HELLA AWESOME key lime pie doesn’t hurt, either.