Perpetually Peeved

Wednesday “What the…?”

Another day, another “what the…?”       

1.  What the… are you selling?      

It’s that time again, folks.  Picture day at school.  How will I spend my $150 this year?  Step 1) pick a pose; step 2) pick a background color; step 3) pick options.  Options?  Well, this is new.  Add a CD?  What for?  I’ll just get an 8×10 and scan it.  Add the kid’s name to the wallets?  Sure, why not.  I get so many wallets I start handing them out to strangers.  They’ll need to know her name.  Add retouching?  Back up…

 Yes, folks, for just $12, you can buy your kid some false self-esteem.  The photo retouching applies to the yearbook picture as well.  WTF You Can Turn Molly Ringwald Into Angie Everheart, But Anthony Michael Hall is Shit Out of Luck? 

2.  What the…  are you wearing?   

 How can you tell if your skirt is too short?  Simple.  If it’s wider than it is long, it’s too short.  WTF Store Did You Buy This Pink Velour Atrocity From Anyway?

3.  What the… is that?      

Apparently, high school football games are a great excuse to let your children run rampant and torture other, more responsible parents who are stupid enough to actually watch their own children.  Biggie was cheering at the homecoming game and awesome mom that I am, I got a front row seat.  Well, almost a front row seat.  I would have been able to see if every bratchild in the arena was not standing directly in front of me.  I kindly asked them to sit the feck down at least three times.  Finally, when they ran to concession stand, I snuck up and stole the first row.  I stood up and leaned forward to get some shots of Biggie, sat down, then stood up again to get some more shots.  Something felt weird.  Something felt weird on my butt, to be more precise.  What could it be, you ask…  Hmm… it feels an awful lot like a saliva-covered sour straw.  Just as I was thinking, “No, you’re being paranoid, Peeved,” a fit of giggles and some “she did it,” “no she did it” erupted from the bleachers behind me.  WTF Would I Have Given to be Able to Discipline Those Children Myself at That Moment!


4. What the… kind of backwater town are you from?      


Yes, down in the South we spell phonetically.  Yes, down in the South, that IS spelled phonetically.

If you’ve already become a friend of Perpetually Peeved on Facebook, you’ve seen this photo.  If you haven’t, WTF Are You Waiting For?

 5.  What the… is wrong with you?   

 This week was a great week for material from third parties.  Here is an actual email I received from a good friend:

From:  IWanna Gag

To: Peeved

Subject: If I wrote a blog and I don’t

Message:  I would write about the woman in the bathroom at work who continued her conversation with me while she pooped.  Loudly.  She was not deterred and she would not let me go without more questions which she had to shout out to be heard over the pooping sounds.

WTF Ms. Shit Coming Out Both Ends?


In other news, a friend was at the airport waiting for a flight when she noticed a gentleman “picking a winner.”  Disgusted, she decided to stare at him, assuming the attention would make him abandon his digging session.  No such luck.  Not only did the guy keep digging, he got himself a good one.  A nice, gooey, sinus infection looking booger.  Don’t worry – he didn’t eat it.  At least not at first.  First, he rubbed it all over his lips, like mucus chapstick.  Then, he licked it off slowly.  That’ll teach her to stare.  WTF Mr. Salty?

Not that I'd know anything about that...


19 Comments so far
Leave a comment

A woman chatting while pooping….. boy, I bet she is a real keeper! 🙂

Comment by TheIdiotSpeaketh

No kidding. The bathroom is a definite “No Talking Zone.” Even my mother knows that! 😉

Comment by perpetuallypeeved

Spelling is up for grabs in the south. When hubby and I lived in N’awlins, we had to wrap our things to move back North. We hired a few packers to help us with the job.

When hubby and I arrived back north, we came to one pile that had us stumped. It was labeled : Mirows.

What the hell are “mirows,” we wondered. “I don’t remember buying any mirrors,” hubby exclaimed while I unwrapped and unwrapped and unwrapped.

Finally, we found it. Two big ass MIRRORS that had been packed back to back in mounds of bubble wrap.

I wish I had ben “prepaerd” for the mirows. They wuz broken.


Comment by Renée A. Schuls-Jacobson

Funny, if I was spelling if phoenetically it would have said, MIRRAS. 🙂 You should have seen the looks I got when I went to the Target down here and asked where the drawer pulls where. I got: “Huh? What’s a DRAWPUL?”

Comment by perpetuallypeeved

i really wish i hadn’t read that last one. i think i may be sick.

Comment by katie o.

I may have gagged a few times writing it. BLECH

Comment by perpetuallypeeved

The talkin lady in the poopin stall? Well do you know that story about President Lyndon Johnson and the poopin stall in the White House? Those eastern establishment intellectuals and those Kennedy loving New Enland “look down their nosers” had such contempt for his primitive Texas roots that the way he got even was to make them escort him into the poop stall and listen to his directives as he lettem rip. That sure put things on an equal par, eh? How do I know? I had a job refilling the toilet paper dispensers at the White House. The president was partial to the powder blue colored paper. Well WTF. It was better than that other job I had at the circus parades. Behind the elephants. By the way, didn’t you use that picture of you at the restaurant in an earlier post? Sheesh, talk about a “low budget” blog. I send ya some film, OK?

Comment by carldagostino

D’Ag – I would love nothing more than a CD original drawing of me picking my nose. 🙂

Comment by perpetuallypeeved

I know you hate when people say this, but I actually think I puked in my mouth a little at the booger story. I would rather listen to poop lady than witness mucus chapstick. Everybody poops (yes, not everyone does it with a captive audience), but no one should ever do what airport guy did. Ever.

Comment by Amy

No, Amy, I’m right there with you. Sometimes it’s appropriate to say. This would be one of those times.

Comment by perpetuallypeeved

I remember a lot of my friends having these weird soft looking glamour shot graduation photos where all of their blemishes had been removed. It seemed dishonest and I went to SEARS which, at the time, didn’t have that option. I wasn’t looking particular great in my photos but, damn it, they were honest pictures.

Oh that last one was epic and gross. I see adults eating boogers far too often. I’m going to invent a special privacy hat that lets you do it without grossing the rest of the world out because I’m sick of seeing it.

Comment by Posky

And you know what else? I’m going to be a millionaire.

Comment by Posky

A billionaire, even.

Comment by perpetuallypeeved

Thank you, you offically just turned my stomach and I have small children! I love # 1! Love the WTF WED!

Comment by apieceofthepiehole

Thank you! I love my POTPH too. 🙂

Comment by perpetuallypeeved

Oh dear god, someone talking while shitting. I hope your friend held her breath! The only time that would be friggin exceptable is if you are in a friggin hole 700m underground with 32 other miners!!!!

Comment by frigginloon

No shit. ha ha, I just crack myself up.

Comment by perpetuallypeeved

ghost ride that whip

Comment by car rims

best spam ever…

Comment by perpetuallypeeved

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