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!

 

kandkkandies.com

 

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...




%d bloggers like this: