Perpetually Peeved

Mission: Accomplished




TO:           Special Torture Agent II, Code Name: Sister 

FROM:     Bureau of Familial Torture 

RE:            Mission #753, Project Ego Destruction, Target: Perpetually Peeved 


Special Agent Sister, your new mission is to completely crush the ego of Target.  Advanced weaponry will be provided, including but not limited to: Suburban Mall, Florescent Lighting, Rude Salespeople, and Honda Pilot.  Please be advised that Target is armed and dangerous.  Be prepared for: Biting Sarcasm, Rolling Eyeballs of Exasperation and the usually lethal Laser Beam Look of Death.  As Target’s sister, you are the only one with the qualifications to complete this mission. You are her sister, she must love you even if she would like to pop the auto locks and physically eject you from the Honda Pilot.  

May the (familial torture) force be with you.  This message will self-destruct in 5…4…3…2… 


Photo from:

In preparation of our vacation together (yeah, I’m SURE that won’t end up in a post), my sister and I have been going on some shopping sprees. 

Overheard in the dressing room at store #1: 

PERPETUALLY PEEVED (PP): I need some shorts.  I have none that fit me. 

SECRET AGENT SISTER (SAS):  You need to lay out.  I can’t wear shorts, look, I’m getting varicose veins. 

PP:  Yeah, well I turned around in the mirror the other day and look… cellulite. 

SAS: That’s not cellulite.  Tell me that’s not cellulite.  If that’s cellulite, then I’m covered in it. 

PP:  Oh, yeah, it’s cellulite.  When the *&@! did that happen? 

Overheard in the dressing room at store #2: 

SAS: You know what?  That’s not cellulite. 

PP: What do you mean? 

SAS: On your legs.  You and I do not have cellulite.  I googled it. 

PP: You googled it? 

SAS:  Yes.  It’s not cellulite.  Cellulite is when it looks all cottage-cheesy. 

PP: It’s cellulite…  I can’t believe you googled it and looked at pictures. 

Overheard in the car after leaving store #3: 

PP:  I can’t believe I just spent $50 on bras.  I needed them both, right? 

SAS:  Yes, and they are usually $50 each – so you got a good deal.  You are just going to have to accept the fact that you need to spend that much on bras. 

PP: It’s a lot though – did they really look that good? 

SAS: Yes!  You need them.  Just look at it this way, it’s your lot in life.  It’s the dues you have to pay for being blessed with big boobs.  Think about the membership dues of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee – they spend a fortune trying to make theirs look like yours.  You have to spend a fortune to fix yours so they don’t make you look heavy. 

PP: Really?  Membership dues to the Itty Bitty Titty Committee? 

SAS: Yes.  Shut Up.  What I’m saying is, it’s your lot in life. 

PP: Great.  So I just have to have boobs that are each the size of my head that I need to spend $200 a year on so they don’t droop down and make me look like I’m about to give birth to twins.  Great fecking lot.  Stop at Target on the way home so I can pick up some Thank You cards for the life lot distributors. 

SAS: Well, you could have to dye your hair. Do you know how much I spend on hair dye? 

PP:  Yes, I do.  Because inherited the same premature grays from mommy. I have to dye my hair every month too, remember? 

SAS:  Oh. Yeah. Bad example. 

[contemplative silence] 

SAS: You know what? 

PP: No, what? 

SAS: I was serious before.  That’s not cellulite on our legs. 

PP: Yes, it is.  You are just in denial. 

SAS: No, really.  It’s not.  It’s just a little chubba. 

PP: So, what you’re telling me is that I don’t have cellulite, but I’m fat. 

SAS: No!  What I’m saying is that you don’t have cellulite, it’s just a little chubba. 

[Rolling Eyeballs of Exasperation] 

SAS:  Well, cellulite you can’t get rid of.  You could work out all day long and be skinny and still have cellulite.  A little chubba you could get rid of.  See…  I’m trying to make you feel better here. 

PP: So, now I have freak-like boobs, mommy’s genes for early grays and I’m fat. Thanks. 

SAS: Sorry. 

PP: Just. Stop. 

[mutual ignoring each other and looking out the window] 

PP: That’s a pretty house, wonder what it is. 

SAS: [reading sign] It’s the home of Mary and William Simmons.  Whoever they are. 

PP: No, it’s not.  It’s the home of Major William Simmons.  You need to stop living your life in denial and get some glasses. 

SAS:  Oh. ha ha.  Well, it could be worse, you could have ginormous boobs that make you look pregnant, mommy’s gray hairs, chubba thighs AND need glasses! 

PP:  [Laser Beam Look of Death (through my GLASSES!) 

That's not me, I looked much more pissed. But, those kind of look like my glasses.

SAS: Doh.

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