20 March 2012
Dear An Post,
please stop kicking the ever-loving SHIT out of my packages from zooplus. i understand that 14kg of cat food and 28kg of cat litter IS an unreasonable amount of crap to haul around, but you don’t realize the havoc that you wreak upon my life when you deliver my goods.
also, please stop arriving at a quarter to effing 8 in the morning. while i appreciate the thoughtfulness of your trying to drop by as early as possible to ensure that we don’t waste our day waiting for you, what you don’t realize is that i don’t normally go to sleep until around 3 am most days. given that i am, thankfully, still under the age of 60, i really need a few more than 4 and a half hours of sleep a night.
i’m beginning to think that perhaps you really like my unkempt crazy-cat-lady hair, swollen eyes and shockingly red bathrobe.
this morning, not only did my packages arrive looking like they’d been dropped out of an airplane, the litter bags contained within one of the boxes had split open. what ended up happening is that instead of simply dragging the boxes into the house and
shutting the door stumbling upstairs to bed, i ended up attempting to dead-lift a box which had one side torn 3/4 of the way off. i then ended up dragging a 5 foot long trail of cat litter across my entryway, turning the floor into 40 grit sandpaper, which i then had to walk on.
i shuffled into the kitchen and got the dustpan thingy and swept up the largest pile, leaving a small amount between the two boxes to deal with later. i swept off the litter stuck to my cold, bare feet and shuffled upstairs to bed. i tried failingly to go back to sleep until about an hour later when i
woke to became aware of some sounds of cat revelry downstairs (cat owners will know what i’m talking about). i again groggily stumbled downstairs in bare feet to find the following Rorschach test left to me by my cats:
it was very sweet of you to try to give my cats an outlet for expressing their innermost artistic desires, but perhaps you might have chosen a less abrasive medium to offer them. perhaps it’s time for me to order 15lbs of play-doh.
thanking science for roombas,
the crazy cat lady in #63
2 February 2012
i am SO SICK of people walking around town, sitting behind me on the bus, in front of me at the till, pushing their stupid babies around and COUGHING their bleedin’ heads off! all the damn time and all around me. ok, i’ll admit to being a touch germ phobic, but i’ve realized lately that my immune system is supercharged and as a consequence, i don’t often catch shit that’s going around. case in point, Husband has been down with the man flu at least twice in the past several months and despite smothering him with love and sharing close quarters with him, i’ve been spared the plague.
but back to my violent bitching…
ok, i do understand that it’s winter, in ireland and 90% of irish people seem to get “winter cough” which they consider to be completely normal and something that happens with the seasons (seasons? hmmm). i know this from working in a naturopathic clinic as part of my edumacation. i have also heard not one, but several people talking about having PLEURISY. what. the. ever-loving. fuck? is this the middle ages? are we living in damp, dank, drafty castles with no sanitation?! i suppose if you think “winter cough” is a completely normal thing and that going on antibiotics several times a year isn’t cause for alarm, i guess then you might not be too shocked to develop bizarre antiquated diseases that the rest of the civilized world no longer even thinks about.
i don’t know at what point in human history, people decided that it was ok to cough their heads off in public without making the slightest attempt to spare us from their lung plague. i mean COME ON people! from the sounds of things, what you have ISN’T GOOD and I DON’T WANT IT. from the sound of things, you probably don’t have long to live. by golly, why are you even OUTSIDE?! jaysus, go the fuck home and eat some chicken soup! or get thee to a hospital!
i’ve noticed this starting at a very young age with useless parents (probably had the kid by mistake because they’re too useless to use a condom, or they’re too high on meth or heroin… but i digress) walking around with their kids coughing incessantly and not turning around to bitchslap them for not covering their mouths.
back in my day if i so much as cleared my throat without a hand in front of my face, i’d get a speedy backhand to the mouth from seemingly nowhere. i guess this is what happens when you’re not allowed to beat your kids. complete social anarchy. and the rampant spread of disease.
i see why the asians wear face masks everywhere.
30 January 2012
why can’t delivery drivers fucking use fucking google maps to find my house? is it so fucking hard? every. single. time. i order take-out, i inevitably get the completely unintelligible phone call from the delivery guy (it’s always a guy) who is (at the risk of sounding racist) very foreign and is speaking into his phone through a combination of memory foam and a mouth full of grapes. it really isn’t that hard to find my house. really. if they would just use fucking google fucking maps.
my favor(u)rite one was when the delivery guy was calling me from the shopping center in the middle of city centre (yeah i know i switched between center and centre, i’m international) asking me how he was supposed to get to my “apartment” when the shopping mall was closed. obviously, i don’t live in a shopping mall.
now i’m sure half of you are going “but you might have been wanting a delivery to a place of business” to which i would say “i would have PUT the business name ON the order IF i was hoping to get something delivered to a BUSINESS”
i wonder when my food will arrive.