Stuff that pisses me off, even more...the 2nd in a series of many

Yep...there are more things.  If you've read part 1 of the things that piss me off? You will fer sure know that this shit is serious.  Okay, so not really.  However, this stuff still pisses me off.  So there.


Please mind your own damn business.  If I didn't tell you my business?  It's because I didn't fucking want you to know. Or, I totally forgot and you'll find out eventually.  My business is not your business.  If you overhear my business?  Do what you like with it EXCEPT ask me questions about it.  You overheard it because you're a nosy douche.  So, keep it to yourself, tell the neighbors, call the papers, post it on Facebook, tweet it, whatever...just don't ask me about it.  If you forget this and ask me about it?  Don't get all prissy when I tell you to go fuck yourself.  Just don't.

Manners.  Get some.  Everyone.  I'm a bitch.  Whatever.  I still know how to say excuse me or hold a door.

                                                 

There has not been a single instance where I've gone to the grocery with the Mini where I didn't have to explain this to her :

 ADULTS ARE FUCKING RUDE.

They bump into her, ram their carts into her, and will stand behind her and huff and puff while she chooses her ice cream.  She does take forever to choose the damn ice cream flavor. She's 10.  HELLO.  However, if one time Mr. or Mrs. Huffypants would just say "excuse me", the Mini would move right outta their way. And, yes, I announce how rude the person is.  It's 2 words.  Get off of your damn cell phone and use your words.  Didn't we learn that shit when we were like 3?  These are the same people who say "kids these days are so disrespectful" and other lame & sometimes true shit like that.  Still.  It pisses me off.  Huge.

Keep your fucking animals away from me.  I don't like them.  Dogs scare me. Cats are okay but they ick me sometimes.  If I think your pet is cute?  I'll walk right over and tell you and do that whole ooohhhh and ahhhhh thing.  I don't care if you've known me my whole life or your a stranger.  I do NOT want your pet's slobber, hair, fleas, food remnants and whatnot, ON ME.  I'm not an animal hater but you people with all these damn animals need to realize that not everyone shares your love for the four legged beings.  Also, if your dog jumps on people, and you should know this cause it's supposed be like well, YOUR dog...don't leave the damn thing out when you invite people to your house.  See manners.  And seriously, leave your pets at home when you're at parades, bars, restaurants, theme parks, groceries stores, the mall, etc.  They have places just for pets.  Dog parks, regular parks, the woods.  Whatever.  Take them there.  Your pet does not have to accompany you on your people outings.  Really.  I know stuff.

                                      

No, I don't want to hold your baby.  Ever. That's why it's YOUR baby.  I love babies.  They rock.  They're cute and they coo and they're mostly quiet (that's the best part) and they wear really cute baby clothes and have tiny feet (I dig tiny feet) and stuff but I DON'T WANT TO HOLD YOUR BABY.  This freaks me out. I'm terrified I'm going to the be the one to break your child.  Stuff happens.  It's me.  I totally know that once I have your bundle of joy in my arms, a giant spider will decide that it's time to crawl on my foot and your baby will soaring through air while I scream bloody murder and run so fast fire shoots out of my shoes like in the cartoons.  Yes, I had a baby.  But, it was MY baby.  If I broke her, it was my fault and I had no one to blame but myself. Now, if you're lucky enough to be my close friend, a whole different baby scenario could ensue.  Because you're my friend.  The baby will still soar through the air when the spider lands on my foot, but I will yell "CATCH IT" as I run.  I'm not sure if the fire will still shoot from my shoes.  I'll have to test that.  Also, almost every damn time somebody holds a baby that isn't theirs that whole crying thing starts. Babies hate that shit.  They told me.  The babies.

Do NOT show up to my humble abode unannounced.  This is the rudest of all rude.  Mostly on my part. Because if you do show up without advance notice, I will be more rude than you've probably ever experienced.  Listen, I work all day and then I run errands, do the Mini thing, cook, clean, etc...  When I get to the homestead, I'm bra-less and most times, pant-less.  This is not something you need to witness.  Also, all my crazy OCD & Etiquette stuff starts and I freak because I have nothing prepared for you. Crumpets, tea what-the-fuck-ever.  If I don't know to expect you, I'll have nothing ready.  And that?  Is all bad.  Also, some of my bric a brac and whatnot could be out of place.  I cannot have another human being see this.  I just can't.  Yes, I realize this is insane.  Whatever.  Show up at my house unannounced and see what you get. Fat lotta nothin and one pissed off Princess.  However, if you do show up?  Bring vodka, the caramel kind. And a snack or two.  And a bra and some pants - the sweat kind. At least you'll get to see me for a minute before I slam the door in your face.  What?  I want the stuff.  Seriously though, the joke will be on you.  

Oh and yeah, I totally internet lifted and face-lifted the pics.  The original images can be found at the following:

www.sodahead.com
www.petswelcome.com
www.theparksimagegroup.com -
www.askipedia.com