how to annoy me.
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.
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method 1:
be a giant tree in my parking lot. drop a huge glob of some sappy substance onto my car roof/front passenger window to greet me when i walk out to my car this morning. ick.
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.
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method 2:
start a business. locate said business in the basement of your home. make the ONLY available bathroom facilities adjoin your office, so that every day, you can listen to your employees as they go about an entirely different type of business. seriously. which one of us should be more uncomfortable?
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.
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method 3:
pull out of the publix parking lot with a car full of people in your boat of an old-person-car, having looked left, looked right, and then pulled out into traffic, not bothering to look left again until you are directly in front of me and i have stood on my brakes, sending everything in my car flying into the floorboard, while laying on my horn and throwing several thousand daggers at you with my eyes. in response, you look up in total shock and shrug, mouthing “i’m sorry.”
yes lady, i too am sorry. that you never learned how to drive.
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.
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method 4:
sit in the corner glowering at barry because we’ve left you alone for the past 12 hours, and proceed to urinate on my carpet, you spoiled rotten little cat. i love you to pieces, but so help me, i will skin you alive and hang you from our third-story balcony by your hairless little tail if you do that again. we will NOT be punished for having a life outside of this apartment. someday, in the very distant future, we will have children for that. for now, for the love of all that is good and holy, let us enjoy our youth.
.
.
method 1:
be a giant tree in my parking lot. drop a huge glob of some sappy substance onto my car roof/front passenger window to greet me when i walk out to my car this morning. ick.
.
.
.
method 2:
start a business. locate said business in the basement of your home. make the ONLY available bathroom facilities adjoin your office, so that every day, you can listen to your employees as they go about an entirely different type of business. seriously. which one of us should be more uncomfortable?
.
.
.
method 3:
pull out of the publix parking lot with a car full of people in your boat of an old-person-car, having looked left, looked right, and then pulled out into traffic, not bothering to look left again until you are directly in front of me and i have stood on my brakes, sending everything in my car flying into the floorboard, while laying on my horn and throwing several thousand daggers at you with my eyes. in response, you look up in total shock and shrug, mouthing “i’m sorry.”
yes lady, i too am sorry. that you never learned how to drive.
.
.
.
method 4:
sit in the corner glowering at barry because we’ve left you alone for the past 12 hours, and proceed to urinate on my carpet, you spoiled rotten little cat. i love you to pieces, but so help me, i will skin you alive and hang you from our third-story balcony by your hairless little tail if you do that again. we will NOT be punished for having a life outside of this apartment. someday, in the very distant future, we will have children for that. for now, for the love of all that is good and holy, let us enjoy our youth.