When I lend something to someone and it comes back it shittier shape than when I gave it to them. Just because I don't take care of my shit doesn't mean you get to abuse it even more! Maybe I lent it to you in hopes that you would realize that it was worthless and you would take pity on me and go buy me a new one. (Maybe that only happens with my mom)
I enjoy the snow and the winter because if I didn't I would move the fuck out of Minnesota. Nobody likes a whiner. But what I don't like is the mess it makes. I don't enjoy the bottom of my pants getting wet and stained white from the salt on the ground. I don't enjoy the same thing happening to my car mats. I don't enjoy brushing up against a car and getting a fucking salt stain on my jacket. Or pants. And I don't enjoy when the entry way of my house turns into a gravel pit in the winter months. I don't enjoy these things but I accept them. I don't bitch about them, I just clean them up. If it was a deal breaker for me, I would move to the Equator.
I live with two bachelors, one of them being my brother, so I have to be more understanding of his bullshit because he's family. Boys are dirty pigs, no matter where they live, with whom, how, when, fucking why, ect, and I knew what I was getting into living with two single grown men. For the most part I don't see the brother because we work opposite hours and I leave town every weekend. Even though I don't see his face, I do see his dirty dishes in the sink and it's enough to make me want to cut him in his sleep. The kid is a work-out junkie and all he eats is eggs. But he keeps melting all of my plastic spatulas (when the last one is gone I'm not buying anymore) and scratching my Teflon pans to shit and then leaves the pan "soaking" in the sink. To him, soaking means he's too fucking lazy to scrub the burnt shit out of the bottom of the pan and he knows I'll do it because I can't stand to see my kitchen in disarray. It's a man-thing, I know. But how about you make something to eat other than eggs?? How about some Mac and Cheese or pizza or something that won't cause death to my fry pans, you fucker! If you're looking for last-minute Christmas gift ideas for me: pans and non-plastic spatulas. Seriously...my favorite pan:
Girls. I hate girls. I hope I never give birth to any because girls are fucking bitches. And it starts young, in the pre-schools I hear. A friend told me a story how she herself got in trouble for spreading her legs while wearing a skirt at nap-time in kindergarten because she knew little boys were watching her. WHAT! I remember growing up with my younger sister, the bitch of all bitches. She was TERRIBLE. She was Mean Girls a decade before Mean Girls ever existed. She WAS Regina George times a million. I recall one day being home with the sibs after school and I was in charge until 6pm when Mom or Dad got home and it was the LONGEST 2.5 hours of my life. The sis was being her normal bitchy self, not listening to me because that's what she did. I politely reminded her that chores needed to be done before Mom got home and she had 20 minutes so she better get it done and the bitch said, "Fuck you, fat bitch. Get some friends, you have none". Um...what?? I chased that skank up the stairs as fast as my fat legs would carry me and cornered her in my parents bathroom, grabbed her by the ponytail and slammed her head against the window with all my might. Like I said...girls are fucking bitches, even when they are sisters. (Side note: Kass and I have gotten along perfectly since 2001, when Dylan was born. It was the earlier years that were do-or-die) I wish I could find a cute pic of Kass and I in our youth to post here but the truth is we couldn't stand to be in the same vicinity of each other so...there are none.
Love Janice Ian.
I also hate centipedes, Teletubies, mouth-breathers, Justin Bieber, tequila, and radishes. That's all.
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