Ruminations of a Red Dirt Hussy

October 24, 2013

I’ll take that tiara now.

I have a whole list of things people have made fun of me for hating/fearing/disliking/being disgusted by/any combination of the four.

Don’t you sit there looking all innocent at me. Someday you’ll think back on all the crap you gave me and be sorely ashamed of yourselves. I expect many apologies.  And maybe a tiara. Yeah. Definitely a tiara.

  • Bathroom water. Taking a bath in it is fine. Doing other things in it is fine. Drinking it? Not fine. Disgusting, in fact. If you don’t think so, I don’t want to know what else you’ve put in your mouth. And while we’re at it, hot water does not belong in a commode. If you think that doesn’t happen—or if you think it’s no big deal—just ask me. I will tell you.
  • Vomit humor. Not funny. Not funny at all. It’s the new sex, as in “What can we show on television that will shock and/or disgust watchers?” Seriously, people. Remember when Rob and Laura and Lucy and Ricky had twin beds, and you rarely saw them in those beds? We moved from there to bare bellies and cleavage and on to David Caruso’s pasty white ass and finally to everything but full frontal nudity in prime time. Nowhere to go but vomit.
  • The Honduras. The highest murder rate in the world. The whole, wide, world. And just think, if it weren’t for Alex Trebek, I might have gone there.
  • People leaving home in pajamas. I don’t care what you call them. I don’t want to see yours.
  • 16 and Pregnant. Really? I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant. Toddlers and Tiaras. Dance Moms. Seriously. Not that I’m intolerant. I can see American Idol or Dancing with the Stars. At least those shows celebrate talent instead of putting on a humiliation circus of people who don’t even know they’re being ridiculed. Honestly. Get your own life. Maybe then you won’t have to lurk around the pathetic existences of others. Ick.
  • The Pacific Northwest. Hello. Serial killers?
  • Poets. Why? What is wrong with you? Don’t you read my blog?
  • Chicken omelets. Think about it. It. Is. Just. Wrong.
  • Thong panties. Once that thong goes where it goes, I’m not touching it, so, in essence, it’s permanent underwear, which is disgusting, or disposable underwear, which I can’t afford. I don’t want to see yours either, so pull your pants up.
  • Speedos. All I’m going to say is “Ewww.”
  • Gretchen Carlson. Just watch her once. You’ll understand.
  • The following phrases, words, or terms: “a source close to the star says”; “baby bump”; “yummy”; “God told me to tell you ______________.”
  • Using timers in Scrabble games. I mean, really. Do you want good words or fast words? You can’t have both.
  • People who, when a woman has made a decision, ask what her husband has to say about that. Because, you know, unless it involves having one of his body parts removed, it doesn’t matter what he says.
  • Facebook pictures of what you had for breakfast. Unless it was a domestic animal, I don’t want to know.
  • Tribal tattoos. Unless you can name the tribe you belong to.
  • Barking dogs. If there isn’t a person breaking into your house or assaulting you, shut the dog up. I don’t care what you have to do. Just do something so I don’t have to hear it.

I can’t wait for my tiara.

 

 

 

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3 Comments »

  1. Can’t help you with all those things, but here’s a tiara for you:

    Like

    Comment by Michelle — October 24, 2013 @ 4:26 pm | Reply

  2. Want some more tiaras that you TOTALLY deserve? Come by my blog sometime!

    Like

    Comment by ♔ la dauphine ♔ — October 25, 2013 @ 12:11 pm | Reply

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    Comment by barredeson.com — October 26, 2013 @ 6:04 pm | Reply


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