The Grape-less Wrath

Six Things About My Pissy Mood:

1. I've been watching a lot of CNN (what with my TV husband and his biceps and all) so I've thus learnt how to waterboard someone. You should know that I'm more than willing to employ this skill. Backing away slowly would generally be considered the wisest course of action.

2. If you really cross me and waterboarding seems like too gentle a punishment (because, after all, nothing bad actually happens when one is almost drowned) I do have 3 acres and a firearm. And some deer friends who would be supremely happy to pick at any carcass deposited on aforementioned acreage.

3. On a more individual point, please stop "suggesting" that I should really go to university like, right this very moment, or else my life will clearly be completely fucked forever and ever amen.
I know some people who know some people who could totally get me a degree from the black market on the cheap. They could probably also find me new jeans, more cottage cheese, and a sex slave. Did I say sex slave? I totally meant "Domestic Assistant".

Also, school? Not my thing. I think this has been empirically proven more than once.

4. Again on a more specific note: Please, for the love of everything good and holy, stop bathing every inch of your being in perfume. Those "scent-sensitive" people drive me crazy too, but it's allergy season. Cut a girl a break for godssake. If you continue on this treacherous olfactory path, you will give me no choice but to steal an article of your clothing for a week. In the course of this week, I will make said item of clothing smell so bad, I guarantee no one will want to be in a 16.5sq ft radius of you. Perfume will not help. My methods, whilst secret, are organic and very effective. I'm just sayin'. Tone it down.

5. I realize that eating ice cream whilst watching the Biggest Loser is not the best plan. I am doing it anyway. Also, did you know that in the old testament Tuesday was "Gluttony Day" for early christians? They would find a pig (or sometimes a small child) and roast it over an open pit, then have orgies and eat pig all day every Tuesday. So, really, I'm just following ancient christian tradition, minus the orgy. (Ok, so I made that shit up. But it totally sounds plausible, no?)

6. And to you, feline nemesis: Things on my plate are not meant for you to steal, eat, breathe upon, lick, play with, and/or cast eyes upon. I realize that I left my plate of grapes unattended for approximately 12.7 seconds this evening; this was not (I repeat, NOT) an open invitation for you to play your sick kitten games with my dinner. My patience is wearing thin. Do not tempt me, for I feel you would make an excellent hat.