Things that suck about living with a man, and backin' that azz up.

Well.

It's Friday again.

It's also pay day over on this end, so it's a bit of a decent day.

 

But I'm still sick as a dog. Thankfully, I have cough drops, and peach tea with honey in it to help me get through this day.

 

I'm going to go ahead and back my azz up so that you can jam out while you read the rest of this entry.

 

 

Now that you're all set with a song you're going to be singing drunkenly later, let's move on.

 

Today at work I plan on doing next to nothing. I do, however, plan that at about 3:30pm, I'll walk over to 7-11 and get a slurpee (coke and cherry, duh), then proceed to pour rum into it.

 

I will then enjoy my Friday afternoon at work, until about 5pm, where I will proceed to then go drinking legally somewhere for a bit.

 

I don't really know how to segue into this, so here is a little list that I put together.

 

Things That Suck About Living With a Man

 

1. They don't understand or respect the morning process. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to be made fun of because you're trying to make me laugh, and I certainly don't want you to walk into the bathroom while I'm doing my morning pee. Which brings me to number two:

 

2. They have no respect for closed doors, either. I swear, every time I close a door, Jason finds a reason to open it. If we have guests over and I'm changing, he just slings the door open all willy-nilly like it's not a big deal if our neighbors see me in my skivvies. If I have to do a number two, he thinks it's nothing to stand in the door way and talk to me through out the process. NOT. COOL.

 

3. They eat all your food. Food that he swears he doesn't like, so I buy it just for myself, mysteriously gets eaten. My work lunches keep going missing.

4. They don't understand what Pinterest is to women. He thinks it's alright to look at guns all day long on his phone, but then when I want to look at Pinterest and get some badass ideas to make our home look prettier, for us to eat tastied food, and maybe make my body look a little more bangin', he thinks I'm ignoring him and wasting my time.

5. Gas. Don't get me wrong, we all produce gas. But hell hath no fury like a mans butthole. I don't think I need to elaborate on this one.

 

 I'm just going to leave it there. Those are probably my 5 worst things.

Happy Friday!