21 February 2012

Post #65

Anger Management. A story in how I schooled myself.

Well, shits.  I learned a life long lesson this past week.  Throwing a purse that weighs a good five pounds, while angry, and trying to slam a door will cause nothing but a whole lot of pain.  I almost ripped the end of my finger off.  After a trip to the ER (where the on-call doctor would have rather treated a sheep with herpes than deal with me), a trip to my general practitioner who knows shit about hand wounds, and finally a trip to a hand surgeon (who I am still on the fence about), I was left with a cracked bone (yeah, not broken...cracked) and this:

What the fuck nurse!?  While your lanyard skills
are very impressive, I am not a Freshman in college who needs to keep
my one key and ID card in check.  

And let me just say, you can't drive with this soap-on-a-rope for shit! I mean I hit blinkers, lights, and windshield wiper settings I didn't even know I had.  Looked like my car was having a damn seizure.

I finally got home.  Where a gift from Amazon awaited.

Guess who's sister got a matching pair?!

That's right.  I figured since my hand will be out of commission for awhile, I can keep my feet warm and clean the floor all at the same time...and so can you Megan.  Get to steppin.

After that excitement wore off I realized that my finger was really starting to burn.  So I took the splint off.  And then it hit me...the crafty ass nurse dutifully fashioned my bandage into a:

Tampon!

The bird is the word,

Katie E. Eshelman

10 February 2012

Post #64

Superbowl Sunday.

Before I even started drinking...much, my sister and I decided it would be a fantastic idea to deep clean our fridge. Terrible fucking idea. Those shelves inside your Frigidaire?  Yeah, they are made of tempered glass.  As I gently cleaned the damn thing it decided to give up on life and explode in my hands.  Miniature pieces of devil ice everywhere!  I am confident that I will be pulling shards of that shelf out of the bottom of my feet till the end of time.  It kind of resembled this...

 

'Fffffuck....Shit"  (My sister's reaction was remarkably identical.)

Later that day, I drank like I was watching the game.  Turns out I chose not to watch the game at all.  Instead, I decided to purchase an absurd amount of "drinking mugs" off of Amazon. No fucking idea why, other than it seemed like a legit idea. 

It wasn't.

Bitch Tits pissed me off for no reason...aside from the fact that I am terribly allergic to her and got another bloody nose.  I decided to express my frustrations via a new dog tag.


"Love Your Pets"


Unfortunately, it didn't get here quick enough.  I thought my demands were pretty clear assholes! I felt it was an injustice.  So, I figured I would write them a stern letter that expressed my severe disappointment.  Turns out it was just a picture...

My work here is done.  

No animals were harmed so don't go ape shit on me.

'Snappy' means 'Now',

Katie E. Eshelman