Thursday, November 3, 2011

I converse with inanimate objects.

I should probably get out more.

I've realized that lately, when the little one is napping or playing in the toy room, that I talk to the TV, the can opener, the fridge, and I find this to be normal.  It is normal, right?  RIGHT?


Anyway, here is a sample of what I spout off to the things in my home that have no choice but to listen to me.  Someday, they'll learn to either respond, or do what I tell them.

To the TV:

"Seriously, must you show transvaginal mesh disease commercials during lunch hour?"
"Dude, your eyes are shooting in two different directions.  Who put you on TV!?"
"Weathergirl, showing your cleave ain't gonna get you a primetime slot.  Well, unless you're willing to have surgery.  But you need more work than your boobs.  Oh, did I say that out loud? My bad."
"FUCKING. BASEBALL.  Why the hell do I bother to DVR anything during playoffs?  Terra Nova kicks baseball's ASS, TV!  GAWD!  FIX THISSSSSSSSSSS!"
"TV, what does this commercial have anything to do with what they're advertising?  You don't know either?  Some help you are."

To the ac/heat vents:

"For the love of PETE, why didn't the stupid ass people who built this stupid ass house tack you down?  My kid likes to throw things down you, but as I am somewhat certain that there are things living down there that will grab my arm and pull me down (Yes, I know.  There is now way possible that I can fit in this 4x12 rectangle.  Shut up.  You calling me fat?  Bring it on, asshole.)... where the fuck is the Gorilla Glue?"

To the can opener:

"WOULD YOU FUCKING WORK INSTEAD OF ONLY CUTTING PART OF THE LID?  CRIPES!"

To the coffee pot:

"Hurr....rrrreeeeeeeee... I'mmmm.... dy.......innnnnnnng....."

To the fridge:

"I wish you would magically fill up with delicious goodies that would require no work whatsoever.  I'm going to shut the door, and reopen it, and you make it happen, okay?  Okay. ... ... ... You let me down every. fucking. time."

Am I the only one that does this? Yes?  Hmm.

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