You’re probably not going to believe me, but I really don’t like doing too many grouchy, “here’s what’s wrong with the world” blog posts, but this week, that’s all I seem capable of writing. Three times now I’ve started to write something for the blog, and each time it’s turned into a feverish rant like I’ve gone off my rant meds.
And it's not just the blog either. Yesterday I undertook a simple note to post on my front door. Something along the lines of ...
Please do not ring doorbell. Sleeping baby inside. Thank you.
Instead it turned into this:
Solicitors will be turned away in as rude a fashion as is humanly possible, and in case you're wondering what that might mean, I'll lay it out for you: You ring my door bell, I come to the door and unload a torrent of expletives, and then I go back inside and hook up my water cannon. I then return to the door and unleash 2000 lbs. psi of water pressure onto you, washing you down the street like a puddle of anti-freeze.
Although, come to think of it, if you rang the doorbell even after reading this sign, you’re clearly:
1) illiterate;
2) some kind of huge d-bag who doesn’t think
rules should apply to him; or
3) being chased by bears and in need of immediate shelter.
In any case, I can’t help you.
Because I’ve got this baby to deal with.
So don’t ring the freaking door bell.
Okaaaay?
So, yeah, I’m obviously a little tired and cranky, and I should probably not P.W.C. (post while cranky), so come on back next week for more of my usual sunshine. In the mean time, I’ll take a nap if I can.
How’s your week going, my friends? What's it like out there in the world these days?
