Friday, November 6, 2015

#Write30 Challenge (Day Fifteen): Three pet peeves

I have a lot of pet peeves.

Listing three of them is going to be tough, but here we go.

I have a touch of the road rage. But only for idiots.
1. Slow drivers — As you can tell from this blog about me having road rage against my grandparents, I can't stand those who drive under the speed limit. There's something about following someone driving 55 in a 65 that makes me want to follow them home, beat them with a garden rake, find their kitten/puppy, take that kitten/puppy and throw it into a ceiling fan. I'd apologize afterwards of course, and buy them a new kitten/puppy, and maybe put a band-aid on their raked face, but the damage would already be done I guess. I feel like I've said a lot of things here so we're just going to move on.


I hate this band more than I hate the University of North Carolina.
2. Listening to anything by Rascal Flatts — Look, I don't care if God Blessed the Broken Road, What Hurts the Most is that you're actually listening to this crap. My Wish when I hear one of their songs is that shortly after Here Comes the Goodbye, or I'll Riot and then I'm Movin' On. I know that Life is a Highway, but I Won't Let Go of my desire to Rewind every single song I've ever heard of theirs and pretend like it never entered my ears. If you like Rascal Flatts, you're basically a Winner at a Losin' Game and Me and My Gang will bite you on the throat and I Won't Let Go, so Just Let it Hurt. I Like the Sound of That.

This has to be the worst sight in the world outside of catching your wife in the arms of Edward from Twilight.
3. Running out of toilet paper — Okay, this has happened like twice in the last two days. I finish up in the restroom, finish reading your Facebook or Twitter posts, reach for the toilet paper, and boom goes the dynamite, it's not there. Open the cabinet, nothing. Look around the entire bathroom, nothing. Just sitting there, unclean and sad, wishing I had a soft animal or a power washer. Trust me, it's a little humiliating to yell at your three year old to bring you a roll from their bathroom.

So there you have it, my three pet peeves. Tomorrow I get to bullet point my entire day, and since tomorrow is the Sloat Family Thanksgiving Dinner, it should be a heck of a time. Love you guys.