Sparklebumps’ Top Nine Pet Peeves

#1. Open-mouthed chewing and/or loud eating habits- absolutely without a doubt the most obnoxious habit in the ENTIRE world. There is nothing more irritating than having to listen to someone smack their lips while eating their dill-pickle-flavored chips. When finally they are done chewing and have swallowed, the agony begins again with another handful. Popcorn is especially obnoxious, as well. I can think of nothing worse than to be seated at a table with people of this sort and to be unable to smother them with a loaf of bread when they so unwittingly offend me so. Sadly, it seems to be my lot in life to be surrounded by people that refuse to chew with their mouths closed.

#2. Lazy people- I detest people who are simply to lazy to do what is required of them. This usually manifests itself at a job, but if you are too lazy to clean the cat shit out of the litter box at home- that pisses me off too. I admit that I am a complete lazy fucker- AFTER the house is clean and there is nothing else to be done. At work, I have my moments of utter slackerism, but for the most part, I’m there to work, not to hear about your stupid fight with your stupid boyfriend because you’re too stupid to dump his stupid ass.

#3 Stupid people- I would like to think that God didn’t deem it necessary to make stupid people. Unfortuneately, this thought is glaringly absurd when I find myself surrounded by morons. I try to be nice to the ones who don’t know any better, but the ones that are stupid on purpose? That is just not acceptable.

#4 Taylor Swift- I don’t even want to talk about it.

#5 People who cannot control their children- these and the Stupid People are sometimes one in the same. I do not find it remotely acceptable when your child is screaming “Shut up!” or “No, I won’t!” when I am going about my business. I do not like to be run into by the child that is running rampant through a store while their parent is gazing on in a dim-witted fashion. I believe that these parents should be sterilized and their children shipped off to a deserted island where man-eating gators flourish.

#6 Fuckerhead Drivers- the definition of these people encompasses many things. The person who is driving too slow when I can’t pass them; the person who is driving to slow because they are on the phone; the person who is driving to slow because they suck ass. Generally, the drivers who won’t get the fuck outta my way.

#7 People who scream at their kids- if you didn’t want them, you shouldn’t have had them. That’s all I have to say about that.

#8 Muffin tops- buy some pants that fit, yo. The excess fat you have hanging over your pants makes you look fat, even though you’re skinny, and it makes me so mad.

#9 Corn Nuts- you might as well say, “Pass the bag of noisy-to-eat bits of crap that smell like vomit and the bottom of my toilet, please.”

The Hangover

Well, my Lovelys, my brain is completely devoid today of all the fabulous ideas for posts I came up with last night when I was drunk. Piss me right off. This may be due to the fact that I started drinking 99 Blackberries when the sun was not yet setting. I figured out that I imbibed approximately 297 Blackberries altogether before running out and switching to Brandy. So, in the hope that I will magically remember the post ideas that have slipped my mind, I will retrace my steps…

I decided to have a drink a few minutes before my Rockstar got home from work. Of course, some unknown being ended up drinking the whole thing when I wasn’t looking. I don’t understand how that happened. So I had to get up and refill my glass.

I was reading The Dirt, which is a bio of Motley Crue, and I remember wondering when I finally start our band, if my Rockstar would be willing to wear red leather lace-up pants during our shows. I had a perfect chance to ask him this very question, since he walked in the door at that very moment. Sadly, I do not know what his answer was, because my 99 berries had started seeping into my bloodstream at that point, and my brain had already moved on to another subject.

I fixed my Rockstar a purpley Brandy drink while he mixed together some Leini beer that smelled like butt and some V8. (Gross) We then ended up listening to some music- which led to a discussion about the validity of Madonna’s talent. It seems my Rockstar likes Madonna simply because she pushed the boundaries of  societies approval while having next to no talent. (The same reason why he likes Motley Crue). I then informed him of my very strong opinion that he should greatly admire Lady GaGa , since she has essentially done the same thing.

Lady GaGa came up because we were listening to a fantastical new band we found called Semi-Precious Weapons, which consists of a bunch of dudes dressed like women. It turns out that Lady GaGa helped these dudes to get there start. I am not quite certain of their actual musical talent; however, one of there songs begins with the lyrics, “I can’t pay my rent but I’m fuckin’ gorgeous”, and since thes lyrics apply to me, I was instantly hooked.

The conversation then turned to David Bowie, and his utter sensuality despite the fact that he dressed like Ziggy Stardust and can clothes-swap with his wife without looking like a dork. I will admit, if I was to see David on the street, I would willingly take my clothes off and jump his bones if he asked me to.

My Rockstar decided at that point that he was tiring of watching men dressed as women pretend to play guitar, so we turned on some lubetube. For those of you that may not know it, lubetube is just like youtube, except the people in the videos are naked and having sex. In other words, porn. Wooo!

My Rockstar prefers for me to find the appropriately provacative videos, but is very adamant about changing them when they don’t appeal. He seems to like the blonde girls with no boobies, which is the complete opposite of what I look for, so he is the one who ends up picking the videos. He surprisingly found a very fun video of a gorgeous girl with orangey hair. After I sat on his naked lap and wiggled around alot, we decided to eat pizza.

Sidenote: I must tell you, this reminiscing is not getting me any closer to remembering the wonderful post ideas I am trying to think of.

I had brought a beautiful pizza home that I made at work the other night, and we were going to warm it up. There then happened to be a discussion over who’s side was who’s, since mine had yum yum onions on it and his consisted of ham and pepperoni. The discussion grew heated when we were unable to tell, since much extra cheese was sprinkled over the defining toppings. In the end, I said I was too drunk to care to just heat the damn pizza up already.

Last night’s TV featured the American Country Awards, which, when I think about it, kinda sucked ass. The upside is that Trace Adkins hosted. Trace is a sexy, successful version of a pot-smoking ex-uncle-in-law that I used to have, and his deep rumbly voice and long long hairs make my panties bunch (in a good way). The Band Perry sang (with my accompaniment) while my Rockstar pointed out that they should be renamed A Girl and Two Fairies (he means this in the most amiable way possible) since we are convinced the lead singer’s two brothers are completely and beautifully gay. After my obeservation that Blake Shelton’s eyes are creepily buggy, to my delight, Alabama performed.

Now, perhaps if I were to hear them for the first time today, I would not be as fascinated with Alabama as I am, but of all the music my momma listend to when I was a wee child, Alabama and Kenny Rogers are the only two singer/ bands that I remember. This has given them a special place in my heart, and I squealed with drunken excitement to find out that they will be touring again. I stated to my Rockstar that we must most definitely go see them live, and then I got distracted by his lap and started to grind on him. We decided we had seen enough country western singers for the night.

After more naked fun time, it was time for sleep. Apparently though, 99 Blackberries is infused with a Red-Bull-like substance, and sleep evaded me. I spent the rest of the night getting a glass of water EVERY HOUR, since I was to tired to do anything else. I also happened to drink a liter of pop when water lost it’s appeal.

Well, I guess there’s nothing more to say, except that was a completely unsuccessful way for me to figure out what I was going to write about today.

P.S. I got bitten in the ass and have finger print bruises on my thigh, so apparently the sex was even better than I remember….