Seriously, he wants to fart into my candle.
I�m in a real piss-ass mood this morning. Me thinky it�s PMS time. The biggest indicator of which would be my complete and total lack of patience with my husband. Same shit, different day, but it all goes back to the whole �brains of the operation� thing. I�m fucking sick of it.
He�s heading up north today to see his step-dad. He�s not doing good. They put him on a ventilator early this morning. It seems the end could be near. Which is sad, because as far as I�m concerned, that grumpy old man is probably the best thing to ever happen to that family. And I say �grumpy old man� out of love. That�s what he wants you to think of him, but he�s really not.
Hub also spent ALL FUCKING DAY yesterday helping his sister Tina check into the loony bin. Why it had to take 8 and something hours, I don�t know. Seems fishy to me, but supposedly that�s where he was all day. Yah. Whatever. She�s all drugged up and getting the help she needs, anyway.
I would like to run away. Far, far away. With no Hub, because he is just as much one of my problems lately as the kids. He may as well be a fucking kid. I know, I was a aware of the fact that he was retarded when I decided to marry him. So it�s all my fucking fault. I�m just sick and tired of telling him how to spell shit, I�m sick of being the one who has to fill out all the paperwork--especially when he needs said paperwork done for 9:00 am, paperwork he�s had for 7 FUCKING DAYS, and he gives it to me at 7:30 this morning. Then he starts talking on the fucking phone while I�m filling this out, and I needed his input on it, so guess what? I didn�t fucking do it. He was lucky enough I�d even THINK about doing it on that kind of notice, and then he starts yakking on the fucking phone? Too fucking bad. You�re on your own.
I sat down here with the intention of NOT bitching about him and his stupid shit, yet I couldn�t help it.
Man, I am really getting annoyed by those fucking red duct tape �Life� things over people�s faces. REALLY FUCKING ANNOYED. Give it up, already. Let her go.
As far as Beavis�s mess of yesterday goes, I had to endure his fucking drama after school yesterday. And I wasn�t the one that number one, put all that shit under his bed and number two had to move the mess to fix the fucking bed. But I had to listen to it.
Oh, and, AND he had the bed fixed by himself (and he �was going to� fix it again, before Hub did) WITH THE JACK FROM MY VAN. He is so fucking lucky I didn�t find that shit. He�s also lucky I didn�t get a flat and need it at some point, because if I had, and that jack wasn�t there, it would soon be shoved far, far up Beavis�s skinny little ass. Fucking kid.
So, I had to listen to how life is so unfair to Beavis. How he�s angry. How something that happened a year ago is still pissing him off (one night, the door to the cellar was locked and we didn�t realize it. Beavis thought we were locking them in the cellar. It wasn�t intentional, but he�s still seething over it). How EVERY SINGLE DAY since Christmas, he�s come home and his room isn�t the way he left it. (Oh really? How the fuck can you tell? I�m thinking that that one time, when he went to spend a few days with a buddy, and I went down and found his space heater under an open drawer, with said drawer leaning on the heater, and said heater was ON, I�m thinking that time, maybe it was a good thing I found that? Maybe that just proves the little assmunch can�t be trusted? That�s what I think, anyway).
It would be nice if Hub could be around to deal with the ramifications of his actions around here, but conveniently, he never is. I deal with it. I deal with way too much around here. And when I start to get bullshit about it, then I�m a bitch.
There I go again. Whatever. Fuck him.
Anyway, back to Beavis. He actually thinks that he will be able to get a door with a lock on it for his room. HA-HA VERY FUNNY MOTHERFUCKER. Like he�s going to lock me out of that room. Not gonna happen. Why? Two names: Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold. I am so not going to be one of those parents. Nope. I�m going to be snoopy when I need to be. Not that I plan complete and total privacy raids, but I�m not giving the little bastard the opportunity for a private bomb-building sanctuary, either.
Yeah, yesterday he was having his little drama scene at the kitchen table with me and Butthead. Butthead�s so funny, just chomping down sour cream and onion chips and saying stuff like, �Gee, Beavis, you�re all, like, emotional�. So then Beavis starts bringing up how he wants a door with a lock on it, and Butthead says, �I�ll bet you $20 right now that there�s no way they�re going to let you put a lock on your room�. Smart kid.
Speaking of Butthead, his car engine has been repaired. They were supposed to pick it up yesterday to bring to the body shop, but Hub was caught up with his nutty sister. So, when Butthead got home he was asking Hub when they could go get his car, and Hub was like �Not today�, which resulted in Butthead hanging up and shouting, �I AM NEVER GOING TO HAVE A CAR!� The drama is wonderful, it�s all comedic with him about this at this point.
Poor kid is going to be pissed today too, cuz it ain�t happening today, either.
This is what Butthead said to me the other night:
Butthead: Can I fart into that candle?
Me: Uh, no?
Butthead: Do you know how fun it is to light a fart on fire? Have you ever done it?
Me: No, but I�ve seen it done.
Butthead: It�s SO COOL.
Seriously, he wants to fart into my candle.
That sentence has me cracking up for no reason whatsoever except the sheer ridiculousness of it. This is the person in our household who has the worst, most methane filled gas. You just know by smelling it (which you really have to try not to at all costs, but he likes to share it when we�re all in the van) that it�s flammable. And in the van? He lets them rip, and waits for us to comment on how nasty his ass is. And then he smiles, all proud of himself. And if you can match it in the van? He�ll laugh when everybody says it stinks and then ask, �Isn�t that fun?�.
On that note, I�m out, yo.
Peace and shit.