Tag Archives: revenge

Evil Lurks

I swear, there was murder in its eyes—all eight of its eyes lusted for my blood. I didn’t see him at first, but I could feel that evil gaze as soon as I walked into my bedroom.  I had just exited the shower and my only goal was to dry my hair in peace.  As I reached for the hair-dryer, I glanced something dark and sinister in my peripheral vision.  It was above me, on the wall—the most fuzzy, black arachnid I had ever seen!  He wasn’t gigantic, but he was formidable in size enough so that I jumped back in terror.  Staring directly at me, he began to move across the wall in my direction.  He was either murderous, completely pervy, or BOTH!

It was decision time! This spider had to go!  I grabbed a shoe…but then I stopped.  If I smacked at this thing and missed, it would merely fall to the floor, and would land directly in my open bins full of makeup, etc.  At that point, he could potentially escape into the mess of things, recuperate, and then carry out his revenge on me later as I slept!

What were my other options? He was too high on the wall for me to try to catch him and release him to the wild.  I could have gone to the next room to grab some sort of bug spray with which I could attack him, but I was afraid that if I turned my back at all, he would escape and hide from me, while of course plotting my demise.  My contemplations increased, and I began to panic.

This is the instant, that crucial turning point, where the boyfren walked into my house. That moment looked like this:

He walked up to my bedroom door (unbeknownst to me) and peered in, puzzled, to find that I was standing there stark naked, holding one shoe like a baseball about to be pitched, but frozen in place, staring up at the wall, and yelling at my cats, “Why don’t you two do your jobs?? Why can’t you track down and kill the spiders?? YOU HAVE ONE RESPONSIBILITY IN THIS HOUSE BESIDES LICKING YOUR ASSHOLES, AND THAT IS TO KILL THE CREEPY/CRAWLY THINGS!!!”

With poise and ease, Justin grabbed a Kleenex, and disposed of the murderous perv-spider. JUST LIKE THAT!  As if it was a simple gesture!

My hero!

Now…I simply wait for the spider’s family to avenge his death. They always do.  (Isn’t this like the tenth blog I’ve written about spiders????)

Lil Alarm

The beeping began at 5:30am, and my hand went flying towards the nightstand.  This is a natural reaction, since I am a habitual snoozer.  (I hit the snooze button at least five times before taking any alarm seriously.)


The sound….wouldn’t…stop.

Likely looking Like a drunken chimpanzee, I began to frantically hit all the buttons on top of the clock, and still, the annoying racket continued! 

I decided to open my eyes a little wider, and pick up the noise-making jerk-face to find the button marked, “snooze”. 


How can an alarm clock exist that doesn’t have a snooze button!??  I see one that says “On/Off”, and press it, with my hopes high.

Nothing happened. 

I press it again, harder, and STILL no response!! 

At this point, I’m becoming annoyed, and I snatch the clock from the nightstand AGAIN to take a closer look.  Unfortunately, my klutz factor is multiplied by 100 when I first awake in the morning.  This resulted in my dropping the clock onto the HARD and Non-carpeted floor!


For a split second, I grinned, thinking that I probably just killed it, so then I COULD snooze!!

“See!?? Take that, Motherfucker!  You’ve been SILENCED!!!”

But as soon as that thought passed through my mind, the radio on the clock turned on instead.  So, my beeping was then replaced by a loud, fuzzy, distorted sound.  A bunch of loud, white noise!

AAAAHHH!!!  That’s even WORSE!!!!!

“How is this thing still ALIVE!??”

Since I was obviously not going to make it turn off right away, I reached for the tuning knob so I could at LEAST have some music going while I figured out how to remedy my snooze situation. 

(Side note: HAD I actually been awake and functioning, then simply unplugging the clock from the wall would have occurred to me.  Hindsight, People……..)

When I attempted to find my favorite station, 96.5 The Buzz (<–Shameless name-drop!), the clock radio started playing some other song…no…wait….could it be?  There was no EFFING way…….but yes….

  Next thing I know, I’m hearing Lil Jon yell at me…

“TURN DOWN FOR WHAT!!!??????” 

That’s IT!!! My alarm clock was officially channeling through the radio and attempting to communicate with me. 

And what was it saying to me?  

“Fuck you, I’m making all the noise I want!!! Now get the Hell out of bed!”


If anyone is in need of an alarm clock, let me know.  I’m giving mine away.

It works great.




Gurgling Is A Language

When it happens, it gives a disheartening feeling……one that almost destroys my morning…almost.

Meandering over to Susie’s desk, where my African Cinnamon flavored brew was waiting, I awaited the happy feelings that come along with consuming the wonderful drink.

I pressed the top button of the coffee carafe, and after my mug was merely a third full, I was met with the burble and spitting sounds of an empty pot. I’m going to go ahead and say I’m fluent in the language of “gurgling”, because I CLEARLY heard the words “Fuck you! Ha ha ha!” come out of that carafe!

I WAS APALLED! To CUSS at me in a place of business—it’s downright rude and ridiculous!  SHAME ON YOU, GIANT COFFEE DISPENSER!  Shame…on…you!  (Never mind the fact that I had intended on consuming your insides and turning them into coffee-scented pee…..you’re the one with the shame, Carafe….YOU.)

After being thoroughly disappointed at the audacity of that hot beverage distributor, I stomped to the kitchen.

I was still fuming, offended, disappointed, and above all, IN NEED OF CAFFEINE.

I planned on topping off my cup of cinnamon-Joe with the regular stuff…and so I pressed on yet another carafe.

“Gurgle, spit, fuuuuhhhck yoooooou, haaa haaa haa…gurgle”


**Shocked face, mouth agape, moment of defeat**


Me, now: Back at my desk…drinking what coffee I happened to obtain…and plotting revenge.