3/13/2006

Grievances, pt 2: Because you know there is always more where that came from

I just cannot stop thinking of things that have been annoying me lately. I'm not in a total 666 mood like I was about a month and a half ago, but rather the world is just out to piss me off. Naturally.

1) Life is unfair: Whenever I would throw a little teenage hissy fit over issues such as my parents' insistence that I would not be getting a car at 16, going out on non-group dates with a guy I liked, or some other now inconsequential non-issue, my Mom would always say, "Yeah well...life isn't fair." That statement would always make me fume, because I had a grounded enough childhood to realise that we don't always get what we want. It always seemed like such an oversimplification, as if, prior to the uttering of this statement, I perhaps thought that "Golly gee, life is always perfect and we all get what we want, when we want it."

Sometimes life is unfair, and it pains me to think of that phrase when things are less than perfect. However, a lot of bad stuff has been happening to people I know and some that I love, and I cannot help but ruminate on how life is drastically unfair. The unfairness of it all seems to rain down upon you at one time as well. As if it's not enough to get bad news once, it needs to happen at least every other day. Down with life being unfair!

2) People who let their pets get really fat: I saw an advert for "Britain's Fattest Pets" or some such dross, and I spent the rest of the evening trying not to cry at the thought of the poor dog featured that was so fat he could barely even walk. I like a pudgy, waddling dog as much as the next person, but to overfeed your pet to the extent that you are severely jeopardising their health is unforgivable. When reprimanded for being so abusive to her dog, the owner was appalled and offended. Of course I wished death on her instantly, and tried to banish the image of the dog trying in vain to stand up fully after laying on the floor. Biiiiiiiiiitch.

3) Television's lack of understanding when it comes to the stomachs of pregnant women: Witness - Gabrielle on Desperate Housewives and Sheila on Rescue Me. Gabrielle was supposed to be about 3 months pregnant at the very least, yet girl was not getting at least a little gutty despite being the size of a very short gnat. Somehow she managed to squeeze into her size 0 Dolce and Gabbana dress, though they made great effort to show how much of a tight fit it really was. Ohhhhh...that's ok then. See, she can fit into the dress, but barely. She really is getting fat!

Sheila on Rescue Me - opposite issue here. Sheila was maybe pushing four months, yet had the stomach of a woman at least 3 months ahead of her on a bad day. Sheila could have rested teacups and plates on her massive bump when seated, and waddled in the way the mid-2nd trimesterers wouldn't dream of doing in public. I looked down at my sad stomach which could not hold a thimble let alone a plate, and poked the little being inside and told him/her to hurry up and grow already.

As it turns out, both women had miscarriages at that alleged "almost impervious to miscarriage" stage. Yeah, thanks for that.

4) Clothes for pregnant folk, part 632 1/2: Clothing manufacturers, take note - when a woman is pregnant and wants to go up a couple of pants sizes in normal person clothes rather than resort to the fabric flaps of maternity pants, she just has a big stomach. She does not miraculously grow 4 inches taller, much as she wishes this to be true. For all the size "fat bitch" trousers I've purchased recently, my mother-in-law had to take all of them up. It seems not only am I rounder, I also oompa-loompa my way through this world on my tiny little stump legs. Also, no comments please on how my MIL has to do my alterations for me. I'm clueless at the whole sewing, cooking and general housekeeping areas. Bite me.

5) Men and boobs: Yes, they are big. Yes, they are magnificent. This does not mean I want to sop up your drool as you make no effort to disguise your staring. We are at work. Try and be professional. Perhaps they would like it if I gazed at their crotch when speaking to them, barely able to contain my excitement at what lies beneath. Wait, no. They would like that.

Right, that's the grievances over with for this time. As I ended the last post on a positive (TWoP recaps), I will do the same today.

The Dude and I were driving along the seafront yesterday on the way back to the house from Sunday dinner at the MIL's. My eyes fell upon a most fantastic creature walking alone on the promenade, wearing a lovely full-length wool coat. This creature, we call him WHYBAML. It was everything I could do to restrain myself from taking off my trousers, angling my cooch out the window and shouting, "It's all for you WHYBAML!!" while rubbing my stomach, freezing temperatures be damned. I know he would have reacted with his standard, "Let's cover you up a little" (subtext: YOU FUCKING WHORE OF BABYLON!), but it would have been worth it.

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

Love you more and more for this.

Anonymous said...

Ha ha ha, "Let's cover you up a little."

Now get your tits out of my face before I drown in drool.

charlie's mom said...

I think WHYBAML would have taken it in the right spirit.

Lut C. said...

The 'cover up' was a great episode. It probably wasn't so funny at the time.

Anonymous said...

Oh! WHYBAML! How I have missed him. I still think he and Dr. Doctor would make a lovely pair.
And I hate the too-long-jeans thing as well--as if every size 12 is 6'4". Also, I have noticed that the more expensive the jeans, the longer the inseam. WTF? Do people get taller as they get richer?
Nice rack, by the way.

MC said...

Can't stop laughing at the last image, it got under my radar.
Also loved the pissy list.

Pamplemousse said...

Rave on, my dear. if you don't, the snot will just burst forth haha!

Anonymous said...

Ha, I couldn't even contemplate watching that fat pets thing. TOo too horrible.

Are you going to watch that new IVF drama? My husband is forbidding me...

Ah TV the last resort of my so-called sanity