What’s Bugging You -She Said Edition-

Here on The Sisterwives we cover some pretty heavy stuff. We appreciate all of our readers and are so very grateful to the brave and beautiful writers that submit pieces that they pull from the deepest, and sometimes darkest, parts of their souls. We thought that maybe today we would lighten things up a bit with a little help from some friends. 

Don’t we all have something that drives us crazy, people who get under our skin, noises that make our skin crawl, and situations that just make you shake your head and wonder ‘What the fuck?’

Today some very funny people are stepping up and telling us what bugs them.

I should say some very funny women. The fellas are on deck for Thursday! So sit back and have a laugh today. You’ve earned it!

she said

 

It bothers me that we never have enough money. We live on a shoestring budget without the shoes. We don’t even have enough money for a decent six pack of beer. Our cheap suds come from my cousin’s uncle, who brews it in a basement somewhere in Cleveland.

I’m also annoyed that there’s not enough money in our budget for a family vacation to Disney World. We’ve had to substitute a trip with an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet at the bowling alley. Hopefully this year we’ll win the lottery and be able to take a trip to the Pork Hall of Fame in Baconville, Tennessee.

Marcia, Menopausal Mother

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I have a term for people who bug me. I refer to them as “jackholes,” and beware…there are jackholes everywhere. EVERYWHERE! At the grocery store, they are the ones who don’t put their carts in the cart return, so their laziness results in dents to other people’s (aka my) automobiles. They drive cars and signal that they want in your lane. When you kindly let them in, they don’t offer a courtesy wave. They think their jackhole children are the most beautiful, intelligent, and talented kids and blare you with their pride on social media, in person, at any public place, and I stand there nodding my head, feigning interest while I watch the offspring eat a booger. That’s right, they are copulating and procreating and bringing a whole new generation of jackholes into our world. The generation who won’t say “thank you” ever. They can’t be bothered to look up from their brand new iPhone 6 that already has a cracked cover because they care too little to care for anything to even answer questions, and people are giving them jobs, so I have to communicate with these little jackholitas everywhere I go.

In other irritations, I have the libido of a teenage boy and get laid about as often as a mathlete, so maybe I’m just a wee bit…frustrated. Don’t be a jackhole.

Mandi, The Sisterwives and Cellulite Looks Better Tan

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I’m trying to develop a Judgement Vaccine, to inoculate myself against other’s opinions of how I should feel, what I should do, say, watch, read, eat and how I should raise my kids. I’m a recovering Catholic so I’m no stranger to being told I’m a sinner for my semi-normal human behavior. I smile and nod and spell swear words with my tongue on the roof of my mouth like any other miscreant whore, but once in awhile I have just had enough.

Enough of being told my favorite books too violent, or I’m a sinner, or a murderer for eating meat, or that the shows I watch are dumbing down America, like whatevs h8rs. I wish I could tattoo my soul with a message like:

If you’re really worried about my mortal soul, can’t you just be happy with the fact that I will one day burn in your Hell for not being like you? Can’t you just focus on that. Look at the bright side!

Joy, Comfytown Chronicles

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Beth has a few things on her mind:

Dear checkers (especially Target), please don’t comment on my purchases. It slows the process down, and sometimes it’s embarrassing. Talk to me about the weather of something. Otherwise, leave me the fuck alone.

I’m probably going to get backlash about this, but I’m OVER door-to-door mini-salesman (i.e. children), who’ve been forced to sell popcorn, or wreaths, or candles, or whatever. I love to support my children, nieces, and nephews. But I’m tired of paying $40 for a wreath I don’t want for a child and/or organization I don’t know. Who can tell a little kid no?? I can’t. Bless their hearts. I don’t think door-to-door fundraising for schools, or cub scouts, or ANYthing should be put upon kids anymore. Screw that. It’s not safe, it’s archaic, and it’s obnoxious.

YES, I KNOW ADAM LEVINE GOT MARRIED. YES, I KNOW HE MARRIED A VICTORIA SECRET MODEL. THANK YOU FOR REMINDING ME. #MightBeBitter

Is there law I’m not aware of that states: throwing a juice straw wrapper in the trash is punishable by death? IS THERE?

The fact that iPads are the new toilet reader. EW. Gross. Stop it.

Beth, The Sisterwives and Writer B Is Me

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We should stop ‘falling back’. Daylight savings is a dick. It’s already bad enough that it happens just at the beginning of the cold and flu season. We know that ice and snow and that creepy elf on a shelf is looming, is it too much to ask to keep it light outside an hour longer?

I think it’s a plot to keep us wage slaves. We’re coming off Summer and vacations and the smell of suntan lotion and barbeques. We’ve enjoyed the beauty of Autumn and getting reacquainted with our favorite boots and sweaters. We are in just way too good of a mood. What would happen if cubicle dwellers stayed in a good mood ALL the time? Sooner or later, we would look around and say “What the FUCK are we doing in these cubicles”? And we would go out and find more fulfilling ways to live our lives. How do ‘they’ stop that from happening? They turn out the lights. No way you can stay in a good mood if you leave for work in the morning in the dark and then you don’t get to come home until it’s dark again. If we had that one last hour of light, then maybe the Winter months wouldn’t sap all the good feelings created when it’s not cold as fuck outside.

On the other hand, it’s likely that extra hour would likely be used up in traffic jams on the way home.

Michelle, Rubber Shoes In Hell

 

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 And she’s not finished yet!

We, as humans, have made some incredible advances. We have walked on the moon. We carry a world information in our pockets. We thought of putting batter on candy bars and deep frying them. It’s a good time to be alive.

Since we have all these things, would it be too much to ask for underwear manufacturers to find a way to engineer their panties without forcing us to endure the ‘taint seam’? You know what the taint seam is, it’s that little horizontal seam on the back of our panties that show anytime we wear anything in the least bit clingy. It’s like a little outline that says, Hey! this is the spot where my maxi pads end! Just below this line is my asshole!

I know this doesn’t affect women who wear thongs, but not all of us are fans of butt floss. I find it a travesty that time and effort have been put into developing something as ugly as Crocs and we still don’t have panties sans taint seams. I think we should start an anti-taint seam movement. We can appropriate this song by Blowfly as our anthem.

 

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My mother is a food pusher – if you are around her for more than five minutes, food will somehow end up in your mouth. I’m not sure how it happens – I go in with a strong resolve, determined to politely decline any offers – but before I know it, I’m chowing down on my fifth stuffed crepe, a gigantic slice of creamy cheesecake, or crispy ebelskivers. And she starts young – just today I saw her spraying whipped cream from the can straight into my granddaughter’s mouth…over and over and over. She’s got some sort of evil secret power – a way to make rational, perfectly content, non-hungry people turn into ravenous gluttons. I’m not sure how she does it – but she is damn good at it. Just ask my waist, hips, and ass – they’ll back me up!

Jana, Stop Me If I Told You This…

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This sounds so silly in the scheme of things, but seriously this shit sets.me.free. and it happens almost every fucking day I leave my house. I am talking about traffic douchebags.

I am a Jersey girl living in the Midwest where people abide by the speed limit, and think nothing of driving for miles with a turn signal clicking away like a god damn beacon from hell. Where I grew up that move would get you cursed out at the next light, and for good reason. However, the Midwest is the land of love affairs at four way stops, every car waves on the other fucking cars; no you go…no you go…no YOU go! Are you kidding me? Just FUCKING GO! If it’s your turn then you GO!

But my BIGGEST driving pet peeve, the absolute fucking worst dickhead move, is when the car in front of you at a stop light is going straight but is in the right hand lane. This move single handedly screws the person behind them that was going to make a right hand turn, but now cannot because of the asshat driver in front of them. Where’s the love now people? Where’s the consideration of others? Yeah…that’s what I thought. Looks like the nice Midwestern drivers really are like Jersey drivers, just trying to shaft you one stop light at a time. Well played Midwest, well played.

Alyson, The Shitastrophy

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I had a veritable cornucopia of things to choose from. I just couldn’t decide…

NOISY DISGUSTING EATERS

I can’t be around this. EVER.
What are you chewing, gravel? Even crunchy food should not sound like you’re eating your own teeth, Pigdog! How do you make audible tooth connections while eating a banana, something toothless infants eat? That is not chewing, it’s a cretinous mouth mangling of semisolid pulp.

And when you drink, you do NOT need to make glugging noises like you’re fisting a 2 gallon jar of mayonnaise from Costco.

Sounds are being emitted from your cake hole, heinous sounds so disturbing that everyone in a mile radius can hear them. And you’re so engrossed in your food that you’re not even aware of them? That needs to change before I accidentally stick my fork in your head.

 

GETTING CREEPED ON IN MESSAGES BY PEOPLE I’VE NEVER MET

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

First of all, I don’t speak “Kanye.”

And can we discuss the measurements? This literary Troglodyte is so irresistible how can I not go all Slutty Ketchup on his Big Mac?

I’m a card carrying MSQ (militant size queen), but 14 inches? Even if you don’t pass out from loss of blood to your brain while having an erection, are you gonna cover my ER copay afterwards? There’s “medical curiosity” length, and there’s “horrific Japanese tentacle porn.”

And regarding the message that was just a little too nasty to post, phrases like:
“Ima push yo face in da pillow wit my dick up yo ass” should be reserved for those you have a consensual relationship with. Just a suggestion.

What about this persistent Romeo who messages me, day after day? He really knows how to sweep a girl off her feet:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ooh, baby, there’s nothing as sexy as a life-threatening scourge to have me fulfill all your sexual desires like a pornography vending machine! How does this inferno of irresistible romance ever fail?!

Are you working towards your high concept masterpiece by compiling all of your ridiculous and pathetic messages?
“How to Have 100% Failure Rate in Online Dating: The Rock Opera.”

Simple anti-creeping Rule Of Thumb: If you’ve sent 3 messages and received no response, STOP. IT. Before you get stabbed in the taint.

 

And let’s not leave out:

HONORABLE MENTION:  Bacon Mania. Bacon is tasty. But it is not Jesus Christ reincarnated. Stop worshiping upon the Altar of the Holy Salted Porcine Slab-Meat.

2nd HONORABLE MENTION: People who clap in a movie theatre when the film is over. The actors cannot hear you! Who are you clapping for? The film projectionist?

Samara, The Sisterwives and A Buick in the Land of Lexus

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Any of these things sound familiar to you? 

These are some of the most fabulous women on the web and if you don’t know them, you certainly should. Click on their blogs linked above and just for shits and giggles here’s another way you can keep up with their shiz:

Here are the links to all the Facebook gold for Marcia, Mandi, Beth, Michelle, Jana, Alyson, and Samara.

While you’re at it go get comfy with Joy on Twitter.

Don’t forget to come back on Thursday and hear what has the boys all twisted up.

Until then why don’t you let off a little steam. What’s buggin’ you? Tell us about it!

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