What’s Bugging You? -He Said Edition-
Everyone knows we are all about equal opportunity here at The Sisterwives. On Tuesday we gave the floor to the ladies and let ’em loose with what was bugging them. It would be a shame if you missed it.
Now it’s Thursday and, as promised, the guys were perfect gentlemen and waited patiently for their their turn. Grab a coffeh or other beverage of choice, sit back, and take it all in. Enjoy the lighter side for another day.
Like I said, equal opportunity…..and these guys took it to heart. Seems the girls are not the only ones with a few things workin’ their nerves.
Ladies and Gentleman, I’m here to speak to you today about butts. Specifically, I’m here to discuss banning them.
“A butt ban!” you’re most certainly thinking, “Has Twindaddy lost his mind? I mean, Scott? What the hell is his name again?”
Yes, dearest reader, I have lost my mind. But that’s not relevant to this post. Well, maybe it is. Look, I’m not sure. Whatever.
I’m sure by now every single one of you has jumped to some asinine conclusions. You’re silently screaming, “Butts are an essential component of our digestive system and we can’t survive without them!” Some of you may have even surmised that without butts JLo and Nicki Manaj wouldn’t be famous, and as that thought crosses your mind you smile because you realize how much better humanity would be if no one knew who they were. (Just kidding, JLo. I loved you in Jersey Girl.)
I’m not suggesting anything so inane as banning human tushies. Or as I refer to mine, a back with a crack. I’m suggesting we ban a different kind of butt; one that reeks and adds poisonous chemicals to the atmosphere. Just the same as human butts do.
I’m suggesting we ban cigarette butts.
“What?!?!” I hear all of you buttpuffers scream out in unison as you throw Great Value™ popcorn at your computer screen.
Relax. Believe it or not there is a reasonable rationale for this. Well, depending on your point of view.
This morning as I was driving to work, the driver in front of me threw his cigarette butt out the window. Sure, it looked neat for a moment in the dark, blazing tobacco embers fluttering in the wind. Then, just like that *snaps fingers*, it’s over. You drive over that still smoldering butt as it tumbles down the highway and you’re thinking, “Gee, I hope I don’t have a gas leak.”
Or am I the only one that thinks that? You ever have this weird feeling that you’re leaving a trail of high-octane fluid behind you that’s just waiting to be ignited by some inconsiderate ass throwing his cigarette butt out of his car window which then ignites said trail and the flame chases you relentlessly down the highway until it catches up to you and, more specifically, your gas tank thus causing your gas tank to combust and your car to explode? No? So it’s just me? Well, that sucks.
I’m digressing. Sorry.
It occurred to me that if this littering douchenozzle in front of me had a filterless cigarette he wouldn’t have a flaming butt to toss out of his window with which to ignite my phantom trail of fuel. Plus he wouldn’t be leaving trash that will take hundreds of years to decompose on our roadways.
Think of the trees.
But Twindaddy, cigarettes contain poison and the filter helps to protect the smoker!
You think that any buttpuffer out there doesn’t know that his or her cigarettes are loaded with poisonous chemicals? Hell, it says so right on the box and people still light up. It’s that person’s individual choice to slowly kill himself or herself.
But mother nature doesn’t have a choice in the matter when some jackwagon flicks a cigarette butt from his or her car window. The park ranger doesn’t choose to have a shitload of cigarette butts to clean up all the time. The street sweeper doesn’t advocate for the careless discarding of hundreds of non-biodegradable cigarette filters . The city streets were not consulted before they were buried beneath a sea of poisonous butts.
Since the majority of buttpuffers choose not to use the fucking ashtrays in their cars, I think the option to have filters should be taken away. When you buttpuffers can be responsible with our ecology and stop littering, and endangering those of us with gas leaks (real or imaginary), then maybe you can have your butts back.
Until then, I say good riddance cigarette butts.
Scott, AKA Twindaddy, Finding Twindaddy
Things that annoy me…
There is not much. I think I’m a pretty easy going guy. I would say there are moments that annoy me more than actual things. As humans, we all share this quality. If all the differences of the world races and cultures would just sit down and realize we all have the same frustrations, there would be no more fighting. Only a big assembly of people shaking their heads, laughing, and saying,
“Yeah! Me too!”
And maybe some bags of Sun Chips could be passed around, the Salsa kind of course…and possibly a bag of the Cheddar flavor as well…as well as Coca Cola for the Americans, and Fanta Orange for everyone else…and the world just might be a better place.
I mostly get annoyed with myself.
I had set the timer on my phone then put it to my ear as if I was making a call.
I get upset at other drivers on the road when they do something stupid. Then like most people I yell at them from the confines of my car. Then I yell at myself for yelling at them, because
- It’s not like they can hear me, and
- To other drivers I look like a madman, just screaming at his steering wheel. The other drivers are then possibly pondering, “What’s wrong with that guy? And why the hell does he hate his steering wheel so much? Hey, you know they make steering wheel covers if you hate your steering wheel so much! Get a steering wheel cover with Hello Kitty on it! No one can get mad at Hello Kitty! And if you did, it’s really an unfair fight because Hello Kitty doesn’t have a mouth! What a jerk you are….yelling at mouth-less Hello Kitty! That handicap kept her off TV you know!”
I hate when the batteries go out in the remote control, and then I just spend a couple of days getting frustrated, thinking it’s broken. It works when you mash the buttons down really hard for a while, so my first pessimistic thought is always: IT’S DYING! Now a days the control buttons on the actual TV are hidden, almost making you rely solely on the remote control. If you had to get up and change the channel, you need origami fingers to reach around, and down, and to the left to actually touch the Channel Up Button….which, of course you will always inadvertently hit the Channel Down Button by mistake. After about a week of struggling and watching TV on the lower numbered stations only, I realize that the batteries must be dead.
Now every house has a junk drawer, and every staple of the junk drawer is batteries. What most people don’t realize is that junk drawers sole nutriment is batteries and pencil sharpeners. So, if you need two AAA batteries for your remote control, chances are that your junk drawer has eaten one of them.
Which leads me to my final annoyance:
Having to go to the store when all I need is one battery.
Chris, Long Awkward Pause
This is going to sound strange, but if you really want to annoy me . . . do the dishes. I’m one of those weird guys that has an OCD approach to the kitchen but I’m still attracted to women. In fact it’s so bad, I even piss off my gay friends. Nobody can clean the kitchen but me. You can clean it if you wish, but I will do it again. I will, no shit, pull the dishes back out of the cabinet and rewash them. No, you may not “help” me by “drying and putting away”. You can help me by getting the hell out, because when the dishes are done I’m going to be scrubbing the counters, stove, etc. In the corners, in the gaps. No, m’Dears, this is not Spring cleaning, this is E.V.E.R.Y. day. If you cannot perform surgery without the risk of infection on the counter, I am not done. The faucet will shine like the day it was installed. Invite me to stay at your house for the weekend, and your kitchen belongs to me, and I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.
Also, if I am done with the kitchen and have sat down for the evening afterwards and you go in there and put so much as a knife in the sink, or get a drop of water on the counter, I may very well need to be hospitalized. Be warned.
I consider myself a tolerant person. For example, I have four teenagers who are still alive. I think that says something. However, before the Vatican announces my Sainthood, there are definitely things that bug the shit out of me:
A political landscape that resembles barkers at a carnival midway.
Journalism evolving into something closer to Facebook posts.
I’ve learned to tolerate these things because I don’t have control over any of them. At least not unless I get within arm’s reach of Justin Bieber. Still, there are things that bug me because I DO have control over them yet do nothing to avoid them. Why? Because it’s so easy that I keep putting it off. Here are three:
- Switching the car heater on for the first time each fall and having the personal affects of a mouse blow into my face. Usually while I’m driving.
- Walking onto the porch each December and freaking out after stepping in a decomposing pumpkin carcass.
- Laying in bed and listening to what sounds like a group of drunk cats playing Twister under the house.
Though it’s too late to avoid that first one this year, there’s still time to throw our jack-o-lantern at those cats before Thanksgiving.
Do we know some of the greatest people or what? Keep following the funny with these guys. I promise no disappointment. All their blogs are linked up and you can also follow Ned on Facebook.
Scott (don’t you just still want to call him TD??), Eric, and Chris serve up more great stuff on Twitter.
So there you have it. She Said and now He Said. Or, to be fair, He Said and She Said. Any way you word it, what a fantastic time! Now that we’ve managed to lighten things up a little why don’t you let us know what you think.
Did you enjoy the lighter side? Should we do it again soon?
Yeah. I think so too.