How To Annoy Me...Even More!

I did this a while back, and it was fun, but society at large has found new and inventive ways to annoy me since then, so I'm doing it again.

Decide to write a book as though it were no big deal, when I've been struggling with it for twelve freaking years!!! (yeah, I know. it's getting old.)

Make fun of my use of the word Dude. It's a word!

Insist that "funner" is a word. Ehhhh, no.

Start a sentence with "Speaking of trailer trash, your brother said something about you the other day..." it doesn't matter at that point how flattering the compliment was, you've ruined it now, Mom!

Ask me to proofread your book and include sex you had with other women in it. I'm skipping that part and you'll get no feedback!

Introduce your girlfriend as Jenny Jamieson, and NOT expect a smirk. Come on!

Hide vibrators in my Christmas stocking and then not warn me before I empty the damn thing in front of my kid. That was a close call, and not at all amusing!

Tell me specifically NOT to buy you a router if I'm going to buy you a Dremel, and then put down the Dremel on Dec 26 to go buy yourself a router!

Roll away from me just to fart in your sleep. I know you're aiming at my ass on purpose!

Eat tater tots while playing Sims and leave my mouse all greasy. Again.

Tell me they don't sell orange Windex at Wal*Mart. That's where I buy it and I know they have it.

Try to say I snore, and somehow convince everyone else in the room to say it too. I would know if I snored.

Roll your eyes at me when I get "that look" holding someone else's baby. Wanna get rid of "that look"? Knock me up.

Force me to download a toolbar just to run spellcheck.

Criticize me for drinking at Christmas celebrations. Christmas is a time for family; family necessitates drinking.

Tell me I haven't changed a bit since high school, and expect me to take it as a compliment. I remember what I looked like in high school, do you?

Correct me when I say I like the ladybugs. They're round spotted flying bugs. Orange, red, yellow, or black, they're ladybugs, even if they are from Asia. And they've never pinched me before so I can damn well like them if I want!

Ask why I insist upon eating chocolate even though I know it will hurt my teeth. I'm female, it's chocolate, enough said.

Try to initiate conversation while I foodgasm. If I'm chewing slowly with my eyes closed, I'm not up for chit-chat, okay?

Poop on the steps to the pen, thereby forcing the other dogs to walk in it and smear it around like some grotesque finger painting. I have better things to do than douse the back porch with dishwater.

Give me your email address, make me promise to keep in touch, and then never write back. I thought I was done with that "I'll call you," bullshit when I got married!

Spend over $1000 on me for Christmas and then complain that what I spend on gifts is too much, thereby forcing me to cut back and look cheap Christmas morning.

Tell me that Christmas isn't a competition. I know it isn't but come on! I wasn't even allowed to buy you the stupid router!

Suggest we get the kid an iguana for Christmas. Easy for you to say, you'll be in a truck while I take care of it. I don't think so!

Tell me my gay nativity is blasphemous. Number One, DUH, that was the point. And Number Two, the guys from Brokeback Mountain were shepherds, Liza does have the voice of an angel, if Ellen ever births a child it will probably be without the touch of a man (and it may end up being Bowie's, who knows?), and a Tinky Winky doll was the only gay icon small enough to fit in the basket! And don't tell me Carson isn't a perfect "Star In The East". Queer Eye is filmed in New York, on the east coast.

Say James Blunt is "gay". He isn't and you obviously don't mean it literally because you say nothing when I listen to Rufus Wainwright, Mr Expert Of All Gay Music!

Insist that you're right and then offer as proof your status as a man. That thing between your legs is not a fount of wisdom, no matter what you say, and I was being sarcastic when I said that means wisdom tastes like salt and smells like bleach.

Put off a colonoscopy because it sounds uncomfortable. Go through 16 years of paps and nine months of pregnancy, not to mention childbirth during shift-change, and then complain to me about personal dignity and comfort.

Pluck the gray hairs from your chest. You look like you have mange when you do that, and I LIKE the gray.

Tell me The Daily Show isn't accurate or impartial. You watch Fox News, for gods' sakes!