Your Bed

Let's all venture back into AnalogyLand..

Say you want a new bed, so you scour the internet and visit furniture stores and talk to friends and you find THE bed.

And everyone hates it.

Everyone tells you that it's the most uncomfortable bed ever made.

And it's fugly.

That's right, fugly, AKA - fucking ugly.

But you won't listen. You don't care, you want THE bed.

So you buy it.

And guess what?!?!

It's the most uncomfortable bed ever made.

And it's FUGLY!!!

What do you do?

I'll tell you what you do:

If you're a woman:

You sleep in the damn bed, because you fucking made it and you have far too much pride to admit that you paid a fucking fortune for a fugly and uncomfortable bed.

If you're a man:

You bitch and moan and complain and then you sleep on the couch and make your wife sleep in the fugly, uncomfortable bed that YOU made. And then you bitch and moan and complain about how you didn't get a good night's sleep and how it gave you a cramp in your neck.

And oh yeah:

Fuck you Friday.

Fuck You Friday

This little meme is one I used to love and this week I'm so very excited that I remembered it, because if ever there was a Friday that needed to be give a big ole finger, this is it.  (Incidentally, it's really called "Fawk You Friday", but Christy and Boobies know that I don't Fawk, I Fuck, and they're okay with that, because they love me.)




Fuck you HOSPITALS.  You smell, and you make me nervous and seriously, I know that a hospital should be health conscious and everything, but when your husband is in ICU, you need a fucking cigarette.

Fuck you KNOW-IT-ALL-HEALTHCARE-PROFESSIONALS.  I realize that you work in the healthcare industry and that you have seen alot of patients and know where this road is going.  But you don't know me.  And my husband's poor decisions are not my fault, he's 36 fucking years old and I am not his mother.  I can not and will not MAKE him do anything.

Fuck you BOSS MAN.  You're a hypocrite.  You keep everything in your world secret, but then want detailed twice daily updates on my husband's condition? And then you try to make me feel bad that I don't have more information?  And then you turn around and tell the whole office everything that I've told you?
Fuck you.

Head on over to My Mad Mind and get your own button and tell your Friday exactly where to stick it.