Fewer Than 100 Things Filch
Whining and bitching can only ingratiate you with so many people. Usually whiners and bitches. Fortunately, I happen to love whiners and bitches.
Filch courtesy of Miss Britt's list of 100 - list #3
or, alternately titled, how to piss of the WRH:
1) Spit. Worse, snort, then spit. Have you never heard of TB? Were you raised by wolves?
2) Use the word "utilize." I'll talk about you behind your back if you verbalize the word "utilization."
3) Use the word "impact" as a verb. e.g. "The recent utilization of Fruit Loops as appropriate dinner food impacted my children's dental health." This enrages me. I am, at this moment, enraged. By my own example of that which enrages me.
4) Make me wear clothes that touch me. There's a time and a place for lycra or spandex or stretchy fibers. This ain't it. I especially can't deal with shoes that have a strap across the part where ankle and foot meet. I HATE THAT.
5) Say to me, "I don't know how you manage to work AND have a family." I dare you.
6) Women who don't dress their age. Nothing says, "blech" more than a 60 year old woman with a tramp stamp, low riders, a halter top, and waist length hair.
7) Talk on your cell phone at the gym. If you are so in demand that someone needs to reach you while you are on the treadmill, then you need to go back to work because the universe is crumbling without you there. If it's an emergency, then you need to leave.
8) Pretend like you've not only read and understand Joyce's Ulysses, but make sure everyone knows how important it is to you.
9) Knock on my door and tell my why your God is so freaking great.
10) The big one. Feign a lack of effort for things we all know require significant effort. For example: a house that is clean most of the time, ironed clothing, healthy and pretty meals, clean, well-mannered children, glamorous sounding - and even truly glamorous - jobs, weight loss, rock hard abs and biceps, fully functional happy-all-the-time-we're-so-perfect-together-every-minute-of-the-day-we're-in-sync marriages, being a well read hostess.
I just want you to know...
I've never read Ulysses and have no desire to read it. I only have three brain cells left, so all I'm good for is Tabloids and gossip rags. The end.
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James Joyce? I once dated Jason Joyce? I don't remember him being a writer. I can't wait to get old so I can wear "house coats", you will NEVER catch me dressing age-inappropriate! I love your list...I love your blog...I love WRH!
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HA HA HA!!
I love your list.
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Nevermind the gym, how about those violently offensive people who talk on cells on public transportation? No one is interested. NO ONE. I keep giving people the evil eye, but they don't seem to get it. Then I just start talking -- very loudly -- about how annoying they are (most likely becoming annoying myself I suppose).
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I'll tell you the one word that makes my skin crawl even though I'll eventually filch this post - UBER. Uber fucking anything makes me spit. If you used 'uber' in your last post I'm only kidding.
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