You could help her along that road to reading by getting her a pair of teeny pink sweatpants that say “Princess” across the butt in lavender sparkles.
::: ducks and runs ::: 
Tell him that he is your present, and to come to your place so you can unwrap him! 
To all the spoiled Galleria shoppers: it’s the fucking SPCA. Yes, the non-for profit group. Everyone there except for the two staff members are volunteers, bravely fighting the Galleria traffic to proudly bring you cats, dogs, and rabbits to adopt. Will you stop fucking THROWING PENS AT US?! If that is too difficult for you, how about NOT FIGHTING OVER THE DOGS. We DO have the right to refuse to adopt out to you, and when you are acting like a 3 year old brat, waving around your crappy knock off Louis Vuitton purse and yelling, that dog is NOT going home with you.
On an aside: Thank you to all the people who came out and adopted animals, when I came in for my shift at 3:30 all the dogs were adopted out, and we only had two cats left and a bunny or two. You really help make this effort a success, and make the animals lives so much happier!
Beck, nobody should have to wash all the Xmas party dishes, just because they were the last hired. They’re just taking advantage…and you need to put them on notice. Sure, it won’t come up for another year, but time will pass. Make sure that next year they know that your three years of endentured servitude have ended.
PS- one of the reasons I like posting on this board is that the women here all have Class, Intelligence, and Self-Respect . May that never change!
Dear Santa,
I hope it is not too late to ammend my list, but the most amazing thing has just come to my attention…
Sincerely,
A Very, Very Good Dr. Jackson
It has long been our office policy that people are paid by 1:00 on Friday. I do the checks in the morning, people come in to sign them, then our VP comes in at noon and gets everyone’s money.
People have been bugging me all week about being paid by 1:00 or maybe earlier today. The VP told me he would be here by 11:00 to get the checks.
I came in early and did the checks early. I had them ready at 10:30 for the VP.
Who strolled in at 1:30, told me to go to lunch, then was waiting outside for me when I got back and put the envelopes with the cash in them in my hand outside so he wouldn’t have to face the irrate people waiting for their money.
So I had to hear all the complaints!
Time to go to the Inlaws house, where I am treated like the Houseboy and Dishwasher, Errand Bitch and all-around Slave. Where, within 10 minutes of walking into their house for the first time 22 years ago I was informed how great it was to have me around because I was tall and I can reach things that they cannot.
Where, since I don’t measure up, it’s much better to be seen than endured…er…heard from.
I fucking hate the draining endless hours until I can go to sleep every night. it’s pretty fucking sad when the best part of the trip every year is going for an icy cold walk through the neighborhood every day. Just to get out. Of. Their. House.
In no particular order, while doing their motherfucking household maintenance and chores, I have been:
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Shocked with 220 Volts ( that was worth a trip to the hospital for tachycardia
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Covered in OLD feces and mess when a sewer line cracked in the basement.
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Injured in the spine and ribs while falling off of their icy uncleaned side steps. ( which I was asked to go and salt and shovel, because after all, they’re very slippery and unsafe. :rolleyes:
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Torn up my hands chopping wood for them.
Gee. Can’t wait. 
I’m not worth their time, I know it, they let me know it, I don’t measure up in any way to the standards of the family and they’ve always been quite mystified as to why their daughter married me.
Cartooniverse
Damn. Did we marry into the same family?
A favourite around our house is “It’s beginning to look a lot like Mithras…” My MIL would keel over if she heard us singing that.
And that would mean I wouldn’t have to spend another fucking Christmas day at her house. I really like my in-laws, I do. They’re very nice people, despite being near-to-fundie. I just have NOTHING in common with them; neither does my husband who was raised by them. My SIL has two little kids, and everything revolves around them. To hell with whatever my husband and I have planned. To hell with whatever Christmas traditions I may have had all of my fucking life before moving here. Go insane with the gift giving and make me feel uncomfortable because I don’t feel we should have to toss away a ton of money during my husband’s business’ lean times and don’t lavish the gifts on everyone.
We’ll just go to their house when it’s convenient for my SIL and I’ll eat the dry turkey and mashed potatoes from a box (if there are any at all) and food that is not at all traditional to anything I’ve ever had. I’m so goddamned tired of it. I don’t even want to go, but it would crush them.
I wanna go home. Next year, maybe.
I started reading to my daughter when she was about six months old. Does your niece have anyone to read to her? But yeah, I was a tomboy when I was a girl, and I always hated the girly-girl toys and stuff. I had a lot of fun with Lincoln Logs and Tinker Toys and Legos.
“Those of us with birthdays in December know what the Three Wise Men said to Jesus: ‘Now, this is both for your birthday and Christmas.’”
- Bob Smith
It sounds, Cartoonverse and Ginger, like it’s time to make your own plans for home, and then at the last minute get “sick.” Even if you have to stick your finger down your throat and barf while on the phone to them whilst making your apologies.
And if you have to, stay home alone. It still sounds better than the “fun” you’re expected to go through!
My husband has said he’d rather stay home with me if it’ll make me happy, but I really just don’t feel like I can disappoint the in-laws and deprive them of watching the kids open their gifts. I do think, though, that we need to revisit the Christmas tradition around here, since I’m not even really Christian. I do like the cultural aspects of it, though.
I hate how my dad treats Christmas like it’s the fucking lottery.
As the years go by (I typo’d that just now as “buy”, but actually, how Freudian… ) his “reqeusts” for gifts get more and more lavish. Apparently, since he has six kids and two (count 'em TWO) are doing particularly well, he’ll tell his Only True Daughter that he wants any number of expensive things. Which we all then are expected to contribute equal amounts for.
Fuckin’ ass. You abuse and malign EVERYONE, you can’t manage your money, you whine about how much your medications cost (but damn if you don’t have satellite television and a Buick you won’t drive but won’t get rid of), you emotionally abuse your wife (who has Alzheimers!), and then you expect me to shell out money to buy you a new love seat?
Fuck you. And fuck you double for the bad feelings you are now going to cause between me and your One True Daughter (who seems to love you for some unfathomable reason) because I won’t contribute, making it cost more for those who do.
Fuck you fuck you FUCK YOU.
Well, I’ve already bitched about the gaddam Christmas music once already, so I’ll not repeat it.
But let me tell, being laid off your job on 12/22 just sucks beyond belief. SWMBO’s been out of work since Halloween. Christmas is going to bite this year…
Well, it does every year. Just different reasons this year.
I woke up feeling like shit this morning and went to the local Stat Care. Turns out I have bronchitis. So my husband has spent all day taking care of the baby while I try not to hock up a lung - and the Christmas shopping I’d planned to finish tonight isn’t getting finished, so I’m short several gifts for ElzaHub. Merry freakin’ Christmas.
E.