Want to find me.. I will be at the bar with a glass in my hand, but not eating the nuts... bar nuts are sort of scary.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Plotting Revenge.

Hold on to your britches Mildred, this is going to be a bumpy ride.

Disclaimer:  For those that are faint of heart… look away now.  Or get out your smelling salts.  This post is never going to make it to Martha Stewart Living.

Some days just don’t go the way you want.  It’s a like black fly in your chardonnay – as Alanis would say.

Do you know what this is?


This is a little bugger that had the audacity to park her green arsed car half across my driveway this morning…

And this?


Might not look like much now that I have had to run my car over it 4 times… it is the mountain of gutter snow that I had to negotiate because little arsed green car parked half her arse across my driveway.

Every time I drove in and out of my driveway today… I cursed that little arsed green car. 

“What did you say, mummy?”  Nothing dear… just talking to myself.  Can’t have Miss Eight repeating anything that might get me into big trouble with Dear Mr Husband. It is bad enough that she learnt to say SHIT at the appropriate time….when she was three.  Hey!  At least she used it appropriately.

But back to the little arsed green car. 


I sat in my kitchen, drinking my cup of tea, and starting thinking about all the things I was going to do to that car.  I gave that little arsed green car my evil eye for all I was worth.  I considered using my ‘so my neighbour maintains’ woefully inadequate snow shovel to bury it.  I reckon I could have turned that whole car into one of those nice ice carvings you see in China. 

But that was too good.  I wondered what would happen if I poured a year’s supply of red cordial into that little gap in the window – then stuck in paddle pop sticks.. she would have a giant icy pole on wheels!


At 5pm, just as I had finished negotiating that HUGE pile of snow and the narrow gap to my driveway for the 7th time today…a lanky brunette strutted across the street, pulled out her keys, jumped in her little arsed green car and drove off. 

I stood on the side of the street and waved my tiny fist in the air….

“Yeah! baby… run, run away… you want some a this!!!  I brought two kids into the world…. I have no problem taking out your  little arsed green car!”

She was scared….. I could tell….. shakin’ in her boots. I swear she nearly swerved off the road in fear… or maybe she just hit that patch of black ice at the end of the street.

I showed her!

There is something very liberating about saying ‘arsed’.  I think I should say it more often.



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