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Posts Tagged ‘Throat Punch Thursday’

For today’s throat punch I need a second to ask the recipient to go and get a babysitter.

I can’t chop her gullet in front of her child.

OH wait, I AM the babysitter…. Right. That’s why she’s getting the slap to the larynx.

Because she’s a complete stranger, a woman I have never met in my entire life, and she left her baby with me.  With us.

Without asking.

No I’m not kidding.

I don’t kid on Throat Punch Thursdays.

Her daughter was adorable and my child loves babies, so we went over to say hi, to make baby friends, and then to leave.

But we couldn’t leave.

Her mother was no where to be found.

I looked around, searching high a low for her boney little body, which could be hiding anywhere; in the garbage can, the fake ferns, I even checked in my purse.

Brian spotted her.

At the cell phone kiosk.

Bitch please.

If I wanted a second baby badly enough right now your precious, chubby faced, beautiful little girl would have been mine!

She would have been safe with me and I would NEVER have left her with a stranger while I looked at cases for my iphone.

BUT.

You are lucky that it was us who you left her with while your brain leapt from your head and you put shopping in front of your child’s safety.

Because I would never steal your baby.

This Throat Punch comes with a lesson in parenting you sad woman.

There are many people who would steal your baby, they are waiting for an opportunity just like this one and would have disappeared in an instant with your tiny girl.

Your child should be the most important person in your life, you never leave her with a stranger. If you need a break then call a friend, her grandparent, or a real babysitter you trust!

Your throat punch comes in the form of disappointment. From one mother to another.

That should sting more.

I am very disappointed.

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It’s Thursday people and that can only mean one thing! Ok, yes, two things. We’re closer to Friday AND I’ve got a serious Throat Punch to dole out.

This one?

It’s also coupled with a round house, triple sow cow, double axel face jab.

No, I’m not kidding.

Some people have no social skills, this is why I rarely engage in small talk, it saves me from the uncomfortable lags in conversation, the inappropriate questions or comments, and the lack of intelligence that 80% of the population seem to have.

But, occasionally, if forced by my job, or because someone’s conversations skills mesh well with mine, I throw my rules to the wind and chat away. When it’s with my job I remain reserved and keep emotion out of it, however, when I think I may have found a new friend (sigh) I use my judgement and bring out the funny according to their humour scale. I let them into my circle of hilarity.

And then sometimes my judgement fails. Sometimes there are wolves in sheep’s clothing that are pretending to be entertaining but are actually socially inept, unintelligent imposters who snuck in to the hilarity circle!

I’m ashamed to say I recently let my guard down and a wolf got in.

To the wolf, you are stealthy; however, you are also strange and awkward. When I told you I loved you because it was closer to 4:00pm than I realized I didn’t really mean I loved you, it’s a figure of speech. You were wearing the watch, I loved that you told me this wonderful news. I find it odd that you took me literally and then explained to me that I shouldn’t love you. You are weird and this is part of what began to give you away.

Next time someone attempts to read the jacket of the novel you are reading, a common interest among humans, you should not grab the book and tell them it is your personal property and that they should ask before touching it. This is strange behaviour and no way to make friends.

When someone compliments you on the shirt you are wearing and asks you where you bought it, normal people are appreciative. The wrong answer is to tell them to respect your personal space. This will keep people from coming anywhere near you. Kind of like how I’m never going to come near you again.

For your behaviour, awkward responses, and sneaky wolf moves I am giving you a massive Throat Punch.

This may not do anything, you will probably continue your strange interactions and learn nothing, but it sure made me feel better.

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It Thursday!

Who needs a punch to the Adam’s apple?

A chop to the larynx?

I’ll tell you who.

The MTO.

That’s Ministry of Transportation for you American’s.

Why?

We have a major highway here in Ontario. Its called the 401. You’ve been on it, you know you have.

It’s our version of a Freeway.

This freeway of ours is used by thousands of people every day to commute to their destinations. It becomes clogged with cars early in the morning and remains that way until late in the evening.

What could possibly make this worse?

Construction.

Approved by the MTO.

On my way to work everyday I am slowed to a crawl to pass through three separate construction sites on a major highway.

I am slowed from a speed of over 110 km/h (that’s 68 mph for you Americans) to barely 40km/h (24 mph).

And then I am annoyed.

Because I drive this part of the highway everyday. Every. Single. Day. I know what lanes to get in and when to merge.

I have no idea what the hell everyone else is doing on this road.

Or why they don’t merge when they see the HUGE orange flashing arrow pointing to the lane they should be driving in.

Or why they think their destination is THAT much more important than mine.

But I’m not going to blame the stupid drivers.

I’m not going to take it out on the empty headed idiots who attempt to go around on the SHOULDER of the highway!

I’m much more mature than that.

I’m blaming the MTO.

It’s their fault.

SO.

MTO, you get one big, sharp, jagged finger nailed throat jab and then…

A throat punch!

Progress on your road work will slow a bit while you recover from the pain.

But really, how much slower can progress get?

Here’s another throat punch for being too slow!

I’m seriously strong.

Assholes.

Linking up with The Truth About Motherhood

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When we bought our house we knew eventually we would have to find an alternate heating source. Oil gets expensive.

But, I am a freak when it comes to our budget and go over it twice a month, on pay days, with a fine tooth comb. I know exactly what comes in and what goes out, I know how much we have at all times, and I know what we can afford.

This freak side of me didn’t come naturally, it was learned. After years of hearing my father preach it and then a horrible credit card experience I finally got it!

So when we chose an oil company to provide us with oil and service it was my expectation that they would also give me an accurate quote for my monthly payment based on use. I expected the sales man who came to my house to have some knowledge of his product. I thought we all had an understanding.

Receiving a notice in the mail that my monthly payment would be tripling because the quote was underestimated was only the beginning of the many THROAT PUNCHES they are about to receive from me.

Their response to my tactful email was timely but not satisfactory, it did not resolve my issue and my bill remains at the same amount. THROAT PUNCH number 2.

When I called their offices in order to “discuss” my invoice there was no discussion. They simply told me arrangements would have to be made. I could pay now or I could pay later. Either way I had to pay. THROAT PUNCH number 3.

How can a company expect a family to pay for a bill THREE TIMES THE AMOUNT they budgeted with 30 days notice?

Why are their sales people idiots?

Do they like THROAT PUNCHES?

Oil company… I hate you. You’ve left me trapped and unable to do anything but pay you so that my family is warm this winter.

That’s a bitch move.

Enjoy your Throat Punches.

Cow.

Linking up with The Truth About Motherhood

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Today I’m linking up with The TRUTH About Motherhood for Throat Punch Thursday.

Twice in two weeks my body has been touched without my permission. (and so not in a way I would love to be writing about…ahem)

Twice I have been patted in such a way that it not only embarrasses me but it makes the tapper feel awkward and ashamed.

As they should.

This uninvited touching has forced me to make a formal public service announcement:

I am NOT pregnant.

Do not touch my belly, rub my belly, assist me by offering me a chair, or ask me how I’m feeling.

I feel fine.

You, however, are about to be red faced, head down, foot in mouth humiliated!

I had a baby 13 months ago!

I carry weight in my STOMACH!

I lose fat first in my legs, face, and chest. THAT is why my stomach looks like I have a child growing in there.

Also?

Weren’t you ever taught to never EVER mention a pregnancy unless you

A.      Hear the woman talking about it first and rubbing her belly

B.      Are at her baby shower

C.      SEE THE BABY COMING OUT

For you people who have knocked your heads too many times I am giving you a massive ninja THROAT PUNCH!

HIYAAAAAAA!

Leighann

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