What makes me angry and what else is new, Mona?


I am very honored to be an Angry Reader of the Week! Angry Asian Man is a phenomenal site Other things that make me angry:

1. Stuck-up Seattle moms. Sub-categories: a) all of them

2. Target charging me $40 for a hoodie and a sweatshirt. Those are not Target prices. If I wanted to pay that much, I would go to a higher end store, not some place where I expect the clothes to last as long as those foam flip-flops the nail salon gives you when you try to wear them as real shoes.

3. The college student at the gym who wouldn’t give me an extra white towel and full-on towel shamed me with her reply: “Ughhhh! That’s only if you’re going to the sawwwwwhhhh-na!”

“Okay, I’m going to the sauna.”

“Ughhhhhh! you’ll have to come baaaaahhhhhcccck!”

So what angers me is that young, congested valley girl voice that is probably too clogged from inhaling wieners and gets to wield her white towel power over me. I am a married, tired, worn out mother of two boys. My voice is extremely clear.

4. Male comics who use their joke bits on me instead of speaking like a real person. The minute I hear, “Well, my smartphone is ignorant!” I *clap* am *clap* done *clap*

5. “You’re really [insert “compliment” I don’t care to hear] for a comedian”. I am here to be funny not to compete in a beauty pageant I sure as hell don’t belong in.

Things that don’t make me angry: my kids! Who extend their arms to me and yell, “Give me a huggie!” Or kiss me on the lips and forget that they were only going to give me five kisses and somehow lose count. Or love their mother despite how angry and petty and unnecessarily spiteful she can be because she hugs back, kisses more, and has taught to repeat on command, “Mommy, you’re so young and beautiful. It’s just not fair for the other moms,” because their compliments are the ones that matter. Even the ones I force them to say.

50 Shades of Grey and other musings

This book doesn’t have any of my interests

On Valentine’s Day, Mike and I along with a lot of semi-horny people watched 50 Shades of Grey. Well, they were probably super horny but I didn’t take a scientific poll, other than factoring in how the crowd was mostly couples and women who looked like they yell, “WOOOOOO!” whenever they gather in Magic Mike’s name. I’ve been making fun of this book series because it deserves to be mocked and prodded, mostly for placing dumb licensed products everywhere and trying to make me horny while I’m at Target. You know what turns me on? Being in Target! By myself!

We had a babysitter thanks to my wonderful nephew who has been an incredible source of support for these two boys who worship him. I’m also very thankful he no longer has the velvet painting of a topless woman who has perfectly symmetric breasts because I don’t need my kids to see that ART DOES NOT IMITATE LIFE.

There have been so many reviews shredding this movie and while I do have a lot of opinions when something is based in Seattle (Oh she can just park right in front of that building? How convenient! How did he jog from Belltown to the goddamn marina?! Everything is soooo easy for you Christian!) but overall, it was fine. It was an event.

The biggest problem of the night was that I left my phone at home. It was an accident. I had switched bags so I didn’t have all my stuff for date night (phone, portable battery, iphone cord, second iphone cord in case the first one breaks for no goddamn reason) There’s something about not having my phone near me that makes me unable to function. I don’t need to be on it all the time. I just need to know where it is AT ALL TIMES. Because what if someone finds it, logs into my facebook and twitter and is way funnier than I will ever be? I can’t risk that. There can only be one!

But somehow I just watched the movie and didn’t think every moment about my phone and the wonderful life it was having without me. It was on my bed, taking a break, remembering about a nicer time when it was still in its package, wondering if it would belong to a 27-year-old billionaire or a naive journalism student who uses the word “alabaster” and “inner goddess,” too much but then was plucked off the shelf by mom of two who would use it often, but not as much as her two children who tap and peck and struggle with each other for control of something they did not buy but will dominate anyway.

Did you watch the movie!?

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