The Complaining and Bitching Thread

Me, when I cook, I like to try and keep the kitchen clean while I do it. I'm not one of these disaster area sorts. When I am done cooking, the kitchen is nearly as clean as it was when I started.

That said, I hate it when you're cooking tomato sauce and you walk into the kitchen to find it bubbling just a little too aggressively so you lift the top off the saucepan to make sure it hasn't burned on the bottom and 'boom!' you have tomato sauce spattered all over the stove. Pah.

 

I love destroying the kitchen when I'm cooking. That being said, I'm a master at mise en place, and I'm learning to be cleaner. I will, however, clean up the kitchen entirely when I am done. It's kinda my routine.

People who like to spread out on their elbows at bars irritate the fuck out of me. Actually, this complaining and bitching thread needs more "fuck". FUCK.

 

I hate cleaning the fucking kitchen after cooking, the fucking cleaning while I cook thing thus evolved.

 

Fucking eh. The hubs is totally appalled at my cooking. So I'm fucking evolving. Fuck. Fuckity fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

 

I think I'm getting sick. Fuck.


Fuck.

 

I wish I had something else to fucking complain about. I'm feeling pretty fucking good.
Surely there is something...

 

This leaving home before Sun up, returning after Sun down is getting old. And why is my phone capitalizing Sun?

 

I am really annoyed that someone I want to fuck lives almost 1000 miles away.

 

What the hell died inside me over night? Gross!

 

The governor of my state is a fucking prick. There, that's something to complain about.

 

Scott is the epitome of a fucking douchebag.

 

Don't come over to my place, have me make you dinner and let you flop on my couch so you can go into a smartphone coma. That shit is rude.

Guests: I'm getting a cellphone bowl and your shit will go in there and you will not touch it until your ass is out the fucking door.

 

To continue what Plan9 just said...

Don't sit your smartphone on the table in front of you in a meeting with the ringer turned off but the virbator still on. That's just as fucking distracting as hearing the phone ring.

Fucking attention whores.

 

Fuck you, Social Casualties of Technology. I'm only here to polish my debate (argument) skills.

"If I can't smell it that means I can't eat it, fight it or fuck it... I've got no use for that in my life."

...

Also: Fuck that old Oregon Trail game. It was super wasteful to shoot a buffalo. It always irked me.

 

*measures distance from Texas to S. Carolina*
1000 miles isn't so far.

 

I hate this SO much.

If you're with friends, who are you texting? Why do you want to play words with friends or drawsomething?

I admit I am addicted to my phone. I just tell myself, "ZS, who do you think you are? Do you really think you're so goddamned important?"