Stoppit. Stop it now. The aching and the cramping. Cease this at once, you've been given reasonable amounts of sensible food. I think. Shit, when did I last eat. I know I ate yesterday, but you never grumble about not having breakfast, so what gives?
WTF? Why the hell are you all sore and achey? I know I lifted a bunch of stuff this weekend, but nothing felt too heavy. You stop that, and give me back my proper shoulder mobility. I like being able to raise my arm without grimacing.
I am reasonably certain you put some sort of tracking device in my water bottle that attached to my bladder and tells you when I need to pee so that you may take that opportunity to all call at once. Since I am the only one here, those of you who are slightly less quick on the draw must wait and wait and wait while I gouge my arms with my nails because the other line won't. Stop. Ringing. I know you are calling one another and giggling as you synchronize your watches and plan to have five people call at 10:57 exactly. NO PEST CONTROL FOR YOU!
Dear Honey Roasted Peanuts,
Damn you for being so delicious. I've eaten ten of your brethren thus far, and you still tempt me with your sweet, salty, fatty tastosity. That is a word I made up just for you.
Dear Fax Machine,
I have never used you before. I need to use you now, to send these documents. Please to not explode, and please do not fax these work reports to somewhere in Madagascar. Madagascar does not need or want them.
P.S. Seriously. Please work. PLEASE. I NEED YOU TO FUNCTION OH GOD I HATE FAXES SO MUCH *sob*
Whatever the fax tells you is a damned dirty LIE. It was ON, I heard it DIAL, it made the FAXY NOISES, and then NOTHING HAPPENED. Nothing. I am sure I did something incorrectly, but if the machine tells you I threatened it with sports equipment and a very large cat, it is LYING.
I threatened it with TWO cats.