Snickerfodder

I’m back, bitches.

It’s been a helluva year. Lemme share some of my miseries with you:

 Blog Clusterfuck
 2 carpal tunnel surgeries
 Shingles, again (yay, me!)
 The Dingus lost his job
 Moved the famdamily to Richmond, the armpit of America
 My dreamhouse sits empty, 3 hours away, waiting to be sold
 Been in this shithole 4 months, and still not unpacked; took 2 months to find my pots and pans, for crissake — they were in a box labeled,     “Office Supplies” — silly me! (those Romanian bastards who packed us up must still be laughin’ their slavic asses off)
 My kids are homesick as hell, and they bitchbitchbitchmoanfightfightfightcrybitchbitch 24/7
 Convinced I suffered mercury poisoning as a child, thus enabling me to cause all electronic gadgetry in my general vicinity to malfunction. Been through 4 cell phones and 3 laptops in just under 2 years — not a one mishandled; they just STOP working
 Just broke another molar (this is my 3rd one; Twizzlers and popcorn, be damned!); must shell out $1300 for a crown this time (it better be bejeweled)
 My favorite misfortune: DIVORCED The Dingus’s clan of soul-sucking vampires family (wait…listen…do you hear the faint strains of the Hallelujah Chorus too?)

It’s taken me a full year to get my shit together and get back to writing. I hereby dedicate my quality time to myself and to my ‘craft’, my ‘therapy’.

I hereby clear my schedule to make writing my priority. (Okay, okay, it can come after that mom-thingy, but then that’s it; The Dingus is on his own.)

Henceforth, The Viv Shall No Longer Participate In Any of These

Time- and Life- Suckfests:

ALL clubs, groups, committees, panels and pseudo-governing boards
• Dumbass ‘parties’ schlepping food/jewelry/purses/candles/lingerie/sex toys/BPA-laden plasticware
• Volunteer ‘OPPORTUNITIES
• Any activity where I may trade work in exchange for money

One thing this move has helped me to do is to JUST SAY NO

And I’m not even nice about it anymore.

Our neighbors held a friendly bonfire a couple of weeks ago. One chick asked me to join the HOA’s ‘Women’s Club’.

I blew out a mouthful of wine and friggin’ SNORTED, I laughed so hard.

I told her I’d have to check with my parole officer. It was too easy. I didn’t have to Just Say No; I didn’t even have to show off my homemade house-arrest ankle bracelet — which I was kind’a pissed about; I worked really hard on it.

Too easy!

After that, I didn’t need to further kibbitz and make nice with my new neighbors.

They gave me wide berth and let me swig in peace until the marshmallow skewers came out; then they all swarmed to protect their young’uns, afraid I might just fork the little fuckers.

The Viv is back, and she says,

FORK EVERYTHING!

You ever happen upon an ‘Under Construction’ website?

(The answer would be ‘yes’ if you’re here.)

Frustrating, isn’t it?

Know what’s even MORE frustrating?

Having the website that you’ve been building and nurturing for

TWO YEARS

go

POOF!

UP

IN

SMOKE.

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!

GONE.

JUST.

FUCKING.

GONE.

Let’s say it together, boys and girls:

EPIC.

FUCKING.

FAIL.

I have been working very hard on building my writing platform.  Just last week, once my UNDER-CONSTRUCTION LIFE settled for — ahh! just a moment –  I bought the http://snickerfodder.com domain for $25 a year.  (It’s MINE.  ALL MINE.  Long as I keep coughin’ up the annual $25, that is.  Thanks, WordPress!  Could’a gotten it from godaddy for $9.99, but it’s SO much more convenient through the WonderFuck system!)

TWO YEARS!

ALL THAT WORK FOR NOTHING!

Hey, WordPress, you premiere blogging platform!

Know what would be a GREAT idea?

A cute, little button

– just like the one on your publishing page —

that allows the writer to

 

PREVIEW

 

how her site WOULD look with a brand new theme, if she so chose to install it.

Unfortunately,

the minute you TRY ON a different theme,

it’s automatically YOUR NEW THEME.

I WANT to blame WordPress, but really,  

the blame falls upon The Viv because she’s

 too STUPID

to understand all there is to know about internet publishing.

Luckily, my posts are still on the site (and, as they are such phenomenal examples of fine writing, I’d hate to lose such quality material).

NOW, the only way to go is to

 start from scratch…

AGAIN.

Damn, why didn’t I major in code?

Alright! 

Fuckit!

JUST. FUCK. IT.

I don’t know why I even try.

ALL I wanna do is  WRITE!

WHY THE FUCK

 CAN’T I DO IT,  

FOR CHRISSAKE?

18 Reasons WHY

The Viv 

Hasn’t Written SHIT

For Months:

1)  Carpal tunnel surgery on dominant hand and recovery (June – September 2011)

2) My inability to JUST SAY ‘NO’ to every person who begs for my help with this committee or that

3) I volunteer for toogoddammuch

4) I am on 3 frickin’ boards, and I am the secretary for TWO of’em, AND I’m the chair of the Community Service Committee for my kids’ PTO.  (Yeah.  I really snowed them PTOtards, didn’t I?)

5) My demonspawn require me to transport them to all the shit I signed’em up for — and THEN I hafta WATCH???  Jeeeeezuuuuus…

6) I am throwing THE MOTHER OF ALL BRIDAL SHOWERS for my baby cousin.  It’s gonna be bigger and better’n my own flippin’ wedding.   I must remember to thank her for the daily glue-high I’ve gotten this summer.

7)  I have devoted much of my post-op recovery time to learning about various platform-building, marketing and social media outlets available on the net.  And I activated accounts on every fuckin’ one o’them sumbitches.  They require enormous amounts of monitoring and updating.  I now have so many social media accounts, I have a book that tracks which personality, handle and password I plugged in to which site.  Although, it’s fairly easy to remember that I probably haven’t used  my “FISTING ROCKS!” log-on for the homepage of my girls’ elementary school…

8 ) The Dingus just got ‘restructured’ and ‘severanced’ from his company.  At first, I was elated.  HE was FREE from bondage!  Then I realized that he’d now be home every, miserable day for the next 5 months.  Viv, meet BONDAGE.

9) The Dingus now insists that we spend more ‘couple’ time and exercise together (retch).  I don’t need to tell you that if my hands are busy exercising his two gonads, THEY AREN’T FUCKING TYPING.

10) The ANIMALS(read husband and children) with which I live are feral.  Not a domestic, nesting gene among them.  They don’t take care of or clean up ANYTHING!  All I do is run around and clean up THEIR shit!   I’d say they are pigs, but in actuality, pigs are quite clean.  And I HAVE pigs.  Guinea pigs.  They LIKE their living area neat and tidy.  Plus, they eat their own shit – BONUS! 

11) I’m too picky about the layout and format of my posts.  I have several posts in the hopper, but I keep tweaking them until the wonderful WordPress wonderfucks can’t publish’em THE WAY I GODDAM WANT THEM ’cause I’ve edited and saved too many times for them, and the numbfucks can’t keep up.  ***This post looks NOTHING like the draft on MY screen. 

12) I take so goddam long to get a ‘perfect’ post, by the time I finish one, it’s no longer timely.

13) There is no 13.

14) There is no 13 because OCD-me couldn’t end a list with an odd number.

15) I piss away my precious time on shit just like this.

16) FUCK OCD.

See?  Now I’m too tired to write!  OOOH!

17) I’m too tired to write.

18) FUCK!

 I have no idea from whence the following little gems came to me.  I copied and pasted them, slapped red on the titles and put’em out there.  Word police, come git me.  I could use a prison vacation.

 

 

 
   

WOMAN’S PERFECT BREAKFAST 

She’s sitting at the table with her gourmet coffee.

Her son is on the cover of the Wheaties box.

Her daughter is on the cover of Business Week.

Her boyfriend is on the cover of Playgirl.

And her husband is on the back of the milk carton. 

 

 

WOMEN’S REVENGE 

‘Cash, check or charge?’ I asked, after folding items the woman wished to purchase.

As she fumbled for her wallet , I noticed a remote control for a television set in her purse.

‘So, do you always carry your TV remote?’ I asked.

‘No,’ she replied, ‘but my husband refused to come shopping with me, 

And I figured this was the most evil thing I could do to him legally..’

 

 

UNDERSTANDING WOMEN  (A MAN’S PERSPECTIVE)

I know I’m not going to understand women..

I’ll never understand how you can take boiling hot wax,

Pour it onto your upper thigh, rip the hair out by the root,

And still be afraid of a spider.


 

MARRIAGE SEMINAR

While attending a Marriage Seminar dealing with communication,

Tom and his wife Grace listened to the instructor,

‘It is essential that husbands and wives know each other’s likes and dislikes.’

He addressed the man,

‘Can you name your wife’s favorite flower?’

Tom leaned over, touched his wife’s arm gently and whispered, ‘It’s Pillsbury, isn’t it?

 

 

CIGARETTES AND TAMPONS 

A man walks into a pharmacy and wanders up & down the aisles..

The sales girl notices him and asks him if she can help him.

He answers that he is looking for a box of tampons for his wife…

She directs him down the correct aisle.

A few minutes later, he deposits a huge bag of cotton balls and a ball of string on the counter.

She says, confused, ‘Sir, I thought you were looking for some tampons for your wife?

He answers, ‘You see, it’s like this, yesterday, I sent my wife to the store

To get me a carton of cigarettes, and she came back with a tin of tobacco

And some rolling papers; cause it’s sooo-ooo–oo- ooo much cheaper.

So, I figure if I have to roll my own ………. So does she.

(I figure this guy is the one on the milk carton!)

 
 

WIFE VS. HUSBAND 

A couple drove down a country road for several miles, not saying a word..

An earlier discussion had led to an argument and

Neither of them wanted to concede their position.

As they passed a barnyard of mules, goats, and pigs,

The husband asked sarcastically, ‘Relatives of yours?’

‘Yep,’ the wife replied, ‘in-laws.’

 
 

WORDS 

A husband read an article to his wife about how many words women use a day….

30,000 to a man’s 15,000.

The wife replied, ‘The reason has to be because we have to repeat everything to men…

The husband then turned to his wife and asked, ‘What?’

 
 

CREATION 

A man said to his wife one day, ‘I don’t know how you can be

So stupid and so beautiful all at the same time.

‘The wife responded, ‘Allow me to explain.

God made me beautiful so you would be attracted to me;

God made me stupid so I would be attracted to you!

 

 

WHO DOES WHAT 

A man and his wife were having an argument about who

Should brew the coffee each morning..

The wife said, ‘You should do it because you get up first,

And then we don’t have to wait as long to get our coffee.

The husband said, ‘You are in charge of cooking around here and

You should do it, because that is your job, and I can just wait for my coffee.’

Wife replies, ‘No, you should do it, and besides, it is in the Bible that the man should do the coffee.’

Husband replies, ‘I can’t believe that, show me.’

So she fetched the Bible, and opened the New Testament and showed him at the top of several pages, that it indeed says ‘HEBREWS’.

 
 

THE SILENT TREATMENT 

A man and his wife were having some problems at home

and were giving each other the silent treatment.

Suddenly, the man realized that the next day, he would need his wife to wake him

at 5:0 0 AM for an early morning business flight.

Not wanting to be the first to break the silence (and LOSE), he wrote on a piece of paper,

‘Please wake me at 5:00 AM.’ He left it where he knew she would find it.

The next morning, the man woke up, only to discover it was 9:00 AM and he had missed his flight Furious, he was about to go and

see why his wife hadn’t wakened him, when he noticed a piece of paper by the bed.

The paper said, ‘It is 5:00 AM. Wake up.’


As Hide and Go Seek champ alone,

bin Laden

deserves

a

shrine.

 

 

 

  

 

If The Viv’d had her druthers,

I’d’ve had him

embalmed ALIVE

and

stuffed

inside a

GLASS CASKET.

 

 

Then, I’d give that

sick fiqh 

the ‘shrine

he

DESERVES:

 

 

  On display,

smack in the middle

 of

Ground Zero,

 for all of America

to

vilify

and

to

defile!

 

 

 

But, buried at SEA

 

C’mon!

 

You mean to tell me that it was that easy?

 

Nay, folks, methinks NOT!

 

SURELY, bin Laden’s body is being stored in Area 51,

or at the very least,

he’s stuffed into the back of Obama‘s closet.  

 

 

You mean to tell me that NO ONE at the White House wanted to shove a stick up his pucker, dip’em in gold and have him mounted to a pedastal?

 

 

Will Madame Toussaud have him on display?

 

 

 

 

Happy Festivus

The holiday for the rest of us

 

Stick this pole up yer hole!

 

 

 

 

 

I just love the AOG — The Airing of Grievances.

 

Nothing spreads the spirit of Festivus like blasting those around you with blistering words.   I keep a running list of grievances all year long.  Below are my biggies.

 

 

The Viv’s Top 5 Grievances of 2010

 

 

5.  To my daughters:  I’m sick of pickin’ up your goddamn clothes from the floor.  There’s either a Hannah Montana or a Disney Princess hamper in your bedroom.

Learn it.  Know it.  USE IT. 

 

 

 

4.   To the mothers of the gymnasts on the competition team:    You’re not the athletes, so stay out’a the fuckin’ gym.   Stop tryin’ to snag the attention you didn’t get in high school through your just-a-shade-lighter-than-chubby daughters.   You’re bitches.  And, NEWSFLASH:  You’re fat.

 

 

3.   To neighbors who own corner lots: Look out the windows on both sides of your house.  See that sidewalk?  It’s YOURS.  Pull the shovel out’a your ass and put it to work.

 

 

2.  To whatever beauty-school-dropout I draw when I walk into Hair Cuttery:  “It’s Cuttery, bitch; not ‘BUTCHERY’.”

 

 

1.  To my husband, my darling Dingus

 

 ‘Drip-Dry’ does NOT apply to your pucker. 

 

Wipe, Motherfucker, WIPE!   

 

TWICE, if that’s what it takes! 

 

Unless YOU’D rather scrub the Hershey Swirls in your underwear –

for the love of God, man – WIPE!

 

 

 

 

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