Saturday, September 10, 2005

Pizza gives me heartburn--before it comes!

I order pizza to cut down on stress.
That’s the whole FUCKING point.
To eliminate the decision making, mess making, blah fucking blah.
I’m beginning to realize it doesn’t always work that way.
At least half the time I call, it adds stress to my day.
“this is the wrong location for you—CLICK”.
Thanks for tell me AFTER I god damn order, you frigging jackass.
And why do the cute ones always work IN the store?
They do NOT send hotties to deliver here.
We might have friggin sexy construction workers
(everywhere but MY HOUSE, that is…)
but the pizza delivery folk are usually not porn star material..
Did I just say that out loud?
Or the other common pizza-ordering issue is:
(let’s get this train back on the tracks, eh?)
We get disconnected during the order.
But at least they called back and blamed it on me.
Shit lickers.
No, there wasn’t more than one person on the phone.
Yes, he should have been impressed with my sexy voice.
Given me free shit.
An’ shit.

my kids think that whining with hunger will actually affect how long it takes the pizza to get here.

Am I having a bad day, or is it just you?
I mean, are you having a bad day or is it just me?
Eh, whatever.
Shit piss crackwhore damn.
My throat still hurts.
Did you know it’s hard to yell at kids when you have a thore throat.
Yes, I spelled that wrong on purpose.

Fucking unfuckable pizzamen who don’t make my life easier.

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