I (Sara) would just like to point
out that even though I’m the one who apparently bothers everyone else with
E-mails all day, I receive a rather high number of fairly pointless E-mails
myself. What’s that joke about the kettle and the pot
again?
Anyways, here’s a meditation from
our Mother about the usage of caps lock:
Sara:
The world is really unfair, isn’t
it?
Mom:
No, the media are
biased
Sara:
Ooooh, and I’m sure it’s just an
overwhelming liberal bias, keeping those poor unappreciated and disadvantaged
conservatives down!
Mom:
Sara:
Very
mature.
I DON’T WANT TO BE AT WORK I JUST
WANT TO GO TO PULLMAN
Mom:
Sara:
I wrote a poem about going to Pullman. That's how checked out I am.
Mom: ARE YOU GOING THIS WEEKEND?
Sara: Are you trying to be funny?
Mom:
NO, DID I MISS
SOMETHING?
Sara:
…yes. Yes you did. Dad and Lindsay
know. How did you not?
Mom:
SAME WAY YOU MISS THINGS ALL THE
TIME, SO TELL ME
Sara:
I’m leaving tomorrow night to go to
Pullman
Mom:
NOT IN FRONT OF ME. HOW LONG WILL
YOU BE GONE?
Sara:
Okay you can chill with all the
caps…til Sunday.
Mom:
CAPS ON BECAUSE ENTERING IN CAPS ON
SPREADSHEET. TOO LAZY TO TAKE CAP LOCK OFF
Sara:
Good god mother. It’s like you WANT
us to post all of your ridiculous shenanigans on the
blog.
Mom:
How is typing in caps fodder for
blog? You are pretty desperate for material. Maybe your family is more normal
than you think.
Sara:
Because this is what everyone sees
in their head when you do it.
Mom:
What a
whiner
Sara:
OH MY GOD MOM YOU CAN’T JUST GO
AROUND CALLING PEOPLE WHINERS IT’S NOT POLITE AND IT MAKES PEOPLE FEEL LIKE
POOP.
See what I
mean?
Mom:
You are
poop.
Later, Mom continued to harass Dad with her capital letters.
Dad: I did not sleep well, my neck is killing me..
Mom: GO TO THE DOCTOR,
BUT STOP WHINING TO ME. I HAVE MY OWN PAIN ISSUES, THANK
YOU*
Dad: This is the level of care and concern I get from my wife...
By the time Lindsay started
E-mailing Sara demanding entertainment, Sara had decided to take Mom’s affinity for caps
lock and put it to use.
Lindsay:
I saw this on a pink sticky note in
the kitchen at work the other day.
"Eat as many cherry's as you like! They're delicious!" (there was a bag of communal cherries)
"Eat as many cherry's as you like! They're delicious!" (there was a bag of communal cherries)
- and then below that someone
added on:
"You mean
cherries?"
LOLZ
LOLZ
Sara:
Grammar Nazis
everywhere!
Lindsay:
The chicken breasts you cook make me
sad and so I'm going to start giving you recipes for them so you can stop eating
boring, gray chicken.
Sara:
Dude…the fuck…my chicken breasts
aren’t that bad…
Lindsay:
They're not bad. But they're
sad.
Sara: YOU’RE SAD.
WHAT THE FUCK DUDE, ALL I DO IS LIVE MY LIFE AND MAKE SOME GODDAMN CHICKEN. WHAT
IF I LIKE IT GREY? WHAT IF I JUST DON’T HAVE THE ENERGY OR TIME TO PUT INTO A
BIG FANCY RECIPE?? I’M TIRED AS ALL FUCK WHEN I GET HOME. JESUS JUMPED UP
FUCKING CHRIST, DID I ASK YOU TO JUDGE MY CHICKEN?? DID I ASK YOU FOR A MORE
EXCITING ALTERNATIVE? NO. FUCK NO. YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU CAN TAKE YOUR “FUN”
CHICKEN AND SHOVE IT RIGHT UP YOUR FUCKING ASSHOLE, WHILE I KEEP EATING MY POOR
NEGLECTED GREY CHICKEN. FUCK OFF.
Lindsay:
Angry Sara is
angry.
Sara:
I get very maternal about my
chicken.
Lindsay:
I was just trying to improve the
quality of your life by being a caring sister.
Sara:
GODDAMNIT I WANT TO BE DRUNK
NOW.
*These issues will be addressed further in the next guest post, courtesy of The House Dragon.
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