Epitome of...

Main Entry:
epit·o·me\
Pronunciation:
\i-ˈpi-tə-mē\
1 a: a summary of a written work b: a brief presentation or statement of something2: a typical or ideal example : embodiment 3: brief or miniature form

Epitome of Bad Cook: Was in the commissary and was looking through the quick fix meal kits... as there are just those days that cooking a full dinner is more than I an bear. I grabbed some Supper Bake kits, and looked up to see the most horrid thing I could imagine- "Microwave Hamburger Helper". Now you have to be having a bad day, in a mood for bachelor food, or hard up for choices to make Hamburger Helper at all, but who the fuck is so bad a cook that they can't use a frickon skillet? Hamburger? In the Microwave? Fuck-ing-gross.

Epitome of Asshole Driver: Passes you on the road- with a dirty look- as if he ass was on fire, only to end up right in front of you at the gate, go into the same parking lot, and circle. Once, Twice, Three times... by third trip around, I stopped for a spot opening up behind him, turned on my blinker and waited. The prick tries to put his piece of shit Audi into reverse, and acts as if he is expecting me to back up. I made sure to smile at the son of a bitch on the way into the clinic while he continued sharking the parking lot.

Epitome of Bad Taste: Now we've all heard the horror stories of old men wearing black socks with sandals. Let me refresh you with a new visual. Large older woman in a tank top t-shirt, and shorts. Not so bad, you say? Well, take away the bra under that tank top, and add to it the age of about 50ish, and all the saggin' that goes with it. Now picture it in a grocery store reaching for produce.*shudder* Run. Run Away.

Epitome of Pussification: It's called the "Military Honor and Decency Act". Some loud mouthed asshole in the south is trying to get Playboys and Penthouses banned from being sold in military stores. He thinks his tax dollars are paying for Porn. Being the fact that the military supports AAFES (as much as they suck ass), I think someone needs to roll up a Playboy and smack him across the nose with it like a dog. The son of a bitch doesn't live on base, work on base, go on base... But some bible thumpin zealot- likely some plasticized rich bitch soccer mom- got some politician's panties in a roar to champion a cause that needs have no voice. "It's all about the kids." Fuck you. It's the military, not romper room. Stop trying to pussify the few little bits of adult entertainment these guys get. I am not saying put Debbie Does Dallas on the shelf- but Playboy? Seriously? I see more graphic shit on BBC Television.

Epitome of Stupid Parent: My son came home the other day and left his pants in the laundr... well, on the floor of the laundry room. When I picked them up to wash them, a bunch of little neon yellow pellets fell out of the pockets. I asked him where they came from- he said they were laying around at the park on the ground. So, some twat has seen fit to give their kid a frickon pellet gun to take the the park where little kids play. My son swears he doesn't know where they came from, and none of his friends have a BB gun... Great job there Dad. If for no other reason than to litter a play place with choking hazards for toddlers- God help those asshats if I find out someone brings a pellet gun anywhere near my kids. Stellar parenting there.

Epitome of Bad TV: I thought Eurosport showing snooker and curling sucked. I have seen a whole new low in entertainment. The AXN network here has a program of backgammon. Like watching paint dry... But the crux of it is, they try to play it up to be all exciting, with some tard narrating it like it's a sporting event of Olympic scale. Gets all dramatic and shit as if it is going to come to blows any second- this dorky looking peck with a cane and a cheap suit flashing in to talk and add that special flair of... ugh.... They set it in a warehouse- on a $10 card table and folding chairs... I'd rather have a fucking mammogram... and my husband watches it. I should deprogram the channel from the TV.

Epitome of Stress: Two months until moving, only half of half of the shit done to organize, and every time I seem to get one thing done, I find 2 more projects that need done. Finding many jobs in the ND paper in the exciting and fast growing industry of food service, but not much else. Trying to figure out how long we'll have to rent a POS apartment until we can get housing there... and what all is entailed in shipping cats with the family.