Mother F@#$ing Mondays

M.F.M. is my new thing.  My shtick, if you will (no, not that stick, stop being so dirty all the time – no wait, don’t stop, that’s your most endearing quality).  Think along the lines of Go Fuck Yourself Friday, but Monday instead.  Try and keep up. 

So, what is Mother Fucking Monday all about, you ask?  Well, I’m glad you did.  Shut it if you didn’t, I’m pretending here, and it’s my blog so I’ll do whatever the hell I want.  M.F.M. is about Mondays (duh) that are a pain in the ass. 

Take today, for example.  After staying up far too late on Sunday, and sleeping in far too long this morning, Monday was off to a rocky start.  Stupid disposable razor fucked up my neck.  Got to work and people called in sick, which means twice as much work for me.  Coffee machine decide to work, but there’s no creamer.  And coffee without creamer is like non-alcoholic beer: as in, a really stupid idea.  What the fuck is the point of beer without alcohol?  The only reason to drink beer is to get tipsy/drunk/falling-down-shitfaced, right?  It sure as shit isn’t for the taste.  Like coffee, who’s only purpose in life is to allow me to consume 18% creamer and sugar.  And there’s NO CREAMER!  Pricks.  And then a smoke break that’s interrupted by the lady from accounting, who’s crazier than a shit house mouse.  No I don’t want to hear about the haunted house you made for Halloween!  It’s fucking MAY!  I mean really, I don’t care.  Especially if you’re crazy and smell like a week old ashtray, even from 30 feet away.  And the commute home is pretty much guaranteed to be riddled with ass-hats who can’t drive who think it’s okay to text behind the wheel as long as you’re on the highway.  Please know that I hate you, and wish bad things upon you.  I hope your children drop out of high school and move into a trailer park with their pregnant stripper girlfriends and live happily ever after without you.