get the hell outta here

Listen I realize I have a shit load of kids but god damn can’t they get outta my room at night? Every five seconds it’s either a knock or a barge in and it always begins with Mommy, FILL IN NAME HERE, CHOSE ONE OF THE FOLLOWING HERE hit me, won’t let me in the bathroom, pooped and it stinks in the bathroom, threw away my jonas brothers poster, let the cat pee on my bed, lost my library book, hid my toothbrush, got gum in my hair, has cake under her bed, wore my underwear and got poop in them. The list could actually go on. Sometimes they pull out a raggedy ass paper from school and say it’s really important and all it says is, we’re looking for volunteers for school carnival (fuck off school carnival with your no parking) or hey buy our market day products. Why the hell do you have to order market day food when we have grocery stores? I don’t need to pay 18 bucks for some damn noodles. So they had to go rummage through their shit to find this paper so they could then come knock on my door and drive me crazy well not tonight friends, not tonight. I locked the damn door and said get the hell outta here.

Then Bill tried to get in and I told him the same thing. He started to whine outside the door about how he needed shorts or else he was going to rub his bare ass all over my couch. So I made him sing a song for entry and it went a little something like this:

If you don’t let me in Im gonna take off my underwear and bare ass your couch. Im gonna rub it in good. I don’t know why you like shitty couches but that’s what you’re getting. Now open the door cause you’re pissing me off and if you don’t Im punching you in the face you asshole.