HIT REALITY SHOW GETS NEW TITLE: "John & Kate + 8 = 10 - John ÷ Kate = Divorce with a bunch of little bastards running around"

Forget about puppy mills... why should anyone feel sorry for people who mate like wild bunnies without any regard to the consequences? Where did I miss the new fad that having a bunch of children is the "cool" thing to do??

And is it me, or am I really the only person on this planet who thinks that Kate is a bitch? I don't blame her completely though; I mean, what kind of an idiot would want that many kids and a bitchy wife who's infamous for just breeding? You could probably park a few semi-trucks and pop up some circus tents without even leaving a scratch in there. {That's funny right thar, I don't care who you are}

How can anyone feel sorry for them when they make a butt-load of money off of their own self-indulgence because of the general public's inability to watch something else worth watching?! They both made the bed they no longer sleep in and I feel about as "sorry" for them as I do for Michael Jackson's kids right now. Before you attack me on this one (because I just love those hater's), try serving our country for a cause you may not even believe in- while at the same time having you leg blown off from a rogue missile and get some REAL problems Gosselins.

Cheers,

Pet Peeve #3

For the most part, I can be pretty patient. Not today... I'm in line at a local bitch box (espresso stand- I think it's called Java Slut) about three cars back and this GUY is talking to the Barista for like six minutes- after he receives his drink! People started to do that little, pathetic half-honk thing (ya know the one where you want them to know someone honked, but not you) and the guy still didn't get the hint!!

So what do I do?

I laid down on my horn like I'm taking a nap at a Pink Floyd concert. He looks around embarrassed-like and finally, drives off. By the time I pull up to the window, the java jugs girl is telling me what he said without even asking me. She said he asked her out and gave her a Victoria Secret bag with some fancy panties in it. {Huh?} Of course, she's freaked out because she's 18 years old going on 14 and he's in his mid-forties or something.

Do I care?

Not really, just give my damn coffee. There's no other stand around for a few miles and I'm going to be late for work. Besides, they fired the girl I like with the best boobs anyway...


Note to self: The uglier girl's side moves faster if I'm running late.


Cheers,