10 Things You Do That Make You Want To Punch Yourself In The Face



Really? You couldn’t wait 60 more seconds to dip your grilled cheese in that bowl of tomato lava? This is not a race, no one is timing you and you’re going to make it through the winter just fine with what you’ve already acquired. Do yourself a favor and just commit to a juice fast for the next 24 hours. You’re not going to be able to taste anything anyway, might as well fit into your skinny jeans.


Who put this couch here?! And how long has it been there?! Um, you put it there and it’s been there for 5 years. This injury can often spur random and angry house rearranging days. Put everything somewhere new. That should fix it.


You’re late for work and the Volvo in front of you is going just under the speed limit on a single lane in a no passing zone. What an asshole. So you have a tantrum that could rival a fiending crackhead and tailgate their ass all the way to the freeway. You pull up next to the vehicle ready to dirty look them to death only to find out it’s your 79-year-old grandma looking neighbor. Congratulations. You’ve just flipped off the sweetest cottonball in history. Guess who isn’t getting Nelly’s famous gingersnaps this year? You.


Tomorrow is your family photo shoot that is sure to be plastered on the refrigerators of everyone you know and don’t know in town. You’ve got a great idea. You are a towhead blonde but you’ve always wanted fire engine red hair and Zooey Deschanel bangs, why not go get them now? Your usual hairstylist is completely booked so you stop by Great Clips for a quick chop and pick up a box of hair dye entitled The Red Light Special on the way home. You now look like Peg Bundy. Now go and try to convince your family that beanies would be a nice addition to this year’s photo.


The incredibly adorable and gay counter boy at MAC has spotted you. He knows just what new blush will make your new eyeshadow sparkle which will compliment your new eyeliner which is really going to make your new lipstick pop (especially with this new lipliner) which just can’t be worn without this new primer that works best if it’s paired with this new cleanser and moisturizer, oh, and you can’t live without these new $30 glitter lashes either. At the end, when you are credit card swiping your soul away, he says you’re pretty and you guys should totally do lunch some time which makes it all worth it. You went in for a compact and left with hairspray. They don’t even sell hairspray. CRAP.


The lady at the tanning salon told you not to shower for 5 hours for maximum feel-skinny-orange color but you have to be somewhere in three. What to do? Just skip the shower. You took one right before you got hosed down with iodine so you should be fine, right? Wrong. Anywhere you stand at the event, you seem to hear people around you asking Did someone spill a pina colada? It smells like a coconut armpit in here.. That would be you. You are the coconut armpit of the party. Just do yourself a solid: risk looking pasty and hangout with your rubber ducky before the party. Musty Island Fruit is never going to be a Victoria’s Secret debuting scent.


It’s Friday, traffic was horrific, someone left a Jenny Craig flyer on your windshield, you ran out of gas a mile away from home and your boss has been on your ass all week long. You are going to be drinking heavily. So you meet some friends at your local watering hole and THROW DOWN. Now it’s Saturday morning and your phone won’t stop buzzing mini earthquakes into your nightstand. You open half of one eye and check it. It’s Stacy. Wait, who is Stacy? Stacy is the girl you met at the bar last night. You know, the one whose boyfriend just dumped her so you bought her 11 shots and ended up telling each other you loved one another like a sister and from here on out vow to be lifelong friends? Ohhh yeah… That Stacy. Her message says: I had so much fun last night! You’re my new support system for sure! Oh and thank you for offering to help me move today! SO sweet. See you in an hour!! XOXO. Oh shit. Thanks a lot Fireball.


It’s 2:30 in the morning and you’ve just got home from a long night out when a thought strikes you. Remember how hot you looked tonight? Awesome hair day and makeup day. But, oh my God, you forgot to take a selfie! You still have time, right? No. No, you do not. That hot girl had a shelf life of a few hours before things went downhill. But you’re drunk, so you roll around your bedroom floor taking ‘sexy’ selfies and end up instagramming one that you’ve managed to filter thirty-seven times. You wake up to a notification of four random creepers liking a photo on your profile and a text from your mom asking if you are alright. Way to go, Gisele. You’ve got a real career ahead of you.


It’s 3 in the morning and you’re sloshed. Your DD has coaxed you into the car by the glorious promise of greasy late night food. You want a carne asada burrito, a carne asada quesadilla and the carne asada fries. You have managed to order the same thing three different ways. Then you tell the drive-thru guy that you don’t want any sour cream because it’s fattening and you do a lot of yoga. This sentence only makes sense to you. You wake up with cankles from the massive sodium intake and waddle out of your room to discover Filiberto’s has ransacked your kitchen. Then your friend informs you that the random missed call you have is from the drive-thru guy and that you gave it to him in exchange for extra red sauce when you know that shit is free. Awesome.


If you’ve only broken up once then it’s whatever. Almost everyone deserves a second chance. But if every single song about heartbreak and getting stomped on and taken advantage of is’ your song’ then calling it quits is probably overdue. You don’t get to claim every ballad that has been released from 2009 to 2013. It’s not fair. Those of us with mediocre problems want to be able to listen to it and cry in our car too without thinking about your crap relationship. We can’t do that when you post a video of every single one of them on your Facebook and call dibs cause it’s SOOO you guys. Guess what? Adele hates your relationship as much as we do. Please find a new boyfriend or another genre. TC Mark

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