The Foot Fight
I'm taking a break from blogging. I don't typically do the things that many bloggers do, like Wordless Wednesdays, memes, linkys, etc. Maybe that is what real bloggers do while I'm over here talking about my sister's impromptu old food White Elephant party or weird insects or something. Ridiculous. So, I'm taking a break.
Okay, it was a short one. It occurred just during the moment it took me to scroll down from that period after the "k" up there and until I typed that "O" in the line above this one. A true break really wasn't going on anyway as I was holding the down arrow key during the "break" and that was terribly stressful.
I can't take a break from blogging yet, because where would I write about this rant I witnessed from Left Foot just the other day? People magazine does not want rants about feet talking to each other. I asked and they yelled at me. Also uninterested are those free classified newspapers no one reads that sit and beg to be picked up as you exit the grocery stores. They didn't even want any part of this rant. Ann's Rants said she has enough rants on her own blog and suggested I might call an adoption agency or the local rant shelter. THAT is why it is on this blog today. This rant has nowhere else to go. Rant is at the end of it's rope. For the love of God, open up the door and let Rant inside. Rant is cold and Rant wants a bowl of soup.
Left Foot's Rant (a.k.a "Rant"):
(My husband's grandfather actually drives with one foot on the gas and one foot on the pedal. His feet are happy and, apparently, argue very little.)
Quit blogging, right? Save you from this insanity?
Okay, it was a short one. It occurred just during the moment it took me to scroll down from that period after the "k" up there and until I typed that "O" in the line above this one. A true break really wasn't going on anyway as I was holding the down arrow key during the "break" and that was terribly stressful.
I can't take a break from blogging yet, because where would I write about this rant I witnessed from Left Foot just the other day? People magazine does not want rants about feet talking to each other. I asked and they yelled at me. Also uninterested are those free classified newspapers no one reads that sit and beg to be picked up as you exit the grocery stores. They didn't even want any part of this rant. Ann's Rants said she has enough rants on her own blog and suggested I might call an adoption agency or the local rant shelter. THAT is why it is on this blog today. This rant has nowhere else to go. Rant is at the end of it's rope. For the love of God, open up the door and let Rant inside. Rant is cold and Rant wants a bowl of soup.
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| These are not my shoes. Or feet. www.funtimesguide.com |
I feel so stupid sitting over here! Just SITTING here. I can't push the brakes, I can't push the gas. If I even ASK Right Foot about it, he snaps at me and says to leave him alone because he's driving, like he's Mr. Important Man and I'm nothing but a slug's fart. I'd like to play on an iPhone or Gameboy or something, but I've got no hands. So, I sit. Sit and stare at Right Foot showing off and flexing his muscles when it's time to make those big stops. I tell him he just goes fast so he can stop suddenly and look really strong and in control. I told him he wouldn't have to stop so suddenly if he would just let me control the brake pedal while he controls the gas. Has he ever heard about the little preschool concept of SHARING?? He refuses. The little selfish freak refuses. Every. Time. Do you know how stupid I feel?? It's embarrassing and humiliating! I feel like an idiot! Everyone trusts me to help walk them everywhere, you see. They trust me to help walk up and down the stairs. I'm great at pushing bike pedals, too! You should see me on a highwire! Have you ever seen Right Foot tiptoe anywhere all by himself? CAN'T BE DONE! But, driving? I'm treated like a useless moron when it comes to driving. Makes no sense. I'd kick that Right Foot right in the butt if he had one!The last I heard, Left Foot was really trying to make a case for moving to Europe where the steering wheel is on the left side of the car.
(My husband's grandfather actually drives with one foot on the gas and one foot on the pedal. His feet are happy and, apparently, argue very little.)
Quit blogging, right? Save you from this insanity?