This meeting could have been a push down the stairs.

How to write complaints: “Dear customer service, first of all, you should know that I am typing this with my middle finger.”

Sorry I can’t carpool to work. That’s the time I use to angry scream.

Forgetting how to clean the dishes and shooting them with a gun.

Robot bartender rips me in half after listening to my problems for over an hour.

I hate having a ton of anxiety and no energy. It’s like having a tank full of gas and no engine.

If I ever went to jail for murder, it would be for murdering my printer.

I miss the days when you could simply end a phone call by slamming the receiver down angrily.

Why there is always a kid crying when I go to the store? Dude, you aren’t the one paying for it. Stop!

Google Maps should start screaming the more wrong turns you make.

It should be illegal to take a nap and still have a headache when you wake up. Like, I shut it off and back on again, why are you still here?

I hate hotel bath towels. So thick and fluffy, I can’t even close my suitcase.

I’m sick of the Microsoft Authenticator. Like, who would be logging in to do my work?

“This too shall pass.” And then some other bullshit will come and take its place. It never f**king ends.

I get all the cardio I need by running out of patience.

Petition to change the name of rice cakes to something else as they are 100% rice and 0% cake and I’m tired of all the gaslighting.

The best part about filling out doctor appointment forms online is when you get there and they say “hello, please fill out these forms!”

“How is the job search going?” First of all, that is a violent question. And it hurts me, by the way. And second, how the hell should I know.

It infuriates me that computer Scrabble doesn’t get mad when I win even though I’m livid when it wins.

Ever since I learned the show is called Suits because of lawsuits and not because they wear suits, I have harbored a hot white rage within me beyond anything mankind has ever known.