Let The Dead Horse Die

I don’t mind being criticized. I don’t mind being picked on or made fun of. What I do mind is repetitive bullshit. I can’t stand someone repeating the same shit over and over again as if I didn’t hear it the first time. Beating a dead horse drives me insane and that’s just what Dick has been doing.

Despite the fact that I have filled out numerous job applications, turned in my resume to a number of places, and have just recently posted an ad offering childcare, I have yet to get myself a damn job. This opened the door for Dick to constantly remind me of how this isn’t helping our situation.

Oh, really? Like I had no fucking idea (even though he has repeated it a hundred times).

Needless to say I had to think of something to shut this man up before I had to put my foot so far up his ass that he wouldn’t be able to sit for a week. I searched around the house and thought of the perfect idea. I grabbed a zucchini, some yarn, and a googled image of a dead horse. I then turned the zucchini into something reminiscent of a demented My Little Pony. I set the dead horse on the counter and waited.

It wasn’t long before Dick started in again. I took a big ladle and whacked the horse on the counter. He asked what the hell I was doing to which I replied: You seem to be having so much fun beating a dead horse that I thought I’d give it a whack (and I hit the thing again).

He seems to have gotten the point and isn’t hounding me as bad. Hopefully someone will call me back soon.