Proper Care of Your Peeves

We're going to pet our peeves, today!

Yay!

(clap, clap)

Where to start? There are so many things. I might hurt myself.

So here we go...

We'll start off with the word ... 'myself.'

I hate the word, 'myself,' myself. Because so many people just screw it up, leaving me grinding my molars into chalk. Worse, people who know better obviously don't know better. I can't tell you how many times I've heard a teacher, an announcer, a politician say something like, "my friend and myself went to the store..."

Grrr....

My family has learned to duck if we're watching a show and someone uses it improperly. I explode, frothing at the mouth (as opposed as frothing anywhere else), and they just cringe, knowing I just have to rant and rave every time.

Of course, that's what a peeve is all about.

And I gots lots of them.

Here's another one.

How about someone who races you for the merge, and when you let him go ahead, he slows down below the speed limit?

And more.

How about supposed BA's wearing knit caps in the middle of the summer? Yeah, maybe you are tough after all.

Grand Prix drivers (read any of my books, I destroy one or its driver).

People who brush by you without saying 'excuse me,' or even acknowledging you were there in the first place.

People who don't have weeds in their lawn.

Guys who don't flush after going to the bathroom, or worse, wash their hands.

The thing about pet peeves is you have to take care of them. Feed them, keep them safe. Fortunately, there are so many people out there who feel it's their personal responsibility to keep your peeves charged up.

Here's to them.

Norm

www.normcowie.com
(vampire, humor book Fang Face on ebook for three bucks)

Pet Peeves

I've been told I'm easy to get along with. Few things get on my nerves.

However! If you want to be sure to get on my bad side, do these:

• Be two-faced. I live my life in a manner where I always try to mean what I say, say what I mean, keep my promises, tell the truth -- even when it hurts, stand for what I believe, and treat everyone as I would expect to be treated. I expect you to do the same.
• Be petty. I can be as catty as the next girl, but I don't bite unless I've been bitten first.
• Be mocking. No one likes being made fun of, so knock it off.
• Don't listen. At least make an attempt to hear what I'm saying. If you have something to add, at least wait until I've said my piece. And if you're one of those people who carry on multiple conversations at once, or are glued to your phone, please, don't. I want to know I've got your attention. I'll try to do the same for you.

It's not that hard to be respectful and courteous and forthright. And believe me: a little politeness can do amazing things.

~*~

Heather S. Ingemar has loved to play with words since she was little, and it wasn’t long until she started writing her own stories. Termed “a little odd” by her peers, she took great delight in exploring tales with a gothic flair, and to this day, Edgar Allan Poe continues to be her literary hero. To learn more, please visit: http://ingemarwrites.wordpress.com/ or follow her on Twitter: http://twitter.com/heatheringemar

Buy a story (or two or three): Heather Ingemar in the Echelon Catalog

Read This If You Don't Want to Die!!!

Normally, I'd have a rough time limiting my pet peeves to one or two, but the spate of alarmist e-mails I received within the past two weeks helped me make a quick decision. Does anyone else get annoyed by the "Eating fruit after dinner will cause it to rot in your digestive track and make you deathly ill" kind of message in their inbox?

I get more of these than I think I should, and some of them more than once. My SPAM filter won't keep them out because they're always forwarded to me by someone I know. So I routinely receive warnings about drinkng a hot beverage after a meal to melt all that unhealthy fat in my food (all food goes to body temperature by the time it leaves the stomach so a got drink is still just a drink), personal ID info being stolen off of hotel key cards (a woman I know who owns a hotel says we're lucky if the card remembers how to open the room door), and the dangers of being kidnapped from a mall after someone sprays perfumed knock-out gas in my face at the local department store (can anyone even point me to an actual news article regarding this?).

Being a tad neurotic, I do my best to find an expert to refute these things. Then just for grins, I send that anti-alarmist information back to the original sender plus everyone on the list. Never helps, though, and I still get the same e-mails back in my inbox at some later time.

I suppose I could look at these things as being the tabloid news articles of the Net. But none of them is anywhere near as amusing as something like "65-Year-Old Grandmother Gives Birth to Alien Triplets!" so I open them, gnash my teeth, find a way to prove them false, and send the corrected messages on their way. Perhaps instead of using fact against fiction, I ought to just augment the fiction? Next time I get an e-mail warning me never to heat water in the microwave because it could blow up in my face, I ought to add to it that microwave-heated water also causes plantars warts and dandruff. Hmmm. Wonder if that would come back to me as another warning?

Alarmist e-mails are definitely one of my pet peeves. And please don't get me started on those things that want me to send them to 10 friends in the next 10 seconds if I don't want to get hit and killed by a garbage truck...

Nuts!

Diet? I don't need no stinkin' diet!

So many PET PEEVES, so little time. Okay, here’s the latest.

Squirrels. And, no, I don’t consider them pets...just peeves! Not ordinary squirrels. These pests climb my almost three-story deck to feast on sunflower seeds meant for the cardinals, golden finches, woodpeckers and various other colorful birds that are, in turn, meant to entertain us.

Instead of yellow, red, and blue birds, we get ugly gray squirrels hanging on the feeder...feeding their ugly appetites.

It’s gotten so bad, that my husband spotted one the other day spread-eagled, all four feet clinging to the feeder...fast asleep! The brazen little varmint got so dang full, he had to take a nap!

Imagine his surprise when sweet dreams about rivers of acorns were interrupted by a plastic flyswatter bopping him on the head. Mr. Piggy Squirrel turned into Rocky, the Flying Squirrel.

I can just hear him complaining about the management: “What kinda B & B is this, anyway? Can’t a guy have some lunch and take a little nap in peace?”

Please...anyone, let me know if you have a solution, or if you just want to post your pet peeve of the week. Comments always welcome!

Author, Mary Cunningham is the author of the award-winning series, “Cynthia’s Attic.” The fourth book in the series, The Magician’s Castle, will be published by Quake, Dec. 1.