Why must people keep knocking my door all the time? If it’s not men wanting to know whether I want my driveway mono-blocked (Yes I do, but I don’t want to pay for it, so go away) or kids selling tablet, it’s people telling me that, hey, looks like my windows are about to cave right in, so it’s lucky they were in the area because their dad just happens to have a double-glazing firm, and they could totally cut me a deal right then and there!

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, people, LEAVE ME ALONE. Can you not see I’m busy looking at shoes I can’t afford on the internet doing my important work? Can you not HEAR how crazy my dog gets every time you set so much as ONE TOE on my non-monoblocked driveway (hey, maybe I should… Nah, forget it.), the sound sending him into the kind of hysterical rage that it takes us HOURS – well, minutes, anyway – to bring him down from?

Also: people who are collecting for charity? You knock on my door one more time late at night with your pious expression and your talk of how you need to take all of my money for "the chyyyyldren" and I’ll set my dog on you, m’kay? And bearing in mind the fact that we haven’t had any mail since Rubin rounded up the postman that time, believe me, that is not an idle threat. I will decide when and how I give to charity. ME. Not you. So don’t even think about disturbing me in my important work to try and guilt-trip me into handing over a bunch of cash. What are you, highwaymen?

Anyway, I don’t keep cash in the house. (Actually, I don’t keep cash in the bank, either. I keep my cash in the form of shoes, in my wardrobe. And that;s how I like it.) I’m like the Queen that way. The only way you’re getting money off me is if you start taking Visa. And even then you’re not getting any money off me because I DON’T HAND OUT MONEY TO TOTAL STRANGERS WHO KNOCK ON MY DOOR LATE AT NIGHT, CAUSING MY DOG TO HAVE A CONNIPTION AND DISTURBING ME IN MY IMPORTANT WORK.

I will take some of that tablet, though.

P.S. Just speaking of Rubin, he finally decided to get his paw out and start updating his blog again, and today he has taken the lazy bloggers route by posting a short video clip of himself. You should go see. Oh COME ON, people, it’s a freakin’ TALKING DOG, what more do you want?

P.P.S He doesn’t actually talk in the video though. Just thought I should make that clear in order to manage your expectations effectively. He only talks to special people, know what I mean?

  1. Okay. Usually I have no problem keeping up with the expressions you use. You know, because I'm all wordly and what-not. For example, we used to just call the refuse receptacles trashcans, but now my husband and I both have taken to calling them "wheelie bins".
    But now, I am forced to ask – what exactly is mono-blocking and what is a tablet? (I can't think of anything for tablet other than a pill or some sort of book.)

  2. Leslie,

    I'm not particularly up on home improvement terms myself, so I may be using this wrong, but as far as I'm aware, monoblock looks like this:

    In the UK, a lot of driveways are covered in lots of stupid little stones which I can't find a picture of, but which are really annoying because they go everywhere, are really messy and everytime someone walks or drives over them, they make a stupid crunching noise. This forcs people to have their driveways "monoblocked" -probably at great expense, although I don't know because I have yet to convince myself that my life cannot continue without this happening.

    Tablet is a traditional Scottish sweet:

  3. I feel your pain Amber. I used to live in a hamlet of 10 houses, and no-one came by ever, because we lived at the end of a really long and bumpy road. Now we've moved to a little village, where there are actually signs of life. The first time we got carol-singers I pointed to their approaching forms and fearfully asked my dad 'What the hell are *they*?' Luckily I still live in the back of beyond so we only tend to get seasonal door-to-door callers 😛

  4. Hmmm… I've been on an old school Britney kick lately, so one of her songs was the first thing I thought of when I read your title. I guess that's pretty sad, huh? 😉

  5. At least you don't have people buzzing your apartment a 3 AM. That is NOT fun. Especially when you're crazy and instead of thinking it was some idiot drunk person, you start panicking that maybe your building is on fire and start looking for the fire trucks.

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