I was trying to take a picture of my feet and this T-shirt appeared out of nowhere. Weird.
Doesn’t it make you bitter when you are trying to take a picture of something and someone photobombs your perfectly terrible and blurry picture? I was trying to take a picture of my toe and this T-shirt totally photobombed my picture. It came out of nowhere, jumped in my photo, acted like a jerk, then left, and pretended that it didn’t screw up my picture after I took it. When I tried to confront the T-shirt about the photobomb, it just sat there, laying on the shelf pretending not to hear me. Jerk. It also implied that I was lazy, which I am, but that isn’t the point. Well, next time he is trying to take a photo with his friend, I’m going to get in his picture with a really bitter face. That will teach him.
I’ve noticed a pattern.
Speaking of teaching someone a lesson, I found a way to explain how my blog works. People accidently end up here by typing the word bitter on Google because something in their life sucks so bad that they can’t possibly make it through the day without crying. They accidently read a post and think, “This guy has no reason to be bitter at all and yet he is complaining. Maybe I’m not as bitter as I think.” It seems funny to them, because anything on the internet is amusing compared to what they are going through. Then, they accidently hit the subscribe button, because their mouse isn’t working, then they go on their bitter way. Then they see an email every two days, saying that they are stalking a bitter blog, can’t find a way to unsubscribe and they are left bitter about all this junk mail they are getting.
Tables are such jerks. They are always getting in the way of my toes.
Speaking of tables that explain things, Dinner Table is like the lego of furniture. They appear to be perfectly nice to you in the daytime by volunteering to host meals such as dinner, lunch and other breakfast like meals. Sometimes they even promise to hold other things on top of it, like newspapers, straw wrappers and bills that you will never pay. Then, as soon as it is dark and you are too cheap to turn on a light, it turns full Godfather. It waits for you to screw up, walk a little too fast, walk without your bodyguard shoes, or decide to use one of its competitors, the fridge, and it strikes. Without mercy, it strikes and reminds you that he is the boss of the kitchen and you don’t mess with him at night.
Arrrrrrghhhhh, my toe hurts!
Bitter “Toe” Ben
Related articles
- Quote Bitterizing (bensbitterblog.wordpress.com)
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Ben's Bitter Blog 
This could be my favorite post of yours…but I have a lot of catching up to do. Your chart was a little harsh. I’ve never thought, “GO DIE or I HATE YOU” while reading a blog. Not yet anyhow.
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You should stop by to my post today. It features my first ever Youtube video. Not to be missed….
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Your table is tough and all, but it has nothing on the walls in my house. I turned off the lights last week and thought I was walking to my room. Instead, the wall confused my brain and jumped into my path causing me to run face first into some part of my living room. I say face first because the end table also jumped in front of me, causing me to lose my footing and fall forward into the waiting flatness of the wall.
I suspect these occurrences are linked to the furniture uprising. I can feel my recliner plotting my death as I type…
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My table is just the first of other furnitures that are trying to kill me.
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More often, it’s the elusive ottoman that I’m stubbing my toe on… I’ve tried talking to him about his behavior, but nobody puts ottoman in a corner. Literally.
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Well he is a man, which means he doesn’t listen very well…
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The back of that t-shirt ( or the front bottom ) should read … but don’t expect an answer anytime soon … ? Just sayin’ Tay.
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Because I’m laying on the couch and don’t have the energy to get up….
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Geez, you managed an answer anyway? You sir, are not taking laziness seriously enough, Bitterly yours, Tay. 😉
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It took me two days to type all that.
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I’ve been neglecting the Bitterblog. For this I apologize. I was focussing on my own production but it’s been increasingly clear that I’m running out of ideas.
You’re doing well here! You go, guy!
Either this invalidates your bitterness, or totally validates it. I can’t decide which.
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How dare you focus on your own blog. I don’t think you’ve been neglecting the blog as much as you have just not been in touch with your bitter side. Get in touch. You will feel so much bitter.
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Our minds are linked! I was just writing about that very thing in a post that is scheduled for tomorrow, featuring none other than Ben’s Bitter Blog.
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Then why are you wasting time talking to me. Get to it, posting about bitterness.
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Damn Kitchen tables always get in the way, right? What the hell!! I will be walking through my house, minding my own business, when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, my kitchen table or one of its accomplices (the kitchen chairs) will jump out and hit my toe! WTF!!! Me and that table are gonna have a talk!
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I’ve been giving my table the silent treatment since last week. I hope it feels really bad.
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Nothing makes me sound like a bitter old sailor faster than a table leg. I can handle many types of pain with dignity (childbirth included), but stubbing my toe sends me into a spiral of curse words that would make an Army grunt blush. It’s shameful.
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Tables, the silent pain causer. Second only to Legos. Childbirth is third right? No?
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I love how you turn your life as a child (years ago) into such funny experiences. Those experiences back then did not seem to be funny to you or to me then.
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Dad, I just want to thank you for all the bitter experiences you provided so I could someday write about them. Thanks Bitter Dad!
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Nah. It’s just as funny now (your blog). In fact, hysterically funny sometimes. But I like your bitter take on the progression with the chart. Table legs. Plotting, always.
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Table legs are such stalkers.
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i love this, especially the scale with the t
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Are you talking about the table? I’m pretty most people are on the “kill me” scale.
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At least it wasn’t XXXXXXXXXXXL! That would have really scared you as you tried to take a picture of your toes. 😛
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A small would have looked like a little kids shirt on me. I haven’t been a small since 3rd grade?
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I feel for your toe, but it seems like a bitter person should have a sore toe, doesn’t it?
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Something is always sore, so it might as well be a toe.
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Walls and doorknobs clearly have a hit on me. I may have to go into a witness protection plan other wise, it’ll be the end of my arm. 😦 ….
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For some reason when I first read this, I thought you said the waitress protection program. I hope your arm remains so it can be bitter about all the things trying to take a hit out on it.
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I don’t want you to die yet, so that’s good, right? I think I have your blog between funny and really funny still, so try not to fuck that up.
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I think it has slipped to the meh stage for me and most other people, but at least I’m alive still.
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I drink a lot so sometimes you reach hilarious still for me.
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That explains a lot.
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hahaha I love it. You have me in hysterics. People think I’m barking because I can talk to the dead but I don’t pick fights with tables and get stalked by photobombing Tshirts lol Your brilliant. You could do stand up, seriously.
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Freaking T-shirts are always stalking me. But not as much as stains stalk my T-shirts.
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Yeah they must be the same stains that stalk my husband too. Especially Notorius Spag-ett-ti, that’s well gansta that stain haha
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That is pretty freakin funny that your stains are gangsta. I laughed a bitter laugh before I just spilled bitter stain on my shirt.
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