It’s fair to say that over the last few months, reading these FMLs every week, I’ve become something of a seasoned vet. I know when an FML has been embellished. I know when it’s outright fabrication, and I know — beyond a shadow of a doubt — when it’s time for an FML author to “ditch” the subject of their complaint.
We have three people, with three people in their lives who are utter idiots. Who take away from, rather than enrich, the lives of the authors. So while my approach to each entry will vary, the advice will ultimately be the same (which I realize spoils some of the tension I’m trying to build up).
And that advice is to ditch ’em.
Today, I caught my boyfriend blowing his nose on my blanket. After yelling at him and refusing to use the blanket to sleep with, he tells me I might as well sleep with the blanket because this isn’t the first time he’s blown his nose on it. I have been wrapping myself in a snot blanket for months. FML
Before I even explain why, my advice is simple: ditch him. Most women (that I know, anyway) are looking for guys who are at least moderately intelligent and also sensitive. Actually, strike that. Most PEOPLE are looking for someone like that. Unfortunately your boyfriend displays neither of these tendencies.
What he does successfully is display the maturity and sensitivity of a psychopath. Hence the advice to ditch him.
Ditch him. But first, buy him a warehouse pack of kleenex. Then, before you boot his ass out the door, give him a pamphlet on the proper nose-blowing method.
Today, I went to my boss at work to request a few days off to see my sister. She’s flying here to spend a weekend with us before she deploys for 2 years. My boss denied my request. Why? Because he wanted those days off. To spend at home with his dog. FML
Your boss is a jerk. Ditch him, ditch the job, and work for someone whose head isn’t shoved up one of their own body cavities.
I’m assuming you mentioned your reasons for needing time off. Because your sister is conceivably going to a place for an extended period of time where you won’t be able to visit her, and where the potential for death is pretty high. Meanwhile, your boss wants to roll around in his backyard with his mutt. You really, really should have told him to stuff it.
Hopefully you still can.
Today, my mom decided our whole family is going on a diet. Why? Because the vet told us our dog is overweight, and she “didn’t want Twix to suffer alone.” FML
You dog is named Twix? And it’s overweight? So your mom’s response is to force you all to go on a diet? I know this might sound harsh, but it’s time to ditch your mom. She’s nuts.
I don’t want to get into the strange psychology of naming a dog Twix and then being surprised that it becomes fat. There’s probably a pop psych theory there. And while you should probably be eating healthily anyhow, I don’t think your dog is going to notice that it’s food has changed and yours hasn’t. And even if it does, it’s not going to be able to reason about why that is. And frankly, dogs will eat anything so it probably isn’t going to experience a ton of distress about a changed diet.
But sweet gods, tell your mom to give her head a shake. Then tell her you’d rather not speak to her until she gets her shit together, brain-wise. Because, my friend, this is the tip of the iceburg. Next stop: dementia!