Would you mind explaining just how rude you got, that it involved the calling of the police? Or did you call the police? I’m not exactly sure what happened here.
What’s the deal with the map used behind the weekend update on SNL? It’s probably changed 20 times over the last 30 years and is never the “correct” mercator projection one that everyone is used to seeing.
Note to my brain: STOP FUCKING WORRYING.
It’s one thing to worry about things that you can’t do shit about. Fine. It’s another to stress compulsively over them to the point where you’re not sleeping or eating well. You used to do that. That’s the Old You. Then you went and got your head on straight and for a while things were great. Now you’re relapsing, which is stupid, so STOP IT.
And no, getting all stressed out because “oh shit I’m so stressed out and worrying to much am I going to need to find a therapist again maybe I should’ve started taking medication when I could oh god I’m such a waste of a person” is not an acceptable action, either.
A principal is a person, a principle is an idea. Just remember, your principal is your pal!
Reminds me of a script that called for “all principles” to leave the stage. We wondered if that meant we were all supposed to suddenly become immoral.
That’s taking it too far, I agree, but I generally mark that up to their being a little awkward. There’s only so much to talk about with the sandwich monkey, and I assume remembering what I like to eat helps the time pass faster.
Dear Grocery Stores,
My recipe calls for candied cherries and candied fruit. I searched every aisle in ever store within five miles of me, even suffering through a painfully full bladder. Why don’t none of ya’ll carry CANDIED CHERRIES AND/OR CANDIED FRUIT! And no, marischino cherries DO NOT COUNT!!!
Dear monstro (the human),
Why do you even try to cook? You know you can’t. I don’t care that your intentions are good–making cookies for coworkers is always good–but why do you always forget that everything you touch turns to crap. Your cookies are bad, okay? They are of a strange consistency, bland, and NOT DELICIOUS. Don’t blame the lack of candied cherries and candied fruit, because you ditched that recipe. You. Just. Suck.
Of course, your coworkers will accept your offering gladly, but then be sadly disappointed. They will give you wan smiles as they nibble, and then when you turn your head they’ll vomit in their napkins. They will say, “monstro, those were SO good!” but inside they will be thinking, “Bitch, what did we do to deserve THIS?!” So why don’t you just save them the trouble and throw the cookies away. Maybe some magical fungi will grow on them at the landfill and they won’t go to complete waste.
Dear monstro (the cat),
Why did you wake me up this morning by digging your fecal coliform-encrusted toenail in my EYE as you did the high jump over my face?!! Gratefully it missed my eyeball by a milimeter, but then you had to drag your nail across my nose too. I’m ugly and it’s all because of YOU. And I have an interview this week. The interviewer’s going to think I’m Scarface and won’t hire me. Yes, I’m aware that you felt bad afterwards. I appreciated your extra rubbing against my legs as I stared at my hideous reflection in the mirror. But if you would just let me clip your damn nails, things like this wouldn’t happen!
If you do it again, I will kill you.
Hate,
monstro
monstro…there is no such thing as a bad cookie. Really.
Would you, please? These entitlement twats who drive like morons down here make me appreciate the people who drive in a somewhat more sane manner further north. What also irks me greatly is that these same twats that think they can run people off the road are also parking as if two spaces are absolutely necessary for their car/SUV/ovulation capsule to fit in the parking lot. Parking over the line, parking diagonally, and parking too god damned close to the other cars that are already parked is typical for this area.
And it doesn’t work. In my time at the Evillest Retailer, we had at least one person who stole scissors from us and then used said scissors to open one of those packages. Others would apparently bring in their own equipment to rip 'em open. It doesn’t stop the thieves, that’s for damn sure. I hate those packages, they make my life more difficult and it’s so fucking unnecessary – if somebody wants to steal something badly enough they will find a way. You can only go so far to stop them.
My rant is that I now assume that there is a subset of people who will do almost anything to get what they want…I mean, I knew there was, but working there really killed any idealism I might have had left. Fuck that.
To Cookie,
The litter box is where you’re supposed to deposit your urine. The floor is not. Thanks for at least peeing on the bathroom tile and not on the carpet, though.
Dear Doofus at Epson Support:
If it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, but is actually a chicken, do you think you could be less obnoxious when I slip and call it a duck? We both know what the hell I meant. You didn’t need to correct me every time I accidentally said that the projector would project dvd’s in color, but not the television signal. For your average user, if it is capable of projecting a television image, it’s a fucking television, whether it contains a tuner or not. And fuck you very much for saying my explanation wasn’t coherent. It would have been, if you’d have shut the fuck up and let me finish explaining instead of keeping on interrupting to tell me it wasn’t a television.
At least you’re getting the problem taken care of. Sheesh.
Tired, frustrated Epson projector owner.
Yes, I’ve worked tech support and know it’s a hard and thankless job, but I’d have gotten fired if I’d talked to a customer the way he talked to me.
I wasn’t going to rant, but now I’ve got to.
To my coworkers: just because I’m sitting at my desk does not mean I’m not at lunch! Yes, I’m surfing the Dope and checking my e-mail. No, I don’t want to be disturbed. I don’t interupt your lunch; don’t interupt mine. If you keep this up, I swear, I’m going to find you during your cigarette break, drag you back inside leaving your cigarette half-smoked, and then tell you something so trivial it will make Anna Nicole Smith’s baby’s daddy look like the outbreak of peace in Iraq and Sudan simultaneously! (In reality, I’ll probably just try another polite request.)
And now, back to what remains of my lunch.
That same thing just happened to me about 15 minutes ago! I even had my door closed! Co-worker just knocked and walked in asking if she can ask me a quick question.
I wanted to say, “Yeah, if you can ask it through my closed door!”
I’m right with you on that one.
I recently bought a new Leatherman tool to replace mine which was stolen [sub]Which is it’s own rant, TSA thieving bastards[/sub] and I needed a freaking Leatherman or knife or something to get in the damn thing.
The item I purchased cost about $30. Did it really need all that protection?
Did you try the produce section? I have seen them stocked there before.
To the kids who like to hang out by my house during the day:
I don’t really care if you’re out there, but for god’s sake why do you have to jump off the side of the building? No wonder the siding is dirty as hell. How long will it last if you do shit like that? It doesn’t sound that great inside my living room either. I also really, really, do not appreciate the snowballs hitting my door/windows. Thanks for wrecking the trees too. It’s wonderful to see the thick branches lying on the ground and obviously ripped off the tree. I’m guessing you guys are jumping off the walkway and grabbing the branches, if so I hope one of you breaks an ankle when you land wrong.
To the teenagers who hang out by my house at night:
Go away. Just, go away. Warm weather has finally arrived, and I know I’ll have to deal with you shits every weekend (and some weeknights) until winter comes again. The driveway? Not a gathering spot. Not a place to stand around and yell, smoke, drink and fight. The acoustics are really grand here y’know? I can hear every word you say inside my townhouse. So can the other people in this short radius, almost all of which with kids under the age of 5 WHO ARE TRYING TO SLEEP.
I’m not sure when I ask you (politely) to move on, you yell stupid things at me (like something about west side story… wtf does that have to do with the price of tea in China?). Next time I see a gathering of more than 5 of you out there pulling the same stuff, I’m not going to bother asking you to move on. I’m just going to call the cops. I’d like to see what your parents think about you being dragged home by them.
I always find them in the baking section (I’m not sure what else you would do with candied fruit other than bake with it). If your stores don’t have them there (or anywhere), that is weird.
My mini-rant du jour - we’re going on vacation in 2.5 weeks, and my sister is getting married this week, so no point getting a temp job now, but I have 2.5 weeks to kill, and I really wanted to go back to work months ago. Calgary has the worst shortage of workers in the history of mankind right now, so how come my temp agency hasn’t called me, hunh? I called them when my shoulder was hurting so badly I couldn’t move my arm at all and told them I wouldn’t be available until my arm was movable again, but I haven’t heard from them since I called and left a message saying I could work again. I wasn’t kidding, you know - I could have produced a doctor’s note describing my adhesive capsulitis and calcified tendonitis, and x-ray results and physiotherapy results, if that’s what they needed to believe me. Bastards. I’ve been stuck in a limbo of waiting for them and should I try another agency, and now it’s really too late.
To my incredibly wonderful Chinese cookbook…
You have heavenly recipes, everything is spot-on perfect. There are many other recipes I’d like to try, but they list the following as a key ingredient:
“fungus”
Well that’s a little fucking broad isn’t it? Do you mean mushroom? Any specific type? Perhaps a category of slime mold? They all taste differently, I’m sure. There’s a lichen growing on my garage that I could chip off, it would save me a trip to Fungus Depot, but I really don’t know if it’s the right kind.
I would think a cookie that urinates on the carpet might be considered a bad cookie
You get into those force-shield packaged things with kitchen shears. Don’t try to puncture the bubble - cut around the welded seams, just the flat part. Voila.