Mortgage company? Your mortgage isn’t being held by a bank?
People who buy the Febreez Scent Stories are the worst people in the world.
If you are such a AADD disaster that you need so much stimulation that you have to be entertained by your de-stinkifyer, maybe, you could, I don’t know, CLEAN YOUR FUCKING HOUSE AND READ A BOOK!
I think there’s a leak in our roof. Yesterday after a particularly heavy rain spell, I went into the dining room to find a puddle of water immediately beneath a spot in the roof where we’ve suspected there’s been water damage in the past. But the ceiling wasn’t damp. So now we’ve got to keep an eye on the ceiling, and call the real estate on monday to get someone out to check the roof. Dangit.
Im supposed to be paid friday. For the past 7 months, promply at 8am the money shows up like magic in my bank accounts. This friday, however, it wasn’t there at 8am. Nor was it there at noon, or when the automatic withdraws went through, overdrawing my account. It SAYS on my employee online account that I was paid, but hell if the money’s there!
Ummm…husband? Before you throw clothes into the laundry, could you please make sure I still have some jeans to wear? I know you like to get all of the laundry done on Sundays, and I appreciate that you do it, but I’d like to have a pair of jeans to wear to the supermarket so that I don’t have to go in grubby old sweats or dress pants.
(Yes, I only have one pair of jeans right now, and I only wear them on the weekends usually - I need a new pair of jeans.)
Oh, yeah - whoever’s scheduling at ABC? You’re pissing me off. I’m two weeks behind on Grey’s Anatomy (mainly because I thought the trilogy sucked, and I haven’t felt like watching them until today), and I get a little pissed when the DVR cuts off the episode 2 minutes before it ends. Cut that shit out.
- Bovine bank customer, you might be pregnant but you’re young, strong and healthy and probably able to stand on your two hind legs for a couple of minutes longer than the frail, elderly woman you marched past in the bank queue, who had already been standing there patiently for a good 20 mins*. It’s one thing for the other queuers to say - “you’re pregnant, by all means please go first” - but it’s a bit too fucking much for you to take it as your automatic entitlement and strut to the front of the line without being asked. Next time, have the courtesy to wait for people to offer.
*While I’m at it, a hearty secondary pitting for the people in the queue who didn’t offer to let the old lady go to the front in the first place.
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Dipshit diner at the next table in the restaurant I was at a couple of days ago, what a lovely baby you have there. She’s what, 11 months old? Does she really need to drink Coca Cola? Does she really need to know that the vile stuff even exists at her age? How about making the most of her innocence and giving her stuff that will do her good? There’s plenty of time for her to pump herself full of crap once she’s a little older. Christ, it took all I had to refrain from suggesting she give her a cigarette to go with the coke.
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Dumbass driver - if you’re going to let your toddlers loose in the back of your car, at least make sure you know how to drive first. Another rear-ending stop like that and your precious offspring could be catapulted through the windscreen at a terrifying speed.
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Numbnut neighbours, we have to live in the same building so I will always smile and greet you politely. Little do you know that I harbour secret destructive fantasies about your… air-conditioning unit. The fucking thing is so loud it’s like sleeping on the runway at Heathrow. If you only used it when it was necessary - well, maybe I’d tolerate it - but the fact that you run it non-stop all night long 365/365 even when the nighttime temp is below the minimum setting on all air-conditioners known to man and beast, my neighbourly tolerance tends to slip a little, and I’m polishing my axe as we speak.
Vacuum cleaner - I hate you. I finally decided to give the living room, hallway and dining room a long overdue vacuuming. I fetched you from your lair, emptied your little dust bin and set to work. You need to remember, time spent with you is not quality time for me. I do not enjoy your company. Do you realize this and do your job quickly and efficently so I can get on to other things I need to do, such as cleaning the kitchen? No, you lead me on for about 5 minutes, letting me get about half the living room done, when you proceed to spit out more than you suck up. Now I have to wait until my husband gets home from work to see if you can be convinced to do your fucking job - the only thing we ever ask you to to, the thing for which you were manufactured, the reason we bought you - and start the entire process over tomorrow.
If you can’t be repaired or otherwise convinced to do your duty, I am going to take a crowbar to you before I kick your sorry ass to the curb. Just because I can.
I wish the illness plaguing my husband would FOAD, esp. since it’s his finals coming up. My intermittent migraine can go eat a choad, too. Waaah.
That’s alotta cock!
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH! I hadn’t ever thought of this conspiracy!
I salute your paranoia and wish to subscribe to your newsletter.
Here’s a narrow shopping street full of busy shoppers…
“I know what would be a good idea… Let’s stand right in the middle and have a conversation.”
(This is usually a group of about four people)
“Better yet… let’s stand near that other group of four people, thus, completely blocking the flow of human trafic.”
One of these days I am going to have the public courage and say… “Excuse me, would it be at all possible to choose somewhere less in the way to have this conversation?”
(or on a less polite day)
“Oi! If you must talk inane shit would you at least get the fuck out of the way of… everyone”
Those of you at my hospital who make semi-emergency announcements over the public address system: please learn just enough diction to do your job.
It’s one thing that my teeth must grate whenever you call for “Res-pi-tory Therapy”.
But your inability to pronounce “Ambulatory Care” ("Am-buh- (long pause) to-ry) is ridiculous, even if we can figure out where you want personnel to go.
We have a speech therapist. Please utilize this person’s services.
I object to these tip jars especially in places that are overpriced to begin with, usually due to having captive clienteles. I go to the cafe across the street from work nearly every day, because my employer doesn’t provide us with lunchrooms. The only way I can get away from my desk to another indoor spot with a table, which I need for studying during lunch, is to pay nearly $7 for a sandwich and a soda. I don’t want to add a tip on top of that, nearly every day.
And that brings up another matter–how much are you expected to tip in these situations? Is it just whatever loose change you have from the transaction? What if the bill is $6.95 and you only get a nickel back? Wouldn’t that insulting? Are you then expected to fish out another dollar?
Martha, if you’re going to be that entertaining, you really should post more often. 
Well, the wedding went off splendidly. My sister got all her bridezilla-ness out before the BIG DAY, apparently, because she was lovely all day (she didn’t cry at the ceremony, but the groom was bawling so hard he could hardly say his vows - awwww). My only gripe from the whole day was the photographer and his brilliant plan of having all the ladies in our high-heeled shoes take a long uphill hike on uneven, sketchy terrain. That just wasn’t kind.
I ignore these tip jars like you are supposed to ignore any other ignorant faux pas in public.
Certified mail. That $2.40 is a lot cheaper than your late fees, I’ll betcha.
Another vote for the damned tip jars. Are they some kind of fungus? Because they’re sprouting up every-damn-where in the most annoying way.
I refuse to put tips in tip jars in little cafes and coffee shops where I know the people working there are being paid above a tipped person’s wages. I don’t order anything complicated, so they are not doing anything more difficult than the job they were trained to do. This has been reinforced by the fact that I saw one about two or three years ago with a little sign that said “Jesus knows if you don’t tip” attached to the jar. They made the practice of having a tip jar out even ruder with that little sign.
For the motherfucker that kept me from landing a $50k job the other day, I hope you die, and I’ve never wanted a bond-esque Astin Martin so bad in my whole life so that I could slam your rude ass back into the dark ages with a metric fuckton of firepower.
See, I’ve recently become a business owner. A General Contractor to be exact. I was on my way to a public works bid opening for the City of Big Bear on Friday. Our first bid as a General…
I left in plenty of time to actually get there, if I had had a normal fucking drive. See, I got stuck behind some gargantuan ass in a Pathfinder that would not go the speed limit OR use the turnouts to let me pass. If I offended this twat puncher’s delicate sensibilities by getting too close to him, he’d slow down to 15 mph. There was no other safe way to get around him. If you go up highway 38, there are no passing lanes for most of the way.
I was five minutes late for the opening, and we would have been the low bidder had I gotten there.
I wanted to die. The only mitigating factor is that we would have left too much money on the table to be totally happy about it, so my husband and my partner don’t want to kill me.
I hate you Pathfinder driving donkey raper!!
Well, if it was a David Mamet play…
At this point, I say “Excuse me” once and then I shove through what/whoever I must.
To the OP: On the flip side, I’ll often see an empty space in the garage at work because some jackass in the next space is parked way over the line. If the offending car is on the right, I’ll go ahead and park in the empty space, making sure I’m perfectly centered between the lines. Which also happens to mean that I’m three inches away from the offender’s car it’s impossible for the jackass to enter on the driver’s side.
I’ve gotten shit for it here, but whatever. Don’t park like an asshole (to be sure, this is NOT directed at the OP) and it’s not a problem.