Screams, runs into the bedroom and hides in the closet. Scribbles a note and pushes it under the door “I used to like you. Butthead!!!”
QFT. If you are being followed, and scared, call 911. Do not go home. You don’t want a dangerous person knowing where you live.
I’m sorry for you. Honestly there is nothing else I can say, because I understand pain and not getting relief. Drunk is good, I hope you can sleep the night without waking up to pee.
Shrug
OW!
Unshrug…
I have a lot of times when things hurt, but this one is irritating because I don’t know what started it, and I can’t seem to make it stop, or at least settle some. Stupid shoulder. I don’t have time for this - I have to drive to Escondido tomorrow!
(wow. I can type good when drunk)
Was Theresadriving the truck?
curlcoat I hope your shoulder settles down so you can drive.
I was thinking more about the bird inpact into windshield study.
Hey longhaired BitchCat that does it. You dug your claws into me when I was gently petting you and you got distracted by a piece of lint. You’re getting a claw clipping and a bath.
Hey squirrel: the seed wreath is for the hungry little birds, not disgusting vermin. Kindly throw yourself under the wheels of the next vehicle to drive by my house.
To the announcer on the classical program I’m listening to.
Get on with the music. Announcers either always give too much or occasionally too little information. Whenver an announcer says something that gets me fired up about hearing the upcoming selection, they can never resist adding on a minute or ten of superfluous pontificating about the composer and the piece’s merits.
I just zoned out during the introduction, and then zoned back in to the radio only to notice the introduction’s still going on. Fuck you, play the damn music.
Gaaarrghhhh. Our government has just privatised our bin collection, which is just a wonderful idea all round anyway, but don’t get me started. The company sends us a thing saying we have to register and pay large amounts of money in advance with automatic top-ups at their whim or they won’t collect our bins. OK, I go online, credit card at the ready.
Welcome! Please login with your customer ID number and verification code.
There’s no customer ID number on the junk they sent us, but I type in the account number they sent us.
There’s nothing remotely resembling a verification code, so I click on ‘No password.’
They ask me for my customer ID number again. I type it in again. They tell me that my password has already been set and I should click on ‘forgot password’ to reset it.
I click on ‘forgot password’. They demand my customer ID and e-mail address.
I type them in. They tell me my customer ID is invalid.
GGAARRRGHHHHHHH. It’s Orwellkafkacentral. And now tomorrow I have to ring their customer service number which I assume is going to be at least as much fun.
Welcome, eclecticwench! I’ll be glad to help you set up your account! All I’ll need is your customer ID number…
And if you refuse to give me your customer ID, I’m going to hang up on you.
I can handle that. You’re not usually gonna hear me complaining about being too hot. Well, except for this past weekend when boyfriend and I went out of town and our hotel room heater was stuck on “Atomic Bomb”. Even on the lowest setting we were sweating. So we turned the air conditioner on. In the middle of January.
Didn’t occur to me until after we left to call the front desk and complain. :smack:
Sending pain-free thoughts to curlcoat.
When they called a few minutes later, I told them that since we didn’t hear back from them, we had decided on a quiet evening in and they were still welcome to join us. However, we were already in our pajamas and just eating pizza, so we told them to eat on the way over. They just ate pizza and we had a fun evening anyway. Just a little irksome!
Thank you both! As it turned out, I went into the clinic last night to get a cortisone shot, which allowed me to sleep when added to Soma and Vicodin. But I wasn’t able to go to Escondido today and tomorrow is looking iffy.
Grumble.
Tony. Again. Sighs.
He got rear ended in my old worn out car. I’m OK with that, I have a spare car. The car is still driveable, but fixing the damage will total it.
Tony won’t wear a seatbelt, so when he got hit, he got slammed into the steering wheel and let his foot off the brake and hit another car. The airbag deployed and Tony lost his glasses.
I have good insurance, so all of this was covered…except for the part where Tony assulted the drunk that had hit him and the drunk pulled out a gun and shot the cop car.
Edited to add that I don’t think that I’m responsible for the damage to the cop car. Think being the operative word here.
Tony. sigh.
If I never see that stupid fucking jfk and hitler strippers jpg again, it will be too soon. Not only is it not funny, but it can’t even get its own damn shibboleth right.
Oh, that Tony and his highjinks.
On the bright side, at least Tony didn’t get shot? And presumably the cop is overlooking the whole assaulting the drunk driver thing, after GETTING HIS CAR SHOT?
And no, you’re not responsible for it. Any of it.
Just don’t be surprised if other insurance companies think that your insurance company might need to chip in. I’m not saying that this will actually happen, but just expect that this might take a while to sort out. Tony not wearing a seatbelt might get scrutinized, too.
That’s speaking from my experience as the passenger (with husband driving) in the third car in a stopped-for-a-red-light chain reaction rear-ending. Refer any callers to your insurance company, and tell Tony to do likewise about anything car-related.
What is this weird virus going around? First my husband got a cough and chest congestion with no real sickness, then a couple of days later I got it, and now I feel like I’m getting a cold (and I still have the chest congestion). I’ve never had a cold virus like this before - has anyone else had it?
Oh yeah, the mini-rant part is that I feel like I’m getting a cold. I hate colds. :mad:
AAAIIEEEE you are both very bad people. (But I needed the laugh.)
In the end I wimped out and just went down to the post office and gave them a chunk of money to stick on our card. With any luck this should mean we don’t have to deal with the whole issue again for a while. This is assuming the money actually went onto our card the way it was supposed to, which I figure is about a 50/50 shot.