This is why the word “No” was invented.
Are you Mrs. Plant’s sock puppet? :dubious:
I mini-pit my “best friend”, the fucking white cow. I really don’t give a flying fuck if your phone isn’t working and you can’t call your husband. He’s at WORK earning a living so you can stay home with the kids. He’ll be home tonight, like he always is. So, boo hoo, you can’t talk to him for a few hours. (And between preview and post, someone magically arrived home. Isn’t it odd how things become routine!?)
I have my own issues, honey. I can’t deal with your overdramatic bull shit.
So now, I pit myself. People pleaser, faking sincerity, faking enthusiasm. That bites ass. Knock it off. (OTOH, it’s probably why I’m still employed where I am. Maybe, don’t knock it off, but don’t feel obligated to be nice.)
I also pit myself for being a procrastinator. Skipping class today to avoid having to turn in the report I haven’t yet written was a bad, bad idea. There is one class left, in two days, which will consist of a final exam. If I end up passing this class with a “C”, I’ll owe the cosmos something huge. Stop putting stuff off and you might actually get somewhere in life. (This isn’t working so well. I feel like a dumb ass trying to guilt trip myself, lol.)
Thanks for listening!
Stupid 3 hour long AlcoholEdu course shouldn’t be mandatory if you’re over 21. This is beyond stupid, not only am I 25 (with grey hairs, even!), I don’t even live anywhere near campus, let alone *on *campus. I work 45 hours a week and commute 2 hours a day, I just can’t be bothered with this shit. Make it a freshman requirement if you must, but leave me out of it.
Oh well, at least I can get my petty revenge by having a nice G&T while I’m getting it done.
They’ve already done that at Target, at least in this area. All of their allergy and cold medications have been replaced with a picture of each item, with little tags underneath. You take the tag for the product you want (but no more than three, I think) and take it to the pharmacy counter.
To people in general during busy hours: Please don’t breeze through the doorway and let it close in someone else’s face. It will take a mere ounce of effort on your part to push the door open as you walk through, thus allowing enough room for the people behind you to get through as well. In return, we will push the door open so that the people behind US can get through.
Also, if someone holds the door for you, why not say “thank you”? Just a thought.
Also, can we try smiling once in awhile?
And if there is a line up at the fast-food joint, and it’s one single line up at busy lunch hour in front of three working cash registers, and the cashiers are taking people quickly from the one line up, and that seems to be working quite well, why don’t you join the fucking line, instead of deciding that you will be the Ass Pioneer that will start a Magical Second Line wherein you are FIRST?! Do you think that I was waiting in the single line because I was hoping someone would start a CONGA, YOU BUTT MONKEY?!?
Phew. Thanks, I feel better.
Please allow me to say I am so glad you joined, if for nothing else than I got to see the phrase “Ass Pioneer” today.
The purpose is not to stop people from making meth. The purpose is to make you sleep better knowing our government is Doing Something to solve this crisis.
See, most politicians know there’s no possible way to solve the social problems behind the Moral Panic of the Week*, but they’ve got to throw a bone to the yapping dogs to keep their jobs. They also know that by the time people figure out that the “solution” didn’t work, they’ll be comfortably retired, or can blame it on interference from the opposing party. But, for the time being, they have to be actively Doing Something or seem uncaring.
I’m not so mad at the politicians for using a tactic that works. I’m more angry at the apathetic populace which allows itself to be placated.
- The other politicians fall under the idealist category, and they’re the scariest of the bunch. These guys go out and create problems to “solve” rather than wait for the media to do it.
Dear E.,
I sent you two e-mails informing you that the meeting date had been changed, and asking you to please change the date on the club website. The first e-mail was last Wednesday. The second e-mail was last Friday. Today, I called the president of the club and asked him to call you to request the change. I got an e-mail from you telling me you had received my two e-mails. SO WHY HAVEN"T YOU CHANGED THE DATE ON THE WEBSITE, YOU NUMB FUCKING CUNT? You volunteered to do the upkeep on the website. No one asked you to do it. So if you are going to volunteer to do it, FUCKING DO IT!
You gave the corresponding secretary last season a ration of shit all season long. I am corresponding secretary now, and you will not do that to me. I will make you look like a total ass in front of the entire club, which my predecessor was much too nice a person to do. I am a nice person, but I have a very wide streak of bitch, and I will not play your little power games. Go through menopause some fucking place else.
Thank you. I feel much better.
Piggy backing on this in my best Frank Slade voice: And Ramada Inn Tuscaloosa and Extended Stay American in Roanoke Virginia, FUCK YOU TWO TOO!!!
I can tolerate mistakes- light bulbs sometimes burn out and don’t get changed or the pillows on a particular bed are old, it happens- as long as it’s taken care of, no problem. But in both of these places the rooms were shitholes and the staff was not only utterly incompetent but unconcerned and downright fucking rude. I didn’t write a letter to the Ramada but I did to Ext. Stay America (both Roanoke and fucking corporate) and never got so much as a “we’re sorry, please stop by to kiss our stupid hillbilly asses on your way back through”. Motherfuckers.
Some personal mini-rants that I don’t have the energy or time to develop into full OTs:
To my friend Tim’s sister R: YOU FUCKING LITTLE STUPID ASS CUNT! HOW THE FUCK CAN YOU GET PREGNANT AAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNN!!! You’ve had two “miscarriages” (one was just really really conveniently timed) and two abortions and you’re 24 years old, you know what’s fucking causing it by now. And you have the nerve to say you’ve given your life to Jesus (which makes those ugly ass Dollar General ties I’ve gotten from co-workers over the years look downright thoughtful and exquisite as gifts go- I’m guessing Jesus is going to exchange your sorry ass for store credit as soon as he can find a fucking manager not having DTs to work the cash register) and want a baby as a sign of God’s love… What the fuck ever. Bitch, you’ve had two miscarriages… if you really believe in God sending signs, then what the fuck do you think he’s killing the unborn babies that you miss is? You’re broke, you’re stupid, you’re uneducated, you’re living with your mother and your brother in a tiny apartment and this guy you won’t get out of your fucking system already has a child he can’t support and he’s such an oxygen thief it should be a felony level (yeah yeah, I know, he’s talking about joining the army- the scrawny little cum maker has “Enemy Fire Drawing Diversionary Tactic Expendable Division” written all over him). There aren’t enough Kuh’s in cunt to describe what I think of you.
On a personal level to my own sister: you own a fucking beach house, a fucking beach condo, a century old house with 500 feet of river frontage, a ranch style house with a pool, a Jaguar convertible, two pick-ups, a WW2 recon plane (yes, really), a Cessna that hasn’t flown in more than three years but you keep because you might, a 1964 1/2 Mustang housed in a warehouse that you also own, rental houses in three counties, a 2 acre lot on a lake, interest in two businesses, farmland and other shit I don’t even know about it and none of it’s mortgage and on top of it all by your own admission you didn’t retire until you had more than $1 million in cash and portfolios. But you have the fucking fucking bitch fucking Third World walking-postule-of-a-smack-and-ginger-Jake-addicted-$1-for-an-assfuck-whore nerve and low class to say that you won’t pay $3,400 to pay for a stairlift for the 71 year old mother who paid one fuck of a lot more than that to send you through college in style (which I never got) twenty odd years ago when $3,400 was a lot more money and who can barely walk and who wants to go home because “the doctor says she’s only got six months to live, why waste all that damned money on something that won’t be needed after then?” I can think of no other expletive free way of saying it other than You. Should. Be. Ashamed. of. Yourself. And I hope to high hell that when you’re old and alone and nobody gives a shit whether you drool your next breath that your bags and trucks full of cash cuddle up and stick their tongue in and give you oral pleasure because it’s the only thing you’ll fucking have because once our mother is dead to quote an Al Pacino character twice in one thread, “You are nothing to me”.
And to my next door neighbor: actually no rant at all really, but you have one hell of a cute ass in those Speedos, why won’t you ever undress in front of your open window?
Hey Trader Joe’s, could you guys please stop making such fabulous products? I now have to make two grocery trips each week. One to get all the great munchies from you guys. The other to the local ShopRite to stock up on the mundane necessities like toilet paper that you guys don’t stock.
Hey cats, I’ve fed you guys three times today. Please stop staring at me as if your little kitty tummies were completely empty.
I should pit myself for using the phrase, “you guys” four times in a single post. In my defense I did grow up in Brooklyn.
I’m going to bed before I committ any further cybergrammatical crimes.
Craptacular 55-gallon aquarium failure in my office this morning. Look at all that water. :eek:
The secretaries rescued the firemouth, most of the x-ray tetras and a few neons before I got in. I found the pleco, two more x-rays and another neon in the inch of water left around the gravel. The fish are now happily in their new tank.
That fuckernickel of a tank is outside the lab and I hope the hooligan that stole my flat of plants last year decides to take the tank.
A couple of years ago, one of my co-workers anted to get rid of a window air conditioner unit. He put it in the yard with a big sign that said FREE-- WORKS GOOD. He came into work one day and said the damn thing was still sitting there. No one would take it.
I proposed the obvious solution. I told him to go home and put up a new sign: FOR SALE-- $25. WORKS GOOD.
He came in the next day to tell me that it had been “stolen” within hours.
When all else fails, rely on the dishonest side of human nature.
Whew! I got exhausted just reading those rants.
LavenderBlue, I’m switching my cats to hairball food, and one of them thinks it’s kitty crack, apparently (not the one with the hairballs, of course). Every time I go near the food dish she magically appears to demand that I fill it with her new favourite thing in the world.
Thank You! Looking back, of course I meant to say that if bulbs were burned out, I’d just call the front desk. In my case, I was just angry because they were physically missing from the lamps. How could a maid clean the room without any lamp-light? (not that she did in that one case) And to be fair, I recently had a really good experiance at a Hampton Inn. (Yes, the beds Are that comfortable. I wish I knew their vendor, because I’d like one that soft in queen-size for home.)
But, I have another rant (sorry, its been that kind of week):
To the thieves who stole the chairs off my front porch: I’m so glad you liked the concert in the park. Its just a shame you couldn’t plan your ass-comfort before you drove into my neighborhood. Yes, they were only $4 plastic resin patio chairs, but that’s not the point is it, you miserable scumbag thief? Yes, thief…you didn’t put them back when your hemoroids were done with them, did you? You didn’t even leave them in the park after the concert. I hope the legs snap under your weight of your ignorance, your shame, and the weight of your lazy fat ass!!!
Goddamn squirrel-fucking squirrel-begotten squirrels eating ALL my fucking tomatoes.
Dumbass misguided neighbors leaving out corn to feed overpopulated fucking squirrels. Assholes.
Perhaps they theory is that our little rodent friends will lie around full of corn belching and leave your tomatoes alone.
If that is the case, it appears to not be working.
I’m a feeder. I coldn’t keep the squirrels from dumping my bird feeders, so I put up a squirrel feeder and it worked.