I find myself split with my ire. We found out last night that a friend of my wife’s has been arrested for having child porn on his computer. If he’s found guilty, then he should obviously face the consequences. However I have a real problem with the local papers and TV news releasing not only his name and workplace, but also showing video of the front of his house while mentioning the street and block range (you know 3800 block of such and such street). What the hell? I mean come on…you really need to give out that much detail about this guy before he’s found guilty? Knowing what a hot topic and how emotional child porn makes people? I’m sure his wife and 2 kids are going to love the attention they’re sure to start recieving at home from this. Fucking asstards.
As much as I hate to be the bearer of bad news, there probably is a reason - they’re getting even worse. My mother got to the point where the only pair of shoes she could wear was no longer bearable, and had to have surgery. If you haven’t seen a doctor about your feet, you probably should, very soon.
He’s been in and out of the vet for an UTI, and we’re changing his food from low-grain food to that prescription w/d stuff. I suspect that’s what it was. But to be on the safe side, I’ll grab some tuna packed in oil for his dinner tonight.
If you’re finished, I wasn’t working for them, I was working for a travel guide company that mentioned them in one of their guides. It kind of blindsided me.
I let a friend drink from my coke today. He left a little bit of chewed up Dorito floating in it. It was gross.
April 24 is noted on our workplace calendar as “Jean’s Day”. Who is Jean and why is she worthy of a special day? Oh, wait a minute. It’s the last Friday of the month. It’s jeans day.
I was finished, but I can continue if you like. 
Travel guides discuss small clothing shops?
Yes, in the “where to shop” section. Obviously this travel guide is targeted at rather a different class of people from those I normally travel among.
I hear you. I attend classes at a small business college, and every quarter, there’s a notice for the date and time of the “Honor’s Reception” posted on the white board in the student lounge. Guess who writes the notices? The DEAN!!! I fix it every single time.
And we got an email from some other official about an annual fundraiser for the humane society that had the name of our own city misspelled. WTF am I paying you $2000 a quarter for if your own employees wouldn’t pass COMP101?
Whee! Reading others’ mini-rants definitely lightens my mood.
Except for Dante’s.
Dante, I’m so sorry. We lost a dog to bone cancer three years ago last month. I’m still angry and frustrated about how his diagnosis and treatment were handled, but the only thing you can do is warn people away from this idiot of a vet. I want to kick cancer (and that vet) in the taint.
Kyla, those awful Power Point presentations with the slide by slide handouts where the person just reads the slides? I sat through one of those a few months ago. So painful. Just let us go home if you’ve got nothing to add to the printed material, we’ll read it there, I swear…
CanvasShoes, Ew, you sit on them? Are you one of those old ladies who wanders around naked for an hour? (I kid, I kid, but still that’s a weird gym phenom I remember from San Diego’s 24 Hour Fitness gyms, that and wads of long hair coming off the showerhead and hitting me in the face. How did it get up there if it wasn’t some sort of deliberate disgusting booby trap? Girls are gross.)
LurkMeister, I doubt you missed much, that show has been pretty painfully predictable. Agreed though, weather interrupts are laaaaaaaaame.
Atrael, that does totally suck and your concern is legitimate. There are some real nutters out there.
I’m increasingly frustrated by all the leaking of information that isn’t pertinent and is certainly prejudicial, the salacious stuff that gets people to tune in. How about covering the important stuff that people really should know about, should worry about because it really will effect them? Nope, we want the sexy surfing squirrel stories or the “what you don’t know about 17 common household products that will molest your children and skullf#ck your dog! Tune in at 11!”
Meh.
My own mini-rant:
Wow, I wish I got so many hand sewn things made just for my loved ones packed carefully and priority mailed to my doorstep that I’d be so unimpressed that I couldn’t be arsed to even send an e-mail/text acknowledging their receipt. I guess that’ll teach me to shop off your Target Wishlists. Enjoy your sixpack of Mountain Dew and bulk case of Doritos, that’ll make a great heirloom gift for your ungrateful generations to come.
Jeez, what a Grandma-y mini-rant, but srsly, wtf? Are all so freaking busy taking Facebook quizzes that you can’t even drop a pm saying, “Thank you for the presents!” so I at least know your neighbor isn’t stealing your mail?
Hi, Beaver!
Look lady, because you say the old way was too hard to understand, you force everybody to accept and me to change the way I write the minutes for our meetings, from a narrative format to grid format – item, discussion, resolution, responsible person, and due date. I do that.
Then why did you show up half and hour late for our last meeting? I made sure to put the out-of-the-ordinary day and start time of 6:30 in the minutes. Oh? You didn’t read it, you say?
You’re still paying me for that half-hour I waited.
No kidding. Who *are *these people who can afford to even think about all the places listed in the high-end tour books?
And why aren’t I one of them, dammit! I wanna be a starbellied sneech!
Spring allergies.
I woke up this morning with my back upper teeth throbbing on account of my sinuses being stuffed full of mucus. It so sucks that everything here is pollenating but it’s still COLD. No justice, man.
Luckily I had some purely medicinal bourbon on hand. 
Background: I have some painful nerve damage to one foot, so am on a long-term regimen of pain meds. Tuesday afternoon I see my doc, and she and I decide to switch meds, to a once-every-12-hours med instead of a shorter-acting med. She writes up a scrip, and I walk over to the pharmacy next door to her office in the same building to get it filled.
So I come home, take my first pill at bedtime, my 2nd in the morning, and by midday I am feeling REALLY good. My husband says I sound like I’m drunk. I’m too dizzy and woozy to even dare to drive, and I’m nearly losing my balance frequently. I decide to give it a couple of days to see if the side effects are temporary and I’ll adjust to them, but by Thursday morning I’m even woozier, if such a thing is possible. So I place a call to the doc, who calls me back promptly and we start going over my meds. She says she’s surprised that 15 mg of this med would have that effect on me. 15 mg, I say? The scrip is for 60 mg!
Turns out that when she was filling in the prescription blanks on her computer, she failed to fill in the one for dosage but put a 60 in the quantity box. The pharmacist, instead of noticing there was no dosage, saw the 60 and decided that was the dosage as well as the quantity! So for 48 hours, I was taking four times more narcotic than I was supposed to!!
Needless to say, I now have a new scrip for a much smaller amount, and I’m hoping that by Monday the higher doses will be out of my system enough that I can actually drive again without risking everybody’s life and limb. To continue my horror, however, the pharmacist called me this morning to let me know the new scrip was ready and mentioned that he since it was his error, was oh-so-generously refunding my copay. Admitted he’d goofed on filling the scrip – but didn’t even show the slightest remorse or concern that he’d just prescribed a hefty amount of a narcotic rather than the very small amount that was supposed to be prescribed, and how much damage that could have done to the wrong person!
Should I report him to the state pharmacy board?
Yikes! That’s really scary.
I have no idea about reporting him; you might find this article on Consumerist interesting.
Dear computer virus,
Go fuck yourself for stealing my hard drive.
Dear Me,
Go fuck yourself not backing up files.
Dear Geeks,
Please tell me you can rescue my lost files.
Dear Ice Cold Week,
Go away and do not come back ever.
Dear teacher,
If you’re going to give an obnoxious assignment that will keep me annoyed for a whole week working on it and then up all night the night before finishing it up, please don’t change your mind on the day it’s supposed to be due and decide we’re not doing it. Maybe the kids who didn’t do it liked that, but I did not. It’s a nice thing to do for a teacher to un-assign something, but it’s only nice if you un-assign it BEFORE it’s supposed to be already done.
Annoyed with you again,
me.
Dear Titter Twins,
Sitting in the back of the room and whispering and giggling through the whole class is always annoying, but it’s a million times more annoying when there are only five people in the class.
Also, it’s annoying and hurtful when you two giggle every time I say something. Honestly, how old are you? I was really hurt the first couple times, but then I realized that I’m way too old to be worrying about mean boys making fun of me at school. That doesn’t make it any less annoying, though, and you need to shut up, grow up, and get over yourselves.
Also… I’m sick of hearing from both of you that almost all girls who say they’ve been raped are either lying or it was their own fault. I don’t know how you manage to work that into every conversation. The fact that you seriously think that makes me really angry, but I’ve given up trying to get it into your thick symbiotic skulls because I’ve realized it’s an exercise in futility.
No love,
Iz
To the MLB.tv rep who kindly returned my service call within the 48 hour time period your auto-reply e-mail promised: It’s not your fault they off-shored their support. You sound like a decent fellow, and the language barrier issues aren’t your fault. However, you’re the one they assigned to my problem, so you get the rant. My e-mail request very clearly stated the problem I was having. I assume you have a copy of that request in front of you. How can you possibly get every aspect of my problem incorrect? How? I’m sorry I hung up on you after the third time you ignored my attempt to explain the issue and reverted to your support script. I promise you, it’s not my cookies. Dumb-asses.
Dear Grand Hyatt Hotel Reception, Doha, Qatar:
For a Five Star Hotel your telephone line carries nothing but static and buzzing with an occasional voice being heard but not understood. Better look into that.
Regards,
Clean your fucking hair off the shower drain. All of you. I don’t know who’s hair it is, but it’s gross and it’s sure as fuck not mine because it’s more than half an inch lont, and it’s fucking gross.