Beware the mini-Rants of March (4th or otherwise)

The BBQ Pit
21

Over a quarter-century ago, when the dinosaurs roamed the earth, I played women’s varsity basketball and track & field (as well as club-level soccer). I can’t remember ever hearing any music played through the PA system at any of those events. Don’t remember ever hearing it at the men’s teams’ games, either.

Sure, major college sports events like football games have always had the national anthem to start with and the band playing at halftime, but what the hell is THIS? Eardrum-splitting commercial band recordings of rock and rap songs played through the loudspeaker at top volume periodically during the games? Who thought this was a good idea?

Jesus on a boombox, does EVERYTHING have to have a soundtrack these days? Can’t you play a game to the accompaniment of the yells of the crowd, the whistle of the referee, and the occasional remarks of the announcer without spewing canned music all over the place every few minutes?

22

Stop going to Martini bars with her…

23

God, I hate being in pain. My knees have been acting up to the point that I can barely get up out of my chair. Last night I barely slept because of the pain. At this point I’m not gonna make it to 40 with all my original equipment.

:crawls off to find more drugs:

24

I think the most sobering bit for me was the man who said that most of the folks on Wall Street and in the financial houses **had no savings **and were therefore completely dependent on their incomes. That’s just wrong.

25

“Can I get an apron? Mine was dirty.”

Hm, they have these things called washing machines you know? And barring that you could always spot-clean it. Better than nothing. Lazy-ass.

“Can I get a new hat - I think I left mine in my friend’s car.”

Another new hat? Your friend’s car must be full of hats!

“Can I get a new Micros card? I can’t find my old one.”

Didn’t I just make you a new one the other day? Keep it in your wallet dumbfuck.

“I don’t know where my non-slip shoes are!”

Look you dumb bitch, I know those non-slips aren’t exactly stylish (which is exactly what this is all about) but you have to wear them for the sake of safety. I’m fucking sick and tired of explaining this to you.

“You mean it’s not okay to work in the kitchen with my ponytail hanging down? And why can’t I walk around with my earphones in? And why can’t I wear my non-regulation hat backwards? And why does my shirt have to be tucked in?”

Because you’re not fucking special. And your fucking music sucks anyway.

I really hate some of my co-workers.

26

Dear Mom and Dad: you know I love you to death, but just once, could you stick to plans that you yourselves dream up and outline to me? Once? Yesterday’s “We’ll come over tomorrow afternoon and bring an early dinner, and we’ll call on the way in, so we can pick up whatever you need from the grocery store,” turned into today’s show up with no notice and no food. Grr. I’m almost always happy to see them, and they certainly aren’t required to bring anything for anyone, but now I have nothing thawed for dinner, no butter, eggs, or bread, and a grumpy husband who is switching from night shift to days and got no sleep today because his nap was interrupted by in-laws showing up out of the blue, two hours sooner than expected.

Also: Mom, if you’ve posted something political and controversial on your Facebook page several times, and received no response or a very non-commital response from both me and Tony, it’s because we don’t agree with your position, but we know your opinion isn’t going to change. Please don’t bring it up in conversation. Today’s subject was the recent shooting of a Marine veteran by the state police SWAT team. Mom has some notion that real life works like the movies, and that a 4-hour standoff with an armed man with firearms training and PTSD, who had been firing at neighbors’ homes, should have ended with a non-fatal disabling shot from a police sniper. My husband - a 20-year veteran of military and civilian law enforcement - tried to explain the reasons that it doesn’t work that way IRL. And I held to the position that I feel terrible for the guy’s family, but I wouldn’t want my husband to risk his life being a hero in that situation. Mom’s opinion hasn’t changed, but she certainly made her visit a lot less pleasant.

(The pediatrician was doing a family medical profile recently. The question of mental illness came up, and my husband joked about my crazy mom. I corrected him: my mother isn’t crazy, but she’s definitely a carrier for both mental illness and high blood pressure.)

27

For what it’s worth, one of the QA inspectors got tired of hearing him say it today. This guy knows how to say (and use) the word “shaken”; he’s started with this “shooken” business in the last few weeks.

Sadly, none of my interactions with this guy involve Martini bars. :wink:

28

I keep a candy dish on my desk. Lately I’ve had lots of Gummi Bears. One of my coworkers pronounces it “goomie” bears and every time she walks by she takes some and says “mmmm, I love goomie bears!” And every time I want to stick my letter opener into my ears.

29

Seems like it would be easier to just stab her instead. Or just make her watch this.

30

I hate trade-offs.

For the longest time, I just wanted to feel something. Sad, angry, happy…it didn’t matter. Just something to remind me that I’m real and not just a disembodied head.

So I got my wish granted finally. I feel. I feel sad, confused, and other things I don’t know how to verbalize. I also feel pleasure. Yay.

But now my thoughts are all messed up. The loud repeating thing is back. I can’t speak spontaneously in any intelligent way because I mispronounce everything and put words in the wrong order. My speech rambles as I try to gather my thoughts and box them into words, while the listener’s face just looks more and more perplexed. Crazy words spill out of my mouth involuntarily for no reason at all. All of this happened when I was apathetic, but because I was apathetic I didn’t care. Now I’m embarrassed and ashamed constantly. But I’m trying to be strong and deal with it and not make it a “thing”. I’m tired of always having a “thing.”

So that’s the trade-off of my life. To have the privilege of emotions, I must surrender the ability to control my mind. I would say that I’d like to go back to being a disembodied head, but then I’d have to surrender laughter and pleasure. And taste buds.

31

So I text my husband at work “I love you!!!” just 'cause I felt like it.

An hour later, during his lunch, he called to ask why. So I tell him ‘no reason.’ He asks half a dozen more questions about what’s going on, what I’m doing, etc. He finally says, “Well, it’s just completely out of character for you.”

I has a sad :frowning:

32

Sad face for MOA.

Your world got really jacked up and you are trying to make it normal again. Your hubby’s world also got jacked up. Maybe its possible that he was really worried about you and distracted about his work.

33

No, that’s just right. That makes me laugh with my evil laugh. Just you wait, bastards. Your time will come.

34

This disease has infected high-school sports as well. I have a teenager who holds a leadership position in her band. As such, she is privileged to start and stop them, and gets a few solos as well. During many of these events, the idiot coach believes he needs to blast this garbage at his (mostly losing) team to encourage them. We literally cannot hear the band, and they cannot hear her cadence or commands!. This is why I attend only the halftime of the football games (arrive near end of 2nd quarter, leave after bands play). If I wanted I goddamned rap concert, I’d buy a ticket to one.

35

I’m sitting here gathering tax documents together and realizing we’ll definitely pay more percentage wise than Mitt Romney even though we make a lot less than he does. Why the hell should I vote for someone who thinks this is okay?

36

Is your official title “Baby-sitter,” by any chance? :slight_smile:

I has a sad for you and Monstro. :frowning:

37

I has a :eek:

Bill signed a medical power of attorney for me while he was in the hospital so I could talk to his medical care providers. Bill started his physical therapy on Friday, so I faxed and emailed copies to the clinic and called today to see how it went from their prospective.

Bill thought the resistance on the machines was too low so put more weight on them. This upset the nice PT people quite a bit. Now I have more people who will call me and complain about him.

I called him and told him that if he got caught again, he would be sleeping on the couch when he flies out next weekend. He* laughed *at me. He didn’t just cuckle, it was a full on belly laugh that ended with him groaning and I assume grabbing his pillow. He then told me that he’d get plenty of pussy on the couch because he knows to carry kitty treats in his pocket.

So, not only are Bill’s doctors calling me to bitch me out over his noncomplience, he’s bribing my cats. And those whores will fall for it! (my lil FIV kitty got nicknamed Jane Fonda the last time Bill here. She moved under his bed for the visit. Traitor Bitch!!!)

38

Why does this not surprise me? Can’t manage other people’s money, can’t manage their own…

39

I’ve really enjoyed our time together, Word Mole, and I don’t say that to just any game that came pre-installed on my phone. I haven’t even tried Sudoko, for instance. I had my doubts about you, frankly, as I’m not big on word games. But you’ve delivered.

You’ve been there on the train for me. You’ve been there when I needed a way to discretely pass the time during a meeting. And when I had the flu a couple weeks ago? Hey, I sure didn’t see Skyrim spending all that time in the can with me.

You’re easy to play, what with the little trackball, you’re really well-adapted to your platform. You really bring the tension as the seconds tick down and I need at least a six-letter word. Good times.

But where did you get your dictionary, Word Mole? “Round” is acceptable but “rounds” isn’t? I know that’s a word. TV doctors go on their “rounds”. I think it’s like a bus or something, some kind of hospital bus. Makes a lot of sense when you think about it. Hospitals are big. They just don’t show them getting on and off their “rounds” due to budget constraints, I guess.

And that time you wouldn’t take “jilting”. OK, maybe that’s not a word. So I changed it to “jilted”. No dice. C’mon, that’s totally a word. Nope, you said, “WORD NOT FOUND”. Not found where, Word Mole? Because if I look in the dictionary it’s gonna be there. Spellcheck likes it, and you know what a picky pedantic asshole spellcheck is. Look at that fucker, putting red wavy lines under perfectly good words like “asshole” and “spellcheck”. You know, if I get the letters, I’m not even going to try either one. I learned my lesson with “farting” and “farted”.

Fine, fuck it. “Jilts” it is.

“WORD NOT FOUND”.

You lying little bitch, Word Mole, you’re a lying bitch of a garden pest.

Then today, you wouldn’t accept “Warlocks”. Nope, nor would you accept the singular. Oh, right, like Paul Lynde just made that word up for Bewitched. That man never made up a word in his life. He was the soul of linguistic rectitude, Word Mole, and I have that on good authority, a real stickler, and here you are calling him a word maker upper.

I know you can do better, Word Mole.

40

Hugs to all the sads.

This is about to be long and boring…

I have had a horrible day/week. I thought I was almost halfway done with the hard part of the scrapbooking. Each book I do for the players has a “player page” for each member of the team. These are the most labor intensive part of the books, as each page has both photos and lettering. I have a cricut machine, which cuts the letters, but they have to have adhesive put on them and be placed on the page.

I thought I was doing 5 books, and had 4 sets of player pages done.

Oh SHIT no. I’m doing 6 books and have 3 sets of player pages done. Each set of player pages is 20 pages.

My cricut machine’s blade went … then the blade on the paper cutter. That’s $20 in blades. Replaced the blades. Cricut doesn’t like the paper. I could have CHEWED neater letters.

I know this is such a NOT big deal in the larger scheme of things…but I make these books for a reason. The kids who play pro hockey at this level aren’t going to make the Big Show - I want them to have something to show their grandkids. I take pride in whatever I do - my grandfather used to say “if you’re a ditchdigger, be the best damned ditchdigger they ever saw.”

So I’m sitting at the computer, surrounded by very happy cats (who aren’t allowed into the scrapbooking area) and I will start again tomorrow.

On the gall bladder front - I have had to add Sonic’s chili dogs to the list of things my gall bladder has decided isn’t good for me. Otherwise…have any of our regular readers had gall bladder problems? I’m having some…um…digestive issues I’d like advice on.