Nice, I’m going to get off two separate Denis Leary blasts in one post.
“Bring me the head of Barry Manilow! I want to have a Barry Manilow skull keg party at my place. You write the songs, we drink the beer out of your head!”
And, from the Lock n Load CD:
“Ahhh, you know what really fuckin pisses me off about these CDs? You fuckin buy em, and then, you can’t fuckin open them! And when you DO open them, it takes forever with all the plastic and theres that sticker and that’s all stuck to your fingers and then theres that stupid silver fucking DOG BONE thing…”
Good little trick for those evil CD cases. To get around that sticker they put on the top to prevent the case from opening - pop the bottom hinge off. You can then flip the top off the case, and pull the two parts of the case apart, making it much easier to get the sticker off… and get to your CD. (I hope that made sense).
And, that car? The one going off the cliff? Celine Dion should of course be in there. And Mariah Carey. STFU, beyotches, no one cares.
I’ve been renting a room from this guy since November.
When we talked about sharing a place, I was very clear about my requirements. 1 roommate and I do not share a bathroom. That’s it. I was OK with anything else other than illegal drugs in the home.
He’s already asked me twice about renting out the 3rd bedroom and would I be OK with it. And I have the same talk with him. My requirements haven’t changed. I said if he needed a 2nd roommate, I would leave and he could find two other people. Today he tells me he HAS to have two roommates.
FUCK!!!
I have to move again. AGAIN!!! I do not have the energy for this shit. I’m tired of other people’s problems affecting my living situation. (some of you may recall that I had to leave an apartment last August because my roommate starting shooting heroin again)
I’d like to deliver a resounding THWAP to the side of the head of any restaurant manager who thinks that a “nonsmoking section” located about six inches away from the smoking section, when there is no form of physical barrier separating the two sections, is of any use to anyone.
What, do the smoke molecules instinctively know not to proceed across that 6-inch bit of air, so as not to cause distress to nonsmoking/asthmatic/allergic etc patrons? HELLO? :dubious:
Newsflash to restaurant managers, hosts, hostesses, etc: when an incoming patron ASKS to sit in the nonsmoking section, that means it MATTERS to them whether or not they’re inhaling someone else’s smoke while they’re trying to enjoy their meal. DO NOT put them at the very next table over from the end of the smoking section, with absolutely nothing between them and other customers’ smoke, and consider your mission accomplished. :smack:
P.S. Putting the cash register, and the path to the restrooms, in the smoking section doesn’t show the greatest possible amount of foresight, either.
Bring me the head of those people who design pasta packages so that the cooking time is buried in several paragraphs of instructions on how to cook pasta. In size 6 font.
Even bachelors in college know how to cook pasta, for Christ’s sake! Just print the cooking time in great big type right on the front of the package, for the love of God!
-pugluvr, tired of trying to find her reading glasses every five minutes
What did Barry Manilow do to deserve such rage? He’s a really sweet fellow,y’know.Plus…even though he is on the verge of old geezerhood,I still find him incredibly attractive.drools
IDBB(who really wishes there was a duck-and-run smilie)
Death to the retarded idiot who made varying sound commercials. Especially when you are drifting off to sleep, and suddenly you fly off the couch, bed, or wherever because someone wants you to buy the newest femine hygine product!
Aslo death to my boss who looks at the phone when it rings, and he says “Oh thats so and so about the call I have been waiting for…” Then he looks at me and says answer the phone. So I answer the phone, and they say “Hi this is so and so, can I talk to the boss?” so I hand the phone over…
Also death to whoever made husbands think to ask the go get them something to drink, after you just sat down, and are working on something…
Okay, I am done for now…
Oh, and the spit sucker at the dentist they keep sticking in your mouth when you don’t have to spit anything out. It just dries out your mouth, and when you go to talk, your tounge gets stuck to the roof of your mouth. Which leads me to why the hell does the dentist ask you questions when he is working on your mouth?!?!:smack:
When you purchase dried pasta, buy Barilla. They put the approx cooking time on the front of the package right at the bottom of the lil’ plastic window. In a yellow font, no less. Can’t miss it.
