Our city-run dog parks explicitly state that kids under 12 are not allowed. Yes it sucks for those of us with dogs and kids, but I’m not about to be “that guy” who gets pissy that dogs are messing with my kids who aren’t even supposed to be there.
When eating out with a group, the appropriate time to complain about the restaurant that was chosen is NOT AT the restaurant. That’s just rude to their staff. And it’s too late to fix it this time, and too soon to fix it for next time.
And claiming that you can’t eat a heavy, fat laden meal that late at night is not helpful either. Yes, it was almost eight before we got there, and service was a little slow because late on Monday night . . . but suck it up, buttercup.
Oh, I’m sure there are age rules at our dog park as well. They have all sorts of rules, they even have a sign with height requirements to get into the big dog or little dog side. I don’t know how they got in, there are volunteer gatekeepers and I was watching my dog, not the gate. I only saw the poor lil kid toddling in front of the running dogs when they came around the bend.
It was just a really stupid move on the parent’s part, and they are lucky that the dogs involved were sight hounds. They paid attention to where they are going, missed the kid and kept on running. Some of the other big dogs play rough and if they had hit the poor kid, the outcome would have been much more painful than just falling down.
Or, what I like to say to the fur’ners who are aghast at their first single-digit temps:
“Yep, feels like winter’s on its way…”
Ever have one of those days when you open the fridge, and realize that it is warmer inside the fridge than the room is?
Yup, it’s that kind of day.
And then I’m telling the story to one of my professors, and he comes back with the fact his father didn’t come down for breakfast this morning.
I am SO ready for this year to be done.
I…I think the truck is gone! I’m going to have to go lie down now.
Wasn’t there any choice which wasn’t heavy and fat-laden?
I had a coworker who’d complain about his stomach problems while shoveling in a set of huevos rancheros with extra fries; after a couple of times we pointed out the rest of us were having meals which weren’t fried on top of fried and maybe if he did that he wouldn’t need to pop the stomach meds by the half-tube? We later moved to “dude, you’re the one who chose to sleep on the floor, stop complaining it’s hard.”
Dear Mom:
Stop telling me I should smile more. I know you’re too blinded by love to see it, but my smile makes me look like a teenager with Down syndrome. I’m fortunate enough to be able to avoid the sight of it by not looking in the mirror, but everyone who sees me on a regular basis doesn’t get that luxury. So out of courtesy, I don’t smile for them.
Oh, what’s that Mom? You think I’m wrong? Let’s ask one of my ex-girlfriends… oh wait, you can’t, because they don’t exist. Because my smile is ugly as shit and wouldn’t attract a hooker desperate for crack money if I had $100 bills stuck between my teeth.
Ten days, 27 hours of work missed, average low temp 25 degrees and finally the nightmare is over! The inspector actually showed up today and the utility guy came tonight and turned the gas back on. Whole house heating and hot water!!
And highs in the 60s for the rest of the week. Doesn’t that just figure? Fucking weather. (Just cause it’s the pit. 
)
I read a quote somewhere, and I’m sorry I can’t remember where it was, to the effect that there are dozens of reasons for a bus/train to be late, but there is absolutely no excuse to leave a stop early.
Around here, buses aren’t allowed to be early, but are allowed to be a little late.
I was under the impression that if a bus reaches certain stops on its run early, it’s required to wait until the scheduled time to depart, but I’m now not so sure, after yesterday (it did leave the stop several minutes ahead of schedule, according to the official clock on the bus itself). Yeah, my stop was one of the “time point” stops, too. (sigh)
I hate the local transit system, but don’t really have a good alternative. It would cost a lot more to drive, be at least as stressful (local “drivers” are self-centered, homicidal, and insane), and my husband does need the car at times, too (one car for two people is a pain, but it’s what we can afford).
I can’t take credit for that as, I think, it was Diosa that came up with it.
Two near me. Rule are pretty basic. Children must be supervised, you will be held responsible for your dog’s behavior, use at your own risk, etc.
Maybe that was the earlier bus that was actually running really late.
I’m guessing there are a lot of people who take the dog park rules as seriously as the people in my neighbourhood do - this dog is as big as a small horse, with only three kids to control it. Dogs must be under control at all times, but that dog wasn’t under anyone’s control but its own.
5 minutes away from the holiday luncheon at work.
Which means that I will have to make an excuse to not be there right at the beginning, because there will be the inevitable prayer led by the big boss man.
I work for a government agency.
Guess I’ll pretend to be on a phone call now.
FUCK CHRISTMAS. Fuck it in it’s ear!
There is no ‘War on Christmas’ but if there were, I would suggest we go nuclear. There should be atrocities! Secret prison camps! Waterboarding!
I hate Christmas cards! There is nothing more useless in the world than a Christmas card, especially from someone I am not at all close to.
I hate TV series at this time of year! Every one that has done a take on ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ or ‘ A Christmas Carol’ or other heartwarming glurge. FUCK YOU!
I hate Christmas music. I especially hate Christmas music where the words have been changed for a fucking commercial jingle.
I hate gift exchanges of any kind, but especially Christmas ones.
I hate Christmas lights! Er ……well, no. Christmas lights are kinda cool.
Most of all, I hate winter!!! I hate the cold and the short days. I want warmth and light!!
OK, that is all.
Bah Humbug!
I fully endorse this rant, and will add that Xmas lights are only cool when other people do them, and not when my SO nags me about why we should do them (“I don’t want to get up on a ladder to put up lights any more than I wanted to get on a ladder to paint the front of the house. The street slopes!” “But it’s only once a year…”). Still more than a week to go. I just might not make it.
Roddy