I put my Festivus pipe up in the front yard and someone stole it. :mad:
There’s an xkcd for that.
(And I think there’s been other Festivus threads in the past ten years. Why this one?)
Is that a grievance?
Please, please, PLEASE, can we have just one day a year without hearing the incessant whine of your fucking leaf blower? Every. Single. Day, for hours, you’re out there with the leaf blower, even if there’s a foot of snow and no leaves, except in your sick imagination. And don’t think I haven’t seen you sweeping the street in front of your house. And I’m not forgetting about the “Keep off the grass” signs around your lawn, when the only person ever on it is you with your fucking leaf blower. And you know that none of the neighbors will complain to your face, because you’re an ex-con, incarcerated for armed robbery. You’re a sick, sick man. Please get help.
You got a problem? File a grievance. I liked this one.
Well, it does have a high strength-to-weight ratio. You put that in your yard, it’s like putting a really useful pile of gold out there.
Being stuck in a shitty job with a shitty boss who marginalizes and ignores (I am not the only one) , who is unable to admit his mistakes (and blames others) and inability to reply to a message or complete a review in a timely manner.
He is about to be let go, and if not I am leaving.
He was just getting into the spirit of Festivus by showing off his feats of strength. 
Feats don’t fail me now.
Good King Sauerkraut look out!
On your feets uneven.
I find tinsel distracting.
A couple weeks ago, I got some bad news from the doctor, and waited for days to have someone to talk to about it. When my sister finally came to visit, she kept interrupting me and acted like she’d rather be anywhere but talking to me. I told her that she had a very busy life, why don’t she leave and get back to it. So, we had a conversation/argument that lasted well under five minutes, and we haven’t talked since. She got a murderous look on her face and said,“Reap what you sow”, to which i replied to her back as she walked out, “Asshole!”, and we haven’t spoken since. A bit harsh, I thought, tossing a biblical curse at me because I needed someone to talk to.
I don’t regret a word.
Dearest soon to be officially my ex, you lack empathy, conscience, impulse control, the ability to think in depth or to understand complexity and subtlety and nuance. emotions and emotional reactions baffle you. You are the only thing that matters in your world. You lack education and are proud of it. You are close minded, ignorant, racist, you think you are smarter than everyone you meet because you are secretive, manipulative, stubborn and needlessly abrasive so that people do whatever it takes to get away from you as fast as possible. I WANT our son to have a relationship with you. Despite your protestations to the contrary, HE is the one who wants to limit his time with you, and HE is the one who decided he was going to live with me.
For 9 years I have watched you reject and ignore and belittle him daily, while I looked on through rose tinted glasses. His good grades this year are not a miracle, they are the result of his hard work and you not being in our home making it hostile for him and for education. You have this self image of yourself as someone grand, noble, honorable, and a good parent. Everyone has a self image like that, the thing is, most people realize, at some level, that it is what we want to be, not what we are and that what we are in reality rarely matches that self image. You vehemently defend your self image and actively set out to punish any who violate it. Now, I pity your child due in may with your soon to be new husband(him I don’t pity, he deserves you) and I just want you to go away and never look back, so that our, my son can heal from all those years of daily rejection and belittlement at your hands. Keep your money, don’t call don’t write don’t text. I would much rather deal with him going through the process of losing you all at once than 10 more years of you tormenting him. We are truly better off without you.
Dear sister in law, stop competing with your 20 year old daughter and act your age. Especially stop making goo goo eyes at her boyfriend. Plus, the Spider-Man wallet you got me for Christmas is an awesome present—for the 11 year old I regifted it to. The last Spider-Man movie I saw had Toby Maguire in it, and I actually have a wallet. Which I often pull out to pay for your daughter’s therapy, while you buy cannabis spray for your rescue dog that you can’t be bothered to train. And please practice ordering from the menu at restaurants instead of grilling the server and trying to create new dishes while the rest of us are just trying to order because we’re hungry because you were late. Again.
Other than that, I got nothing. I’m pretty lucky, no irony implied or intended.