I am sick of the GOP candidates going on about how God told them to run for office, God called them to do what they do, yadda yadda.
Ya know…Anybody can make such a claim. That doesn’t make it true even if one believes in a God.
God may have told them to run for office, but He told me not to vote for them. Oh, what a prankster God is!
Why do I bother?
Because you still care? Because you were raised better? Because you can’t help yourself? Because you know in the long run it’s the right thing to do?
I had to go to Walgreen’s yesterday. There was a bell ringer at the door. I did not commit bloodshed, or even mumble under my breath where he could hear me. But I DID write a nasty letter to Walgreen’s HQ, with a copy to the Salvation Army, pointing out that it’s still nearly two weeks to Thanksgiving, and that I now have options where I don’t even have to enter the store, and be so fascinated by The Shiny that I pick it up and buy it. I can just get prescriptions by drive through, and everything else online.
Yesterday I spent two hours in a plane with five (5!) 17-18-ish boys in the seat row before me. Normally, that’s not a problem, I have a certain amount of tolerance for elated kids. I can even smile sympathetically to parents wrestling with a writhing, screaming two-year-old. But I swear to Og, my kids were better behaved at the age of six that these idiots are in their upper teens! Jumping, poking each other, wrestling in the seats so bad that if I accept the stewardess’ offer of a cup of coffee it’ll end up in my lap b/c the baboon in front of me is so hyperactive that my table is literally jumping up & down. Holy crap, what kind of moronic, negligent shitstains failed to teach you how to behave in public? The noise even made it through my sound-canceling earbuds with the MP3 player at full volume!
And FTR, kids, applauding when the stewardess steps into the aisle to give the safety demonstration or when the plane lands is moronic. Just sayin’.
I’ve got a couple of stupid ones:
I’m taking the day off. My husband and I were originally supposed to spend the day together, but he had to work because there’s a huge deliverable tomorrow. I took it off anyway. I’ve been charged with not working and trying not to clean because I frequently bitch about having no “me” time. But this me time is killing me. I’m going to have to leave the house because I can’t sit here and not clean or work. It’s bugging the shit out of me.
And daytime TV is shit. I just saw a commercial where the durability of a product was proven by having two obese men sit on it. Classy.
Dammit. When I come back from lunch with my husband, after I get some much-needed clothes (which I also hate doing), I’m going to have to clean the hell out of this place and cook for the week. It’ll eat at me until I do. I’ll just have to bite my tongue about the me time. I can’t stand it.
I almost forgot: GE customer service is shit. They said that they would replace my fridge because my current model (broken and has been for four weeks) is no longer available. Now I’ve been getting the runaround since I’ve selected my replacement. How shocking.
GE, you may go fuck yourselves right in the ear.
I guess this is more of a sad than a rant…
Our hockey team signed a guy to a three-game tryout. The game in Knoxville Saturday night was his first game with us. He took a puck to the front of his jaw - split his jaw in half. Poor guy spend 6 hours in surgery Sunday.
I feel so bad for him. He’s far away from home and badly injured. He’s not even here in Columbus so the Booster Club can see that he has what he needs; he’s at UT Medical Center in Knoxville. The team trainer stayed in Knoxville with him so he’s not totally alone - I don’t even know how they’re going to get back here. Hopefully I’l get more information at the Coach’s Show tonight.
I just feel so bad for him!
Back when I was doing that sort of work, I would put my most polite voice on and repeat everything. I figured that if they were wasting my time, I could waste theirs. Yes, petty revenge, but you know…you have to take the small pleasures where you can.
Are you me? I make fun of my job in the workplace griping thread, but I really need to get out of this situation. Houses aren’t selling here, I’m sick of my hour long drive to get to work and my car is making funny noises again. Honestly, my only option at this point is to pack up my cats and move to Houston. I don’t think I’d be that good of a trophy wife.
I can so understand. I dont’ have kids or a husband, but I was looking forward to a month doing nothing but sitting on my butt with my foot propped up. Its been 6 days so far. There is dust landing on my ceiling fans and I can’t do anything about it. I’ve read the internets, I’ve watched DVD’s, I’ve read lots of books on my reader.
I so swear that I will never do anything that puts me in jail. Currently, I’m looking at my dusty floor and thinking about risking my recovery to sweep. Tony will be here in an hour to do chores for me and if he notices that I’ve dusted/swept/emptied the dish washer, he will yell at me.
I had to go back for more cortisone shots on a mole removal site - it’s scarring raised and red. Now I have a sore spot on my boobie and the surety that I will have a big, ugly scar there for the rest of my life. 
I just have to keep reminding myself what Mr. Horseshoe said when he first inspected the wound: “Well, it sure looks better than cancer.”
You have a very wise man. He sounds like a keeper.
Great. I make a big ol’ meatloaf and some Parmesan noodles, and 3 bites into dinner I’m throwing it up. I suspect either the noodles or the meat (obviously), though not both, but for safety’s sake I am going to be tossing both. Waste of my money. :mad:
Plus, in the process of ridding myself of whatever was wrong, I managed to break the toilet paper roll off the wall, and now there’s a big hole in the drywall.
A great end to the day that began with me backing up into a garage door that was SUPPOSED to be open. Bloody motor is misbehaving, and sometimes it only lifts about one panel up before stopping. And I was in a hurry so I didn’t look. GAH.
Move to Fort Worth, or the surrounding cities. We have paper here. In fact, we have a spare bedroom, and my husband would love to discuss bikes with you, and you and I can scour YouTube for kitten videos. And then we can gang up on my husband and tell him that we NEED to foster some kittens.
Dear Overlords of an online test scoring system:
After taking the certification tests online for this job, I was informed that I had passed. Then you email me and tell me I failed and must recertify. I did, and got the same message. I suppose now you’re going to tell me that I failed a second time.
Make up your minds.
When we moved into our house two years ago with our first garage ever, our garage door opener got wonky on us very soon after moving in - I guess this was a good thing, because it taught us to always keep an eye on the door and make sure it opens and closes properly.
I usually pay better attention, but I was thinking about work and fixing a mess instead of the door. My own fault, I know, but it’s still a bloody nuisance.
It’s scary how incomptent they are given that they judge other people’s competence. Those same fuckers asked us to work on Thanksgiving without offering any extra compensation. I hate this economy.
I’m itchy. You have no idea. It’s like having chicken pox and sunburn at the same time.
I’m 30 weeks pregnant and have been diagnosed with PUPP, which I guess means insane itchiness. The doc has prescribed Claritin, Benadryl and two different steriod creams. I’m still itchy and covered in hives from the neck down. What cures it? Having the baby. Great. 10ish more weeks of scratching until I bleed. ARGH!!!
Been there, done that, and boo! No fun. I found a little relief with colloidal oatmeal baths and lotions. (Aveeno and various other brands.) I also used very gentle cleansers, like baby soap, moisturized like mad, and every product I used was unscented. That seemed to help.
But the payoff was okay, so congratulations!