Heh. It was definitely the balls on her that got me; usually when people do something that dangerous, they at least have the decency to look sheepish. Ah, well.
The scene: an average corporate office. People are murmuring softly into their telephones; keyboards are clack-clacking away.
A casual observer would see purplehorseshoe ask her suitemates if either one would mind if she ate some tuna with her lunch. She has seen at least one of them eat tuna themselves, but purplehorseshoe is the courteous sort.
Having obtained permission from both suitemates, the casual observer would see purplehorseshoe reach over and pull a can of tuna out of her desk drawer. The casual observer would then watch as she walked towards the breakroom. Halfway there, she frowns. A thought has belatedly occurred to her. The casual observer would then see her go through each drawer and cupboard in the entire breakroom, including riffling through the cleaning supplies, in increasing desperation.
The casual observer would then watch as she returns to her desk, returns the can to the drawer, and, dejectedly, writes “Bring Can Opener” onto a Post-It note.
In completely unrelated news :rolleyes: the batch of eggs I hard-boiled last night came out a little bit overdone, so now the yolks are chalky instead of creamy.
I’m running low on protein options here, people.
- goes off to knaw on own arm for a while *
Not to mention the people in all the cars around her.
Peanut butter on crackers, hon. Even better, peanut butter on GRAHAM crackers. I thought that I wouldn’t like that, but it was what I got for a bedtime snack when I was in the hospital for MRSA, and it was amazingly tasty.
And why don’t you have a can opener on your pocketknife or keychain? Get one of those GI can openers. Get half a dozen. Scatter them around.
Agreed. Jim and I have decided that taking two parking spots is acceptable only at the very farthest spots from the door, and not even then if the parking lot is full. One night last week, we saw an asshole that had parked across two parking spots with his large half-ton in such a way that the car next to him would hit the back of his truck when they backed out. I would be sooooooo tempted to do just that - just ram the back of that asshole’s truck.
That’s exactly what I was thinking - I can drive as good as I possibly can, but there isn’t much I can do about all the incompetent drivers around me (except stay off my phone and stay alert so I can dodge out of their way).
Or individual serving size tuna cans that peel open.
You and me both, except for me it’s because Fetus has decided to become a vegetarian at random times. So, some days I can eat meat perfectly well, and other days I can’t even think about it too hard. Oh, and Fetus doesn’t like eggs, despite wanting them nonstop a month ago. I’m not even in the first trimester anymore, so now it can kick me when it’s displeased.
I’ve been eating a lot of peanut butter, hummus, and greek yogurt lately.
I can’t eat too much peanut butter (or, roasted peanuts) on an empty stomach. For some reason, Le Tummy does not get along with them when already rumbly. However, crisis averted: I have a package of instant black bean soup that is made of pure deliciousness, that I’ve been saving. Yum. Yo, dawg, quick shout-out to Tom Thumb’s store brand soups.
Also: both my pregnant grandboss and my on-the-hcg-diet suitemate :rolleyes: are gone for the afternoon, so you know what that means? I’m gonna pop some popcorn, bitches. In the microwave. I am living on the motherfucking edge this afternoon!
And, Lynn .. well, I used to always have a Swiss army knife in my purse, which did have a can opener. My ex-boyfriend got it for me. However, well … Mr. Horseshoe (who, ahem, “stole” me from said ex) now works at a place that sells, among other things, camping gear, and he got me a Leatherman micra. Which has awesome scissors, which is 99% of what I use a little purse multi-tool for anyway. But it apparently does not, I have learned, have a can opener.
Why I didn’t think to get the peel-top cans of tuna when I was standing in that aisle, I have no idea. I never claimed to be smart.
(Well, okay, yes I have. But not right at this moment.)
Aw, poop.
The bag of popcorn leaked a little grease right onto the thigh of my jeans.
Y’all can point and laugh at me now. 
Nothing like getting home after a long, hard week to find an official envelope with “Office of the Jury Commissioner” on the return address. I’m only 24 and have never gotten one of these before, but even I can figure out what a jury duty notice is without opening it.
The good news is, it looks like just a screening questionnaire as the first round and I think my student status will exempt me this time. I’m more pissed about the fact that I have to use my own stamp to send the damn thing back. It’s mandatory! It’s a government office! Why can’t they get postage paid? Maryland’s absentee ballots are also like this, with the added bonus that they are overweight. I guess they are broke.
Is your return address on the back of the envelope? If not, put it in the mail sans stamp and let the gov’t pay the postage on it themselves.
To the fucknuggets who introduced the three-pint “half gallon” of ice cream, the thirty-ounce “quart” of mayonnaise, and the twelve-ounce “pound” of bacon to the shelves of our nation’s supermarkets: Say hello to your newest fellow fucknugget, the inventor of the eight-pound “ten-pound sack” of potatoes. When I am acclaimed god-emperor of the universe, you will become quite well-acquainted with one another, while you rot together in the Oubliette of Remorse. And I DARE YOU to look bewildered and whine “What the fuck did WE do?” Each of you will have your crime tattooed on your forehead (with a razor blade); I will see to it that there is enough light to read by.
I am not some sort of King Canute of mathematics; I do not demand that the nature of numbers change to allow you to survive without increasing your prices when it is necessary. I DO demand that you not try to disguise the fact that you are doing so. QUIT FUCKING WITH THE STANDARD SIZES OF YOUR PACKAGING. If you have to raise your prices, raise your fucking prices like a grown-up. We can take it.
The ice cream guy is going to somehow get double punishment, because of the dual transgression of transitioning from 64 oz, through 56 oz, to 48 oz. That was just douchey.
I usually walk to work, it’s only about a mile and half of it is along a causeway, fresh breeze, seagulls, all that. Still, it’s even more fun with the latest podcasts playing, and my “commute” is the only reason I need an MP3 player. A couple of weeks ago, I bought a Sansa Clip+. It was pretty cheap, with ample battery life and decent memory.
Now, I’m a clumsy person. Everything I own will be dropped at some point. Apparently the Clip+ is not for me, then. I dropped the one I first got within days and broke it instantly. It was fine overall, but the ON/OFF button was stuck; so, as soon as the power saver kicked in, there was no way to get it back on again. I actually tore it up and shorted the contact with a screwdriver and that worked, but obviously that’s not a long-term solution.
Being satisfied with it overall, I simply discarded the defective unit and bought a new one. Fast forward to today, when I dropped that - and instantly broke the ON/OFF button again.
FUCK YOU, SANDISK.
I’m going to get a different player tomorrow.
Have you been shopping in the halloween candy aisle yet? Have you figured out which is cheaper, 12 candies for $3 or 15 for $3.25 or 20 for $4 or 26 for $5 or 32 for $5.50 or 41 for $6.02 or 46 for $7.85 or 55 for $10.03 or 63 for $11.15? You need a friggin’ spreadsheet to comparison shop.
ETA: These are not real prices, just examples for illustrative purposes.
I have a Micra too! I love it, and yes, I use the scissors the most. Clearly, your husband knows what a woman needs.
Going to the game last night, I had to go through a metal screening. Since I had to go through the entrance to the “Fair”. My friend had to dig through his wallet to find his “metal knees card”.
And people are supposed to want to take their kids to the overpriced carnival why?
No point. I don’t buy that stuff until November 1, anyway. 
My entire family bends over backwards to save my father’s ass. He has, for decades, neglected his wife and family. For the last several years he has actively destroyed his health and refuses to participate in any way towards taking care of himself or my mother in even the tiniest of ways. My mother has Alzheimers. Because he refuses to help, and actively makes things worse, his entire family has had to take up the slack for everything.
My oldest sister manages their finances, takes him to all his appointments, will find them someplace to live now that they can’t stay in the house, finds agencies to clean him and clean their house, spent months years ago to find him long term care insurance which he cancelled without telling her a year later (and now cannot get again, so he screwed us all). Next sister flies all the way home from a thousand miles away to help get things in line to move into a facility only to find his paperwork cannot be finalized because he doesnt’ have a valid ID (which he knew about but he’s pissed because he’s no longer allowed to drive so as a fuck you! left the DMV when they told him this without getting an ID instead.) Next sister takes mom to mass every Sunday because mom is no longer allowed to drive, and since he’s destroyed his ability to walk by laying in bed all day he can’t take her. I take her to all her doctor’s appointments, take her to get her hair done every Saturday, fill up all their pill boxes and make sure they have all their refillls. Dad refuses to take his medications most days, which inevitably makes him sick and he ends up in the ER. This last time he called the EMTs at 3:30 in the morning on a Thursday. His kids all have to jump to take care of him and my mother and it’s a hassle that could be avoided but he refuses to take his meds. My brother mows his lawn and shovels his snow (sounds minor but believe me it’s not). He has abdicated all his responsilbilities and doesn’t care how badly he has screwed himself, his wife, and his kids. He participates not at all and as a consequence all his kids go to a lot of effort to take care of him, his wife, his house, his finances, his dog, everything.
So, today I’m bringing mom home from the hairdresser and the grocery store (since she can no longer drive I now also take care of this task, too). The first thing out of my dad’s mouth when we walk in the door?
“Did you get me a sandwich?”
No, dad, it wasn’t on the list.
::Whines::
“Why do I always come last???”
:mad::mad::mad::mad:
Carol, there is nothing I can say about that but :eek:
My very minor first world rant. A work friend asked if I’d like to go eat with him after work. We did and then we had a couple of beers. (full meal and 3 beers consumed during 2 hours, no drunk driving or anything.) He took me back to the warehouse and I got my car and went home. My friend lives as far away from the warehouse as me but in the opposite direction.
When we got to our respective homes, we realized that my purse was in his car. Of course, he tried to call me, but my phone was in my purse on vibrate so when he didn’t get an answer, he thought I had gone to bed.
No, I was sitting at home, emailing him because I couldn’t borrow a phone and call him because I didn’t know his phone number which was stored on my cell. :smack:
He checked his email this morning and we met up for lunch but I wasn’t able to bid on that really cool sword cane I saw online until I got my purse back and now the auction is over.
Pity me!
Thanks, flatlined. :eek: is actually a very validating response for me. 
All I can say now, hours later, is “I know, right?”
:rolleyes:
You’d just cut yourself with it.
