Agreed.
Especially since I don’t find DT annoying.
Agreed.
Especially since I don’t find DT annoying.
7th graders:
Please stop messing up my name. I know it looks slightly unusual, but it is pronounced exactly like it looks. Do not call me Teacher, Mrs. Sub, Miss E, Ma’am (WTF? Who says Ma’am in California? Do I look 50?!), or any variant thereof. My name is written in huge letters on the board, and on my nametag.
Also, stop being pains in the ass, and STAY IN YOUR GODDAMN SEATS AND SHUT UP! For like, 5 minutes at least? Honestly, I don’t know why your parents haven’t left you on the side of the road in the country yet.
Oddly enough, high schoolers have far fewer problems with my name, and know enough to shut it before I send them to the AP, because I won’t put up with their shit.
I don’t know if I’ve posted this already. I am sure nobody minds if I have.
I don’t often get so annoyed that I want to act. I usually just sigh and move on to the next bit of miserable existence. But today I almost went and found a person to complain to, until it dawned on me that this person has exactly zero fault or ability to do anything about the thing that got me annoyed in the first place. I almost, meaning I thought about it. I didn’t do it.
The thing that annoyed me was this: Marks and Spencer (UK retailer, known for higher than usual quality in its products) has a range of sandwiches. What they do is come up with an utterly brilliant idea for a sandwich… And then ADD ONE SINGLE FUCKING STUPID INGREDIENT TO COMPLETELY RUIN THE WHOLE SANDWICH! Today I see on sale a sandwich, it has chicken, (good) bacon (getting better) stuffing (this is becoming an awesome sandwich) mayonnaise (drool) red stuff, wait. What’s that red stuff? [Reads label carefully] cranberry sauce.
In many people’s book this may be a plus. But in my book it’s typed in bold, underlined, and if the printers can do it the type is red - WHY?
I wanted a savoury protein-rich mouth watering joyful sandwich and you had to go and put some weird unpleasant sweet fruit sauce in there. My palate is not compatible with sweet + savoury. I do not like nor understand the idea of duck and orange, pizza with marshmallow, you name it - if it is a sweet + savoury combo, I do not understand it.
Dear Beaverton Foods Inc,
How the fuck can you call your mustard “hot” when the only ingredient that could possibly be considered in any way hot is paprika, and that’s near the bottom?
Are you in the USA? I hear that US Mustard is very mild compared to the UK.
The people who work at the Deli in my nearest supermarket don’t seem to understand just how strong Coleman’s (British) Mustard is. When I ask them to put [and I try to put emphasis in my voice in this situation] “A tiny bit of mustard please” they will invariably coat the bread with mustard as if it were mayonnaise.
edit: A bit of simple googling later: ‘Vienna’ threw me, but VA is Virginia which I am pretty sure is a US state.
Dear “scholar athletes” in my intro class.
If five of you are going to turn in the same extra credit paper with only slight changes, disregarding the fact for a moment that I’m not a complete moron, please use hard copies rather than e-mailing me .docs: it’s too amusing when I type in “jaime” into the search box to make sure that yes, Oscar’s paper looked very much like it, and discovering that Jaime’s name also shows up in the meta-info author field for Jim, Dylan, and Jeff’s until-now unread papers as well.
I also hate that you now leave me with this ethical dilemma of what to do about this piddling cheating on an insignificant one-page extra credit assignment–whether to chuckle about boys being boys and just giving you zeroes, or mention it to your coach who is supposed to act like he cares, or actually report it in the official channels.
And it wasn’t a bad paper. Jaime, you’re a fucking moron for keeping such stupid friends around.
Another stupid student rant:
THE LIBRARY IS CLOSING IN THIRTY MINUTES. I DON’T GIVE A GOOD GODDAMN IF YOU WANT TO STAY HERE ALL NIGHT!
Seriously. You people want to study all night Saturday for an exam you have Monday? Shouldn’t you have done this little thing called “planning”? Can’t you study tomorrow? Didn’t we already have this discussion about lack of planning on your part and emergencies on my part?
I swear to God and Sonny Jesus, the next person who comes up to me to bitch about the library closing at 7 tonight is going to get a choice of a quarter with instructions to call someone who cares or me laughing at them because I don’t have exams, I just have to finish one chapter on my thesis and revise it.
In short, the grad student doesn’t care, go cry to your mama.
I’d report it to the coach, but that’s because I have zero patience left for slackass students.
I’d had a shitty week, and was looking forward yesterday to coming home and starting the weekend. I had activities and events lined up all weekend long and was planning on enjoying myself.
But no… at 6:30, I got to my place, and noticed an orange traffic cone in the hall outside of my condo - by a big wet area. I went inside, and saw the dirty footprints, and felt the squish of water in my carpet. the living and dining room floors were wet, the kitchen had standing water. Obviously, it had come from my sink drain and kept going and going and going.
But then, manager, when you claim it was because of the dishwasher running - well, not so fast. I live alone. I don’t eat breakfast, I work away from home during the day, and I often eat a bag of doritos and call it “dinner.” My dishwasher doesn’t run very often. Maybe twice a week (it’s just not going to get full to run it more than that.) Last time I turned that thing on was, well, I’m not sure. But I can see the Wednesday and Thursday dishes in the sink and I ate out on Tuesday, so I’m guessing Monday night? Tuesday morning? I don’t doubt that the dishwasher might have caused a problem like this - but the distance in time between the dishwasher being used and the flood is long enough that it makes that a deeply questionable hypothesis.
And now, because insurance won’t make a move until Monday morning, even with the damage control, my flooring (both the carpet and the hardwood underneath) is in serious danger.
Oh, and I’m missing a number of activities, because I have no access to the electronic equipment on which the details are stored. I know, I shouldn’t use the computer as an extension of my memory. But I did. And now I’m screwed. (At least it didn’t get water damage - and will be recoverable, some day. But I’m without it for the time being.)
I’d report it everywhere I could be expected to report it, because you’re never too young to learn about consequences. The younger the better, in fact.
What the hell, Hanes? I just bought a package of socks and there are supposed to be 6 pair, but I somehow ended up with 5.5 pair. And something tells me that trying to wheedle one more sock out of Hanes or taking the whole lot back to Target is just not an efficient use of my time and gas, so I’m just going to bitch about it here.
I guess I can use the one sock as a duster, or something.
Your dogs are your responsibility neighbors!! Get a fucking bark collar, get rid of the dogs, or I will tear their fucking vocal chords out my self. I did not sign up to live in a kennel! Five dogs in one apartment is too many! Also, buy a fucking leash, or five!!!
Do you have a cat? Put some catnip in the toe of the sock, tie a knot in it and you have instant cat toy!
Give it to your Significant Other and he can dress up like a Red Hot Chili Pepper next Halloween!
I wish to pit my memory; I’m going on another job interview tomorrow, and after working for 24 years, it’s all starting to blend together. They ask questions like, “Have you ever had a conflict at work?”, and my first response is, “Yeah, I sure have. Now, if I could just remember when…” I had to take one of the computer programs I’ve worked on off my resume, because I couldn’t remember what job I’d used it at. I don’t think it affects my work much, because I make notes for everything, but calling stuff up instantly, that just isn’t as sharp as it used to be. Silly brain.
Hooray, gastroenteritis!
Ugh - you have my sympathies. I ate Korean barbecue from the mall for dinner yesterday, and spent the evening holding my stomach. No expulsions, but the discomfort was no fun.
I’m the other way, I think. Cramping is fairly mild and I feel relatively okay (bit run down, but not excessively so), but it’s like a frickin’… Ugh. I can’t even think up a metaphor. It’s just terrible, the stuff that’s coming out. Since Saturday night, so I’m hoping it’ll pass soon.
Put it aside for when the dryer monster eats the .5 sock.
Various comments to the idiots surrounding us at the Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert last night:
Parking ramp guy? You can quit flailing your arms, yelling at me to move forward. THERE WASN’T ANYPLACE TO MOVE FORWARD. Maybe yell at the car in front of me who decided it was okay to pretty much park in the entrance.
Lady behind me? Why the FUCK did you bring a newborn? Seriously. I understand the tickets were kind of pricey, but didja think of maybe hiring a babysitter or foregoing the concert in deference to the babys’ hearing? TSO is LOUD, idiot.
Couple next to me? I get that your tickets were a free thing from work, dude. It was obviously clear that you were not impressed, and neither was your date (who kept elbowing and kicking me, but that’s besdies the point). That does NOT give you reason to yammer through the entire fucking show. If you don’t like it, LEAVE. And to the girlfriend? Screaming how you’re now blind when the pyrotechnics started was a bit too OTT.
Person in the middle of our row - please wear Depends next time, mkay? Letting your fat ass through every 10 minutes was really fucking annoying.
Guess what drunk guy a few sections over? TSO doesn’t play Freebird. Quit yelling.
Otherwise it was a fantastic show.
The world’s most disgusting lawn sprinkler?