Maybe you had to be there, but the idea of a drunk guy yelling to hear Freebird at an orchestral concert is making me chortle over here.
My rant du jour - I reluctantly sent my resume to an acquaintance who is also looking for work (his idea - networking, don’tcha know). Now he is sending me multiple links to inappropriate jobs every day, from the same sites that I visit (and reject those same jobs on) every day. YOU’RE NOT HELPING! YOU’RE WASTING MY TIME! I don’t know if there’s a polite way to tell someone like that to quit wasting their time trying to help.
The first time we laughed. The second was more of an uncomfortable giggle. The third? Nothing. The Freebird requests were between his WHOO HOO!!!ing and "DAMN GOOD!"s.
When you ask me for suggestions of what I’d like for Christmas, yet will not reciprocate because “giving lists to people to buy for me makes me feel like they don’t even care enough to know what I like” – did you even think before you said that to me?
Of course not.
Yet, when I still give you suggestions – because I know it is the least painful choice – it would be nice if you actually READ THE SUGGESTIONS.
For example: When I say, “I do not need pants, nor shirts that come in any size more specific than Large. They never fit, and I hate having to take them back. I prefer to buy that on my own, anyway.”
This means: DON’T buy me that crap.
It also means: DON’T think you’re sly by slipping an “Oh, by the way, what size pants do you wear?” into a conversation that has absolutely nothing to do with pants. Such as, why my nephew likes Thomas the Tank Engine. Because you thinking I’ll be “fooled” by that – insulting.
And as you know from 40+ years of the SAME DAMN ROUTINE, it is goddamn sure to make me blow a gasket. And when you then try to turn it around on me for being so “insensitive”, blow another gasket.
You know what I’d really like for Christmas, dear relatives? Buy your own damn presents! Cripes, we’re all middle-class – the only ones who actually need anything are the nephews/grandkids. You’re just trolling for validation.
This morning I had a final for my 1030 class - at 0830.
On Wednesday I have another final, for my 0930 class - at 0830.
I understand why they do this - it’s a huge university, two hour final periods, and they have to make sure that another class isn’t trying to come in at that time (finals are two hours, whereas morning classes are one to 1.5). I also understand that for the majority of people who go to school and work, conflicts are going to happen if the class lasts later than the original time.
I work swing, but I’m lucky that I a) work part time; and b) at the end of the week.
But damn, it annoys me that I have to show up for a final 1-2 hours before either of my morning classes. Afternoon classes seem to have finals at their start time.
You know what drives me crazy. People misusing the term “literally”. I hear it more and more and it’s seems like it’s becoming generally accepted. People will say something like “I was literally losing my mind.” I just want to say “oh! do remember where you last saw it?” That’s figurative dammit! That’s the polar opposite of literall! Stop diluting the language!
But I usually say nothing and grind my teeth.
I understand your frustration. My memory is not that great anymore, and that includes remembering recent and old information. I used to be a terrific speller, but find myself using the dictionary every day. I forget things I have done and places I have gone. When my husband says “Remember when we ate at that cute little restaurant when we were in California”, all I can say is “Um, no. What did I eat and did I like it?” He will then go on to tell me all about it and sometimes it still does not joggle my memory.
Kinda reminds me of the movie “The Notebook”, based on a book written by Nicholas Sparks.
Currently I am struggling to remember my new postal code and my new home phone number. For some reason, it is just not sticking.
Haha! This is why I now buy DVD’s I have had several concussions, so even if I have seen a movie, in 6 months I can re-watch it, and enjoy it all over again!
I hear ya! I have some magazines that are in my house, apparently because I bought them. But, when I re-read them, it is like they are new. This is especially true for my gardening and general topic magazines. I do this with DVDs too, just like you.
We recently moved and while packing up my stuff, I was amazed to discover what I own. For some things, I could not remember where they came from. I also found multiples of things as I had bought new items without remembering that I already had one (of whatever it was).
Maybe I will join Featherlou’s uncle and just start makin’ stuff up.
To the fucker who decided to steal both my green bin and my A/C cover at some point over the last couple of days:
Thank you so very much, asshole. It’s going to cost me $40 to replace the shit you stole on what I assume is either a very un-neighbourly gesture or a random drunken lark, because I can’t possibly fathom what anyone could possibly want with something so mundane.
PS - My house number is written all over my bin. Hope you’re not a neighbour, because garbage day is tomorrow and I plan on checking all the bins in the immediate area on my way to work. And if I happen to spot mine sitting in your driveway, not only am I dumping everything in it on your lawn and then taking my property home… but I’ll probably come back and egg the crap out of your house while I’m at it.
Well, that was a little annoying. I was trying to go to the AAA site in the US, and kept getting re-directed to the AMA (Alberta Motor Association), because the internet knows better than I do what I’m looking for. Actually, you stupid bunch of electrons, I was trying to look at the AAA site. Jerks.
It has gotten nearly impossible to find a toothbrush with firm bristles.
Soft, yeah there’re plenty of sooffft toothbrushes for all the wimps out there. There are even some medium ones.
But no firm-bristled toothbrushes. To all the candy-asses who’ve ruined the market for us stalwart firm brush-devotees - enjoy your delicate, soft, limp, cushy little lives and your squishy bristles that splay out sideways after a few weeks of use.
Meantimes all us tough, independent sorts will have to make do with medium bristles.
Curses.
Fuck you, plastic window insulation. I waited until a warm day to put you up. Your tape is not sticky. When I stick your sticky side to the windowsill, and run my finger over the side that still has the paper backing on it, and the static electricity/finger oils makes the whole shebang come off and stick to my finger instead of the windowsill YOUR TAPE IS NOT FUCKING STICKY!!
It took me almost 45 minutes to cover one damn window. I’m fairly certain it was actually colder in my bedroom after I put you up. Yet every year you call to me from the store shelf - promising to make my old-ass house toasty warm and energy efficient. I can’t wait to set you on fire come springtime.
“House” is moving to Monday night? Well, hell, why not? Let’s put every single show on television on on Monday nights. I’ll have fifiteen VCRs set up throughout the house to record the shows we watch. No problem. We’ll just watch the taped stuff on other nights when there is nothing on tv but reality crap that costs nothing to produce and Jay Leno. VCRs are cheap now, so this oughta work out well. I think I’m going to need some cable splitters, though.
Ah, fuck. Nothing like a flat tire to get you in the Christmas spirit!
I was heading out to go visit some friends when the fact that my car was driving like a drunken monkey clued me in that there might be something wrong. I pull over into a nearby parking lot, and sure enough, the thing is entirely flat. Nothing more fun than changing a flat tire in a snowy, icy, not entirely well lit parking lot! A friend of mine came over to help me, we put the lil bitty baby tire on, and off I went.
I took it into the shop today to see if the tire could get fixed, and found out that the inside of the tire had been chewed up (not entirely surprised, as it was completely flat and I did drive on it, even if it was for about three minutes total). To top it all off, this is occuring the night before and day of my last and hardest final exam. While I can take the bus downtown to my exam, I’d like to have my car back before that so I can be sure I get there on time, etc.
Also, my driver’s side door lock has decided that it hates me, and currently will not work, thus I have to climb over the passenger seat with my snowy, icky shoes on and get dirty snow all over the seat and console.
My mini-rant is that every time I see this thread title, I wonder why someone is bemoaning the lack of mini-vans on the first page and then I get all confused for half a second. :smack:
