Semi-boneless. WTF?
I was going to buy some New York Strip Steaks, on sale for $5.99 a pound.
Then I saw they were advertised as “semi-boneless”.
I thought it was binary. Meat with bones, meat without bones. Semi-boneless? Fuck you.
Two plumbers can’t figure out why my toilet is leaking (and the second one refused to believe it anyway)??? This is going to cost me $1200 to fix, isn’t it?
I’m sitting here literally applauding the most succinct mini-rants title yet.
I keep checking back to see if there’s a bad pun I missed (fiendishly hidden, I must say).
“Semi-boneless”…the butcher was in a hurry. Expect bone splinters.
Something keeps nipping the blossoms off of my zucchini plants. :mad: They’re leaving the cucumbers alone, but I was really looking forward to zucchini from my own yard.
Do you have household members who hate zucchini but like cucumbers? 
Why am I still in the office?
There’s nobody else here. They’ve all run off early for the long weekend.
Oh, yeah, it’s the 1st, so I have to run and re-run the month end numbers for people that won’t get around to looking at them until the 6th. Then they’ll look at them, misread the spreadsheet whose layout they specified, and complain that I did it wrong.
Waiting in a security line at the airport, the person in front of us had a service dog. Something in my subconscious was wary about the dog, and I told my kids to keep back. Wouldn’t you know, about a minute later, the dog turned around and snapped at my kids. Fortunately, they were a couple feet a way and its leash prevented it from making contact. It was entirely unprovoked; the kids were not moving nor making loud sounds (until after the attack; much wailing then).
No comment or apology from the handler.
We kept our luggage in front of us after that.
Line was split for different xrays, and we went a different way than the dog. I then observed it snap at another kid, not ours. No obvious provocation, although I was 20-some feet away, so can’t be sure. That boy was crying too, and acted as if the dog made contact.
WTF! I don’t know what was going on, but service dogs should never snap at a human.
We don’t really have any sort of standards for service dogs. There is no official licensing. I’ve seen “service dogs” pee inside, snap at people, run wildly at the end of a leash. You can buy a service dog vest online and suddenly you’e got a service dog.
Yeah, I know a woman with a fake service dog.
Seriously, she’s got a “license”… Photoshopped, but that doesn’t matter because she’ll wander into a store and announce loudly “Charles is a Service Dog and you can’t legally ask what form of service he provides or ask me to prove it!”
Luckily, everyone knows her (think “dotty old lady” and “the town from Doc Martin”). And makes a fuss over Charles… especially the shopkeepers if they have work to do, because she won’t leave until someone tells him how cute he is.
Oh, by the way, Charles is an elderly poodle… and rides in a baby stroller.
(My daughter was home visiting and texted me “I’m at Kopp’s Foods and you won’t believe this…” And I replied “A poodle named Charles in a stroller?” “HOW did you know?!?”)
Our local news had a “heart warming” story about a woman who has had to go through three service dogs as they get older and die. And why does she need a service dog? Because she has PTSD from being in the Navy. She never saw combat, never even went overseas, but she has PTSD because being in the Navy was too stressful for her. Poor dear. I think she had mental problems before she ever joined the Navy. I was in the Air Force and had my Drill Instructor yell at me in basic training. Do I qualify for a service dog now?
Thing is, while employees are restricted from asking about service dogs, I, as Jane Q public, am not. If I were in that airport queue, you better bet yer bippy words would have been said to the holder of the “service dog” leash. I called out some asshole on the bus once, who boarded with his husky mix “service dog”, and who proceeded to harshly “train” the dog to sit. He got off at the next stop.
There really needs to be some better ground-laying for definition of “service animal” and legal requirements put in place. I think people should have to produce documentation of proper training and good citizenship of their animal they put in the public way.
Oh yeah, and never mind the drug-seeking bitch who wasted two hours of our time at the ER with her poor “service” dog with nothing wrong with him besides having a crazy asshole for an owner, but she made sure to ask us FOUR times for Valium for him because fireworks are scary.
It’s actually the reverse – everyone here loves zucchini and can’t stand cucumbers (unless they’re in pickle form, which is the only reason I planted them).
Sort of. But all you get is an elderly poodle.
As do I, in fact.
(If you met my wife, you’d see why I have PTSD. And I’m sure we all remember the late Tony Scalia’s legal pronouncement: “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a poodle in a baby carriage”.)
And tonight the game that’s been going all week, begins in earnest. The game is: gunshots or fireworks? Ah, Chicago.
Looks like I won’t be getting surgery for my spinal stenosis until at least September. I need assurance from my cardiologist that I’ll survive the anesthetic, and the soonest I can see him is at the end of August. This makes the second summer that I need to be basically sedentary because of constant pain, without pain killers. I can drive, but can’t walk much. And then, when I finally have the surgery, there’ll be 6-8 weeks of recovery.
I tried Laser Spine Institute, but they’d do the surgery as an out-patient procedure. That’s crazy, for someone with my medical issues.
Damn you, HBO NOW, why, why, why won’t you let me watch the second episode of Game of Thrones? Why do you continue to show me the last 56 minutes of The Night Of instead? I can watch other episodes, but not The Kingsroad. I’ve rebooted my Roku, rebooted my modem, tried to watch on my laptop instead, but no…HBO ain’t gonna give up that particular episode for me tonight. What a weird problem.
Hmm, that depends, doesn’t it? If they don’t put you completely under, it’s probably safer for someone with your medical issues. If they use mostly locals and just give you an opiate to make you loopy, that’s probably the safest way to go. General anesthesia for someone with your medical issues is the most dangerous whether your cardiologist gives it a green light or not.
At any rate, waiting is the worst. Waiting in pain is worser than worst. Howcome no painkillers? Kidney stuff? It just seems like the most backwards when the health issue patient, who would benefit most from moving around more, is inhibited for even longer and the snowball effect gets even worse with health issues getting worse because they can’t move around!
Oh, I do wish everyone’s stenosis could have as good a result as mine. From four years of pain with surgeons telling me “Well, you might walk but you’ll certainly never run again…” to playing on a soccer team.
But I never know if it’d be dickish to parade my good fortune… hey, wait, I could spoiler it. So read this if your spine problems involve a cyst, or if you’re an NSS (normally spined person):
[SPOILER]So I had four years of excruciating sciatica. I could walk with a cane, but had to use stairs at work so I was reduced to using the handrail like a ski hill tow rope.
I was getting physical therapy, acupuncture and chiropractic, but my insurance refused to pay for an MRI, and X-Rays didn’t show anything wrong. Finally (45 months later!), my doc got me an MRI and there it was-- a cyst the size of a pingpong ball in my lumbar vertebrae. And it was compressing my spinal cord from pencil diameter to pencil lead. (we’re talking .05mm mechanical pencil lead…)
So I immediately met with these great spinal surgeons who said “First, we’ll open up your back and scrape off most of these two vertebrae here to get at the cyst…” Well, crap, I might need some bone down there, but I had to do it… Surgery was set for the next week.
I mentioned that to a surgeon friend who said “Nonono…[asia minor accent]…even if best surgeon which happens to be me opens up your back, is Pandora’s box, you are not knowing what gets in. I set up appointment with Prabeesh, you see him tomorrow.”
Well, long story short, Prabeesh shoved a syringe in my back (the same gauge that hippos shoot up with), pumped a gallon of saline and cortisone into that cyst and ‘exploded’ it!
He was asking if he’d aimed right, so I was supplying color commentary: “Yep, you got it, and… it’s the size of a golf ball, racquetball…tennis ball, and, whoa, it just popped!”
As soon as the needle was winched out, I hopped off the table and danced a jig.
And was out playing soccer two days later. Slowly, but happily.
–
Sorry if this might be insensitive to current Spinal Pain Sufferers…
But, hey, I paid my dues (four years of agony), and I will never take walking across a room without whimpering for granted.
[/SPOILER]