Man, this made me laugh! My old man used to throw me a beating for leaving my lights on. To this day when I leave a room sometimes I still turn the lights off. Even with people in it.
I don’t like people who curse at their kids. Like get your ass over here you little shit. Don’t transfer your hateful bullshit on to a clean slate dick stain. I am not a violent person but sometimes maybe a little smack in the mouth might do the trick.
I pit Vonage.
We’ve been without a home phone for nearly two weeks now. We’d lost internet too, but working with our ISP showed if we hooked up the internet directly to the modem and didn’t hook it through the Vonage router we’d have internet. So, I think the router has gone kaflooey.
We spent 30 min via cell phone last Saturday with Vonage tech support, trying this and that and the other and having to ask “Glen” to repeat himself numerous times because he had such a thick Indian accent. I think he gave up, because he said, “Let me try something and I’ll call you back.” He never did.
We called back, complained to a supervisor, who said there’s no record of our earlier call with “Glen”, and arranged for a Real Live Person to come out on Friday.
Next step, cancellation. :mad:
I am a 25 year old male librarian. This should not be cute, funny, insulting or shocking to your average person. So if I hear any of the following comments after I assure you, yes I am in charge, I will kill you.
Me: I’m the librarian in charge…
Idiot: No you’re not/You can’t be.
Idiot: I want to talk to the older person/the woman that was hear before/someone that’s not you.
Idiot: You’re just a child/I want to talk to someone who knows what they’re doing.
Idiot: What happened to that nice woman I was just talking to/Surely that woman who was here before is in charge?
Also, do not sigh, roll your eyes or ask the female clerk the same question after I tell you no.
And…
Me: [sitting at the “Reference Desk”]
Idiot: Are you the Reference Librarian?
Me: Yes
Idiot: Really? But you’re a man.
All of you can just fuck off.
I went to the dentist today for the first time in 8 years. The good news is, since I have been so conscientious in taking care of my teeth in the past years of no insurance and no money, the damage wasn’t at all that bad. The bad news is, I still need $400 in fillings and two wisdom teeth removed (for who knows how much).
They offered to take the top ones out when I had the bottoms out 10 years ago, but my cheapskate sperm donor wasn’t having that. The money-grubbing dick rash still claimed me on his income tax but steadfastly refused to keep my insurance up after I turned 18 and had my own place. Fuckin’ cheap asshole, my teeth would be *perfect *if you weren’t such a cockmongling douchebag.
That asshole two nights ago who asked me if I knew how to make a Tanqueray and tonic?
What the fuck was his problem?
What kind of guy walks into a bar, summons the bartender over, and snaps, “Do you know how to make a Tanqueray and tonic?” When I blinked and said, “Are you serious?” he said it again, even more angrily.
Why did I even make him the damn thing? Is it because I just started at a new bar? Should I pit myself for making it, or him for being such a dickwad?
And why, considering all the years of insults/jerks/assholes/perverts that I’ve dealt with, is that guy still sticking out in my head?
Fuck you, Mr. Tanqueray and Tonic. I know you wanted another one and I’m happy I ignored you. Yeah, I saw you staring at me, trying to give me some sort of gin-related voodoo. Fuck off.
I don’t care how cheap and convenient it may be for you, if you use one of those cell phones that works like a walkie-talkie - you know, with the sqwuak between speakers and the volume is up so loud that you don’t even need to hold it up to your ear, so everyone else within hearing distance can hear both sides of the conversation - and you use it anywhere other than while isolated in a cave or underground bunker, you should die sooner rather than later.
Same thing for officemates who check their voicemail on speakerphone, and whop whistle aimlessly.
We’ll clear this place out in no time!
We have Vonage back. It was a bad cable…something that could not have been fixed over the phone, especially not from India.
You shoulda bruised the bastard’s gin. 
It is time for your son to get a vacation from the privilege of having a TV in his room.
Will you stop asking me if I need help carrying my one bag of bread and eggs to the car!
I’ve been in Blythe, CA for the last few days…we have a job out here, so I brought out a compressor for the jackhammers and my Jeep while we have a split crew for two different jobs. Now this is an interesting and weird little place. I like weird little places, it’s what I live for. But I would enjoy this weird little place without the semi-invisible, stealth, battle trained mosquitos that are obviously armed with fucking EBOLA. You would not believe the welts I’ve obtained from these little fuckers. I cannot go outside of the hotel room near or after dark because they’re out on manouevers, and they’re starving. For me.
I hate being itchy!!!
Also, I’m tired of being broke and worrying. It’s part of being a new business owner, but damn if I’d like a break to relax a bit. It’s making me nuts, and the crazy pills aren’t doing their job.
Feh.
Please, be on time.
We wait for you EVERY SINGLE DAY and you have yet to apologize. This is a van pool, not a special service for you and we’ve been polite so far but I’m about to explode. We agreed on a time and place to meet. The other 8 of us can do it regularly - why can’t you? Shit.
Hey, friend! I’m glad you’re coming for dinner tonight with your new boyfriend. It seems I will never get to see you unless I also see the boyfriend, so I’m cool with that.
What, you’ve invited another friend, a mutual friend of ours that I don’t really like spending time with? I am not as excited to see him, but whatever. The more the merrier. All I need to do is confirm that all three of you are coming and eating dinner, seeing as you’ve moved your time of arrival back an hour, to 7:30, which isn’t as clearly a dinner hour any more, and in spite of my repeated requests you have not confirmed who is coming or eating.
Other friend: don’t respond to my offer of dinner by asking me if you SHOULD eat dinner. I don’t give a toss whether you do or not. All I want is for you to eat it if I cook it. So all you need to do is tell me whether you’re planning on eating it or not, so I know whether to make it for you or not. Why is that so hard?
First friend: So your new boyfriend isn’t coming after all. I still don’t know why you invited other friend to my house, or why you didn’t tell me that your boyfriend wasn’t coming until the third time I asked you to confirm that there would be three for dinner. Isn’t this my house? Why are you arranging my dinner party for me? Why can’t you provide me with all relevant information when I ask for it?
So my dinner with my good friend and her boyfriend at 6:30 morphed into a meeting with unconfirmed meals for my good friend and her boyfriend and our crasher at 7:30; at this point it is good friend and crasher for dinner, but but who knows when?
I am trying to overcome my control freak tendencies. But this kind of shit annoys me. I only wanted to have dinner with my one good friend in the first place.
This sounds like a golden opportunity to pull at the waistband of your pants, say, “Oh my god! You’re right! I wonder why they didn’t notice that when I went to library school? … May I help you find something?”
Why do you wait? If you were riding on a bus and you were late for the bus, then you would have to walk to work.
If you’re supposed to be there at 7:30a, then you drive off at 7:31.
I just got my twice-annual sinus infection the day before yesterday. I’m picking up antibiotics in about an hour.
And I’m taking a pre-dawn cross-country flight tomorrow.
Pity me. And damn my sinuses.
Same question as above. Why is it so hard for some people to assert themselves when they’re being treated rudely? If this were me, after a half dozen mornings in a row, I’d say, “Is this going to be a habit with you?” And if it happened again, I’d say, “From this point forward, any morning you’re not here at the appointed time, we’re not waiting. Clear?”
Nothing to add except that the title of this thread should be the motto of the SDMB. Forget the whole “Fighting Ignorance Since 1973” sham.
My child, and my wife.
I love them both. They are my sun, my moon, my stars. I love them more than the air I breathe.
But when my little offspring REFUSES to take a nap for me, when I’ve tried to do things the EXACT SAME WAY mom and Gramma do, and he still wants to bounce up and play, it is frustrating.
When I try to explain this frustration to you, my darling spouse, and you say “Well, I guess you’re just not doing it right”, I want to hold you, kiss you, and cave in your skull with a frying pan.*
Gah.
*not really. violence is bad, mkay?