Do you mean “scrotum-sucking” as in “it is all sucked in and wrinkled because of the cold”?
They do the same thing in Canada about people from the Prairies, if it makes you feel any better, Kyla. All anyone knows about Sask. is what they see from the #1 Highway running through the wheatfields, and they feel qualified to comment on what life in Sask. must be like. Here’s a little clue for the clueless - people from Sask. LIKE wide-open, flat places. And a well-kept secret - Northern Saskatchewan is nothing but trees and lakes. But Saskatchewanians are mostly too polite to tell hee-hawers to take their “dog running away for three days” jokes and stick 'em.
People who block intersections. Every freaking day I have to wait an extra 10-15mins in traffic because a few dumbasses insist on pulling into the intersection when they freaking KNOW they wont get thru it!!!
And dont give me that straight ahead look, like you dont see me!! The very least you could do is look sheepish and maybe give me a wave. But ohhhhhhhhh no. You sit there staring straight ahead like you have no clue your holding up everyone trying to turn left!! By God I should be able to smite you!
Aaah, yes. Thank you. This will be a nice little pressure release. Many of my rants lately are train related, so I’ll get all the ones I can think of right now out of the way.
First, you fucking assholes that get on the train at 6:30 in the morning stinking like Beelzebub’s butthole with too much perfume: I fucking HATE you. I am not allergic to perfume, nor did I think I was THAT sensitive to it, but you bitches marinate in the shit so that I can smell you ON THE OTHER END OF THE CAR. It gives me a headache. I can’t get away from it, and I find myself wishing you into the cornfield as a substitute for wishing much, much more horrible things to be visited upon your eternal soul.
Second, I use my laptop to watch a movie to pass the time when I’m not working because I’m a little claustrophobic and restless, and I need to do something to distract me. The courteous thing to do would be to let the people who need to sit at the tables for a place to set their things that require a flat surface sit there, and if you don’t need one for anything but to sit your fucking travel bag on, go to a seat with no table. Do NOT take up the whole table when using it by leaning over it with both arms as if you live in the wild and the table is your dinner. Especially the bitch who I watched push the guy across from me’s laptop off into his lap so that her purse AND her arm could take up the table. As a sub category to this, you bastards that set your crap on the seat next to you in order to stop someone from sitting in that seat on a crowded train need at least a stern talking to about the courtesty of making room for everyone. This part of the rant is directed particularly to any of you on the 5:00 pm out of L.A. who might be doing this heinous thing. I loathe you.
The third part is minor. It’s been chilly in the mornings, and please, please, Mr. Conductor, remember to shut off the full blast air conditioning. Once the train starts to fill up, it’s good for circulation, but it’s really uncomfortable first thing in the morning on an empty train. I’ve asked politely, and will continue to do so because I think you’re naturally warm blooded and don’t notice, but I’m tired of shivering.
sigh That is all for now. I feel partially unburdended. Thank you.
I was left out of the loop when it came to finding housing for next year. If you want an apartment, you have to start searching early–end of September for the next school year. My friends (both groups of them) went and signed leases without asking me if I wanted to live with them, hell, without even telling me they were thinking of searching for apartments. So I got left by myself.
Whatever. I’m over that now.
As it turns out, I know this girl whose plans for next year fell through, and she needed a place to stay. I offered to let her have the other room in my apartment (I signed a lease on a 2BR because the 1BRs on campus are either far away, shitholes, or all of the above). So she thought about it for a while and decided it would be a good idea.
Now comes the actual part I’m pissed about.
So she asks me a bunch of questions to see if we’d be good roommates or not. Her very first question is “How do you feel about cats?” And she tacks on one of those stupid faces to let me know she’s extra-excited about cats. Whatever, some people are. I tell her that I am very, very allergic to cats, and there is no way I could ever live with one. She then gets very disappointed. Like, at first I think she’s exaggerating how upset she is for laughs. But the punchline never comes. She’s really upset that she can’t have a cat next year, and it’s making her reconsider living with me.
A few points:
She lives in a dorm now. She is not allowed to have a cat here, so it’s not like I’d be throwing her precious kitty on the streets.
She had been planning on being an RA next year, which means living in a dorm. No cats. This wasn’t something that she had been planning for next year.
We’re going to be rooming together for one year. One year. It’s not like we’re going to get married or anything. Sheesh.
I’m willing to be lenient on some things, since I can have my own bedroom and we won’t constantly be in each other’s hair. But a cat is something I can absolutely not deal with. I am incredibly allergic, and I haven’t found anything yet that will let me tolerate cats.
Now, for the most part I like this girl and I want to live with her. Also, it’s come down to the fact that if I don’t room with her, I’m going to have to put out flyers and room with a stranger, which I’d rather not do. She said she’d get back to me, but she hasn’t yet. I’ve given this girl two weeks to think about it. I finally left her a message asking if she still wants to live with me, although she hasn’t gotten back yet. ARG.
You weren’t tripping, but Vincint Vega was (or, more precisely, he was having an opiate-induced hallucination.) and while you’re in Jackrabbit Slim’s you’re seeing things from his point of view.
Oh yeah, my stomach hurts, I’ve got the runs, and I hate my job.
Whoops, sorry. Me, in the OP: “You? Not clever.” I don’t do it all the time, though, and rarely when I’m actually speaking.
"I didn’t read the thread, but… " and on and on, repeating points that have already been made. READ THE THREAD, BITCHES.
More than anything, I hate that I know there are a billion things I could (and probably should) be bitching about right now, but I can’t remember a single one of them. Umm, my son is sick. That kinda sucks… :thinks:
Maggie, if you don’t stop playing “food hockey” with your sister’s food, I’m going to hang you by your tail. You refusing to eat dry cat food is one thing. Using it as a toy is another.
(Damned cat had kibble all over the kitchen table and all over the floor!)
Whatever happened to denying everything to the bitter end? “Ok. Ok. You got me. Here’s how I murdered him and why.”
Wal-mart
Rollback Price: X-Box was 179.99, now 149.99. Bullshit you shysters. That was a manufacturer and developer mandated price drop to stimulate sales. So don’t label it a “rollback” deal and pretend you are giving me a great deal.
And what’s with the “Why buy plasma” headline slogan? Are you trying to talk me out of buying plasma? Why buy plasma? Exactly! I guess Wal-Mart’s advertising machine has become so self-sustaining that they can use slogans like “Buy Our Shit” and still sell wares.
The Breakfast Club
HTF* are you going to show on cable tonight when you know I have a test tomorrow? “Grade keeps falling, grade keeps falling, down, down, down, down.”
the fucker parking attendant who charged me for half an hour of parking when all I did was tool around the goddmaned ramp looking for a spot and not seeing one.
Yeah. Busted. I thought I’d add a little bit of cleverness. Believe me; I find no joy in those techniques either. But I just had to (attempt to) be funny. I did read the OP, by the way. Notice I spelled out ‘by the way.’
So one of my very favorite friends online (me male, she female) was telling me she’s looking into the study abroad program at the little college she’s going to. She’s a nice gal, she has family problems, and she’s definitely financially strapped. So what do I tell her? You can’t do a study abroad program because you aren’t rich, only rich people can do go.
:: holding my collar with my left hand, slapping the piss out of myself with the right ::
Oops. Don’t think that I was targeting you with that, as it was never my intention. But some other site I read has long (and interesting) passages full of that, and it’s like a small poke in the forehead with a toothpick every time. And I did read the thread, I just forgot about the OP by the time I replied.
Oh Christ, no kidding. I ranted about this in January. Granted, I live in Southern California, but January is still a little too early for a big bathing suit display. And I was equally peeved because I was on my way to Chicago (where it was snowing) and went to Target to buy a SCARF. I knew when I saw the suits I was screwed.
