I would be very happy if I never saw the following phrases on the SDMB ever again:
Monday Morning Post
Recreational Outrage
Meme
I am getting so sick of this kind of trendy bullshit appearing out of nowhere, lingering for months, then vanishing again like they never existed, time and time again, but those ones are the worst I’ve seen in a long time.
Comforters don’t comfort. These goose-down filled atrocities my wife insists on keeping on every bed in the house during both summer and winter fill me with light and fluffy rage. “It’s like sleeping in a cloud,” she claims. Ever actually try sleeping in a fog bank? Slightly off-the-mark comparison, but heading in the right direction, say I.
Give my Michigan-raised bones the pleasure of a nice heavy quilt on cold nights. I want that tactile feedback, the weight of the blanket telling me that the cold bits will soon be warm, or that the too-warm bits are indeed too-warm because of insulation that can be easily removed by shifting the appropriate bits until the weight goes missing. Wake up sweating under a comforter, missing that input, and you get to spend a few minutes worrying that you’ve come down with a fever.
My quilts are comforting. Hand sewn by generations of women in my family, many made from worn coats and clothes, each one was lovingly crafted with a family member in mind. Snuggling up under one is like re-establishing a link to my past. Those damn comforters? They’re a link to J.C. Penney.
Comforters don’t comfort!
Perhaps you shouldn’t saunter by them in your top hat, tails, and duck’s head cane, lingering momentarily to polish your monocle with a silk handkerchief embroidered with a gold dollar sign, toss it over your shoulder, elicit a Cohiba from your diamond-inlaid cigar caddy, and light it with a wad of hundred dollar bills. They hate that.
Why the fuck is it so fucking hard to cancel my internet service?
last year I got so exasperated with the so-called “customer service” offered by my phone company that I had my service disconnected. I couldn’t give up the internet, tho, up until last week, when my home computer busted, and after long consideration I decided not to replace it.
So I called up the hated phone company to cancel and was immediately reminded of why I hated it in the first place: the godforsaken voice activated bitch who answers the phone. I did my best to zero out and eventually found an actual person, probably in Delhi, to whom I managed to communicate (over the crackly connection) my account number (which for some reason contains letters, so we had to do the F-for-Frank, N-for-Nancy thing), and said “please cancel my account,” at which point I was put on hold, from which I was never to return.
This was repeated again, and then again, at which point the guy said “oh, it’s been cancelled already. Can I ask why you want to cancel?”
“Your customer service is appalling,” I said. “Entirely without virtue. In fact it has taken me half an hour and endless frustration just to CANCEL the service today.” He apologized, I graciously declined to accept it because I know it isn’t his fault that he is working for unredeemable morons.
I can’t wait to see what they offer me to reconnect my service.
Preach it, sister.
At least our wide-footed friends can go to Payless and find some shoes in wide widths; dare you to find ANY narrow widths there or DSW or Off-Broadway. And no, no, going DOWN a half size does not make up for the fact that the shoe is too wide–it just means my poor toes get killed.
So yeah, I spend at least $100 a pair on shoes (if I’m lucky) or else I leave my shoes behind.
Thanks to 3 9lb boys, try finding a 6.5 wide. I get to listen to my toes scream all day or clunk around in 7s…it’s really hard to concentrate on walking, talking, and curling your toes so your shoes don’t fly off. God forbid I chew gum.
If this hasn’t been covered already, try zappos.com (here’s a Clarks shoe that comes in a 6.5 extra wide).
In other news, I am so over office machinery. Why does the our new HP fax machine require you to load the fax (face down, I might add) before you can start entering phone numbers for a broadcast fax?
In an associated mini-rant, the manual to our new HP fax doesn’t match how the new HP fax machine actually works. It’s like the Nostradamus of the manual world. It’s pronoucements are vaguely applicable, but you still have to interpret them.
GuanoLad, you are aware that the Monday Morning Posts have been running for years? This isn’t a new thing. It doesn’t mean you should get less irritated, but it’s not suddenly trendy. At least four or five people (myself among them) have been regularly posting every week since 2003-2004 or so. And there’s at least fifteen people who have posted semi-regularly for a couple of years.
Oh, you 'splained it perfectly. It’s most assuredly like that here. My boss is the Exception King. I think he’s allergic to standardization. He doesn’t get how much it sucks, up there on the mount, mandating sub-rules to his sub-procedures.
On top of that, we’re consolidating all these companies, and then the umbrella company itself has three different offices all over the country. So there’s no one “corporate” office.
Guess who gets to keep track of all the exceptions? Yes, that’s right. I’m the Lisa of my office. Sometimes it’s like working in a very busy expensive restaurant and it’s always the lunch rush and everyone wants a different item on the side. Or maybe O’Hare the day before Thanksgiving.
Plus, you’ve got a niblet for a head.
::monica geller:
iiiiii know!
::monica geller::
No I’m not aware of that. From my point of view, they stated being referred to and labelled as such only in the last six months.
Why did someone throw a bucket of water (?) out of their third story window in a pedestrian urban neighborhood hitting my dog, myself, and a harmless hipster? My initial reaction was screaming “WHAT THE FUCK?!” But whoever it was had ducked back into whichever apartment it came from. FOOLS
GARDEZ L’EAU!
That wasn’t water, man.
My Dear customer…
Stop asking “Are we having trouble with the system/network right now?” We* may * be having server/network problems. It *may or may not * have fuckall to do with your particular issue. So let’s start out by telling me what your particular issue is and not assume it is a company wide issue right off the bat.
When you tell me you cannot reach the network shared drive, and I ask you the name of the drive you are trying to reach, do NOT tell me “it’s the G drive”. There is no drive named “G”. “G” is a letter that your PC has assigned to the network connection. I may be connected to the same drive and have it labled “F”. Other people have drive they call “G” and it could be completely different from the one you mean. We have more shared drives than you can shake a stick at. Throw me a bone and give some info to work with.
When I ask you if you have rebooted your PC, DO NOT LIE TO ME!!! It only slows things down. And we have event logs and can see if you did or did not reboot.
And please, for the love of all that is Holy, only answer the questions I ask you. I know you have a lot of information to offer up that you think is very important. Most of it isn’t. I know what I’m doing. I will ask you for the relevant info.
Thank you.
Yup, sounds familiar. On the plus side, the $100 shoes tend to be damned comfortable. (They’d better be for that price!)
Also, middle-school aged kids = nightmare.
I’m about to break my own rule and post an “At first glance, I thought that said…”
At first glance, I thought that said middle-aged school kids. That would be disturbing indeed.
That is because we all just looked for the thread started by our founder, Rue De Day, who had to get a real job and retire from the SDMB. The OP is now started by different people weekly and that’s how we indicate it’s the real McCoy. You should join us, because we’re the cool kids, and we’re nice, dammit! 
I eventually just started writing the phone numbers on the back of the last sheet because of this stupidity (and it’s not just HP that does this).
Aw, Rue had to leave?