Let's mini-rant, shall we?

Today’s interaction with the Eww Girl:

Her: Remember the other day when you were joking and you said I was off your list?
Me: I wasn’t joking, but yes.
Her: Well my friend Bubba says I’m on his list and he got all jealous and blah fucking blah, haha isn’t that funny?
Me: Bubba has nothing to worry about. You’re off it and no one ever goes back on it, no matter what.
Her: I never wanted to be on your list!
Me: That works out then because you’re not.
Her: Yeah but I never wanted to be.
Me: Are you on the rag?
Her: No. Why?
Me: You seem really cranky about something. Are you a little crankypants?
Her: I don’t need to talk to you the rest of the day. Just don’t. storms out

Ahhahaaa, eat some torment in a bag of hell you ewwing bitch.

Here’s a big shock for you. There IS music that was not recorded in the seventies. Try tuning that in at your workstation. Even BAD music from the 60’,80’s,90’s, Now would sound good after having to listen to Doors, Moody Blues, Skynerd over and over and over and over.

And you know I can’t stand the sound of anything that reeks of Paul McCartney. The 10th time that you cranked it up and smiled at me was nine times AFTER that joke quit being funny.

FUCK OFF!

(Ah. I needed that. Feel better now.)

If you’re going to criticize the story I write, please make a point of actually critiquing beyond just “I didn’t like this. Sorry.” Well jeez, want to go out on a limb and tell me what you didn’t like, there? Because fourteen other people loved it, and it’s been eating away at my insides since I saw your comment yesterday, as to what you possibly found to not like about it.

Fucking knob.

Related story: A friend of mine wrote an Irish drinking song for his poetry class. One person critiqued it by saying “I don’t know why it has to rhyme.”

This is why I’m a literature major. 90% of creative writing majors are arrogant tools.

Okay, idiot woman in the left lane. You don’t need to leave 5 car lengths of space in front of you when traffic is moving at 15 miles an hour. And you don’t need to slam on your brakes if you’re four car lengths behind the car in front of you. And since you are exiting right anyhow, you don’t need to be in the left lane at all. When I get my phaser installed …

And the three idiots in different places who had to merge left over the solid lines from the entrance ramps in three different places - you’re next.

That is so true. I’m taking a fiction workshop as my elective this semester. The MFA students kindly informed me that they realize I write genre books because I don’t know any better, but they’ll teach me and help me see the error of my ways. “I think you could be so good if you just try.”

Fantastic.

Considering that the bestselling fiction of the past few years has been genre fiction, methinks they doth protest too much.

“I have the number here somewhere…” (Fumble fumble fumble) “Ah, here… Dial 1 877 Our Scam and…”

I’m sick of this. It started for me on Live365, and now it’s on the radio as I drive. These stupid, annoying-as-hell faux-DJ inserts that try to pass themselves off as the friendly announcer just passing on a tip about this ‘great new way to make money at home’ and then having the balls to pretend that ‘the number’s around here somewhere…’ to make it sound like this isn’t an advertisement.

It IS an advertisement.

If I’d pulled that crap during my radio broadcasts (what few of them I had) I’d have a new asshole chewed for me.

To make matters worse, of course, the ad is for a scam (Internet Speedway). Makes my blood fuckin’ boil.

And another mini. Fuck you, depression and anxiety. Yes, I know you rule my life on my bad days. I know I’ll probably never be fully rid of you. I get the fucking picture. Thanks.

It’s Halloween and no one in this office has chocolate.

It’s a stereotype, but the PMSing woman needs chocolate. I was caught by surprise this morning by the PMS, but it’s here and there needs to be chocolate available in this office when I need it.

Dammit.

Oi, cheapass fuckface client. Do not tell me to sideshow this case, keep my bills low, and then call me for a status report every 3-4 days. Status? What’s my status? I’ll tell you my motherfucking status. Appearance? Entered. Letter? Sent. Calls? Made. My thumb? Gently inserted into my asshole. Retainer? Intact. Economy wash, motherfucker. That’s what you ordered, that’s what you got, now shut the fuck up.

AND ASSWIPE: my computer eats the read receipts you keep attaching to your emails, you ham-fisted fuck. Are you fucking retarded? I send that shit back to you because it amuses me to let you think you can pay me a fucking pittance and actually get away with annoying me to this degree for an unlimited amount of time. But every time my email program asks me if I want to indulge your control freak masturbatory bullshit by allowing the receipt to return, I fantasize about bouncing your bald idiot head off a conference table.

Call me today, I dare you, I double dare you motherfucker. Goddamn I hate referrals.

I’m a car park attendant. I’m sure my job title is different but who’s fooling who? Anyway, it’s a customer only car park. If we let everyone park here and wander in to town; there would be no space left for customers.

You can see me standing outside the shop, it’s not that big a car park (~70 spaces). You’re not fooling anybody by walking into the shop, exiting it 30 seconds later without buying anything and then wandering in to town. I might have a shitty job but I’m not a fucking retard.

That goes for those of you who obviously only buy the cheapest thing they can find in order to qualify for ‘free’ parking. Yes, technically you’re a customer. You still only get 45 minutes though. If it’s long enough for Saddam to deploy nuclear missiles into the heart of London then it’s enough for you to find somewhere else to park.

And people who let their dogs shit outside the shop and don’t clean it up. Yes it’s a pet superstore with its own vets but since when did that give you the right?

And that women who drove past me twice, while on her mobile phone, with a kid in the back of her car. Get with the times already.

I meet a lot of interesting people. There was a wonderful middle-eastern-looking guy the other day. He comes over and talks to me, he just wants a smoke before entering the store. Fair enough. He knew the guy who worked here before me. Things started off okay, he asked me how I liked the job, if it was lonely. I do work alone but I enjoy that, when the car park is quite I can retreat to my hut and listen to the radio, it’s nice.

Then he dropped the bomb… A train went by (the store is right next to the train track) and he commented that he can’t catch a train any more because people give him funny looks. I sympathised (sincerely). Then he started educating me on how silly it was because the 7/7 bombings were a conspiracy by the government. How the CCTV footage was all doctored and the guys with the backpacks were probably just shopping.

“You’re not Jewish are you?”, “You sure you’re not Jewish?”. I wish I’d said “Yes”. Apparently the Jews caused 9/11. “Don’t you think it’s funny that on the day the planes flew into the buildings, 30,000 Jews decided to take a holiday?”… I just let him rant. He knew where I worked and while he seemed bat-shit insane he didn’t seem that dangerous. There is no such thing as Al-Qaeda, everything has been orchestrated in order to get Saddam’s oil and to destroy Iran. The world, and country, is turning to shit because the Jews control all the money and can do whatever they want and blame it on the imaginary terrorists. The media is more than complicit, it’s controlled by them! That’s why we never get the true story. Apparently.

I’d never judge all Muslims by that crackpot. I don’t even know his religion. I met another Muslim guy that day. This guy was definitely Muslim. He had the traditional Muslim name and full beard, heh. He was walking towards the shop with two kids, I smiled and said ‘Good Morning’. He approached me, smiling, and introduced himself. He was incredibly warm and inviting and asked to shake my hand. He said it was good to see someone so happy and kind, I reciprocated. We parted ways and I felt great for the rest of the day. I wish more people were like him.

The crazy dude said he wanted to move to Greece. Good riddance to him. I hope he takes whoever polluted his brain with him.
Edit: I really don’t mind my job. It’s quite a lot of the time, easy. It’s much better than nothing and will tide me over until Christmas at least, after which I can find something better (or go back into further education without fucking it up this time). I do meet a lot of assholes but the good people more than make up for it.

This is more bemusement/exasperation than vitriol, because the situation is just plain ridiculous. I’m in my second full week at my seasonal new job, I don’t have a computer I require to do my assigned duties, I don’t have a desk (I wait until someone’s on lunch and use their computer then), I’m doing very well on learning all my duties, and people keep criticizing me for not working fast enough. Seriously, people, what planet are you from? Why do you keep telling me that I have to pick up the pace? And the next day tell me I’m learning exceptionally fast? Did you think I didn’t get it the first five times you told me? The bank deposits have to be done quickly - I GOT IT! I’M DOING THEM QUICKLY! WHEN I ACTUALLY HAVE THE TOOLS I NEED TO DO MY JOB! Sheesh. I’m working on just letting it roll off my back, but it’s still bugging me a little.

My other, completely non-related mini-rant is Boomers and their incredibly narrow-minded, close-minded, blind allegiance to ONLY music that was made in the sixties and seventies. We went to a Halloween house party last Saturday, and the music wasn’t bad, but it was completely, 100% sixties and seventies - in other words, boring. You know what, Boomers? There actually has been not only good music since the seventies, but freakin’ GREAT music. You poor chumps are totally missing out because of your inability to even consider anything outside of your formative years.

Listen, you ran for the spot on the Executive Board of our organization. Did you bother to look at the by-laws to see what the position you were running for required? Were you aware you are totally unable to do the job?

For me to be able to do what my position requires - send out meeting reminders - I have to have a current mailing list. I have last seaon’s mailing list. Memberships expire September 1st. I send everyone a reminder in October just as a courtesy. I don’t continue using club funds to send meeting reminders to people who are no longer members after October. I need a current mailing list, but you seem incapable of producing one.

You are supposed to make the buttons for the members. These buttons are supposed to be ready at the Meet & Greet. That was last Sunday. No buttons. You “don’t know how to operate the machine.” Did it just occur to you Sunday that you didn’t know how to make the buttons? Did it not occur to you that maybe you could ask someone before the buttons were supposed to be ready? Or did you think someone was going to offer to do them for you?

I have a full time job now. I have much less time to get my reminders done than I used to. If you can’t do the fucking job, please resign so we can get someone in here who knows what they are doing.

I am tired of members bitching at me because you aren’t doing your job. I don’t like you anyway after the stunt you pulled the day of my friend’s death, and this is not making me more fond of you.

Ah, my first Halloween rant of the evening.

Look, you little shitstain - I turned off my porch light. That means we don’t want any more trick-or-treaters. And really, must you bang on my door after you’ve rang the bell multiple times and we haven’t answered? Is it really necessary to look in my windows and scream, “We know you’re in there” while we’re trying to enjoy a quiet family dinner and you’re scaring the shit out of my little son? Is a fucking Hershey’s miniature really that fucking important to you?

I don’t normally agree with the U.S.'s gun laws, but right now, I’m willing to make an exception.

Self-service gas station customers: do your shopping/comfort stop activities AFTER you pump your gas and AFTER you move your car. You need to complete your “transactions” while the gas is actually pumping, okay?

How are you supposed to pay for your gas while it’s still pumping? I had to use cash recently when my debit card had expired and some gas stations aren’t set up prepaying with a credit/debit card.

OI! BRAIN! Stop fretting about the stupid fucking writer’s strike! It’s nothing to do with you! It’s nothing you can do anything about!

And even if worse comes to worse, and all your favorite shows go off the air in January and never come back - IT’S JUST FUCKING TELEVISION!!! GET A GODDAMN LIFE!!!

Who the fuck plans the schedule for my department? Whoever they are they must have a cranio-rectal inversion. All seven (yes, a whopping seven!) upper division courses in my department either overlap somehow, or I have to show up to campus 5 days a week. And they all either seem to start at 9 or get out at 5, putting me at peak traffic times. Whoever does the scheduling is a fucking anal bead.

I’ve heard tales about low-life cable companies, but I never dreamed I’d be telling one. As I mentioned over in MPSIMS, my fiance’s apartment building was gutted by a fire a month ago. It was the biggest fire the boro’d seen in 20 years, it started quickly, and my fiance was on vacation at the time. Fortunately, everyone got out all right. However, when they were grabbing their things and trying to escape the flames, as far as I know, no one grabbed their cable box – one person didn’t even grab his car keys – and my fiance didn’t take his on vacation. That has not stopped Comcast from wanting their cable box back, despite the fire itself and a police report confirming the fire. This is why, when a salvage crew was going up fire escapes to get in the building to recover what they could of the residents’ possessions, they also recovered the cable boxes whenever they could. They know what Comcast is like. Yes, I know the boxes are Comcast’s property, but telling people who’ve just lost almost everything they owned that they have to pay for a cable box unless it can be recovered sounds like a bit much to me.

I’m also unhappy with my doctor’s office. I had an appointment at 6:30 last night, so I went straight to the office from work only to find it closed. I called their answering service on my cell phone only to be told they’d closed at 5:00. When I got home, there was a message on my answering machine telling me they needed to reschedule. While I appreciate the fact that they did leave a message, it was still frustrating driving 15 miles for nothing. I don’t mind them closing early on Halloween; I just wish they’d given me a bit more notice. The appointment was for a birth control shot which means I’ve got a 9-day window in which to reschedule it.