There was this earthquake, and a tsunami. And my cousin had to pick up some books that slid off the shelves, and then walk home from work, because public transportation was down.
I’m not really getting your rant.
I took it as a sarcastic stab at folks posting about their petty little annoyances in the midst of an international tragedy.
Of course I wasn’t even aware of the earthquake until after I posted. I took the day off work and have been holed up by myself futzing around on my computer, watching NCAA basketball and waiting for my package. shrug
Don’t put a space before a question mark.
Don’t put a space before an exclamation mark.
Don’t make me hunt each of you down and beat you with a hardcover copy of The Elements of Style.
What !
People do that ?
There are hardcover copies of The Elements of Style?
Asshole parents who can’t control their asshole children.
Yesterday we stopped at the local serve-yourself frozen yogurt bar. It’s a place where you can put your own toppings such as crushed candy bars on top of the yogurt. They also have those old style gumball/candy machines with the metal knob on front that you turn until nuts or other goodies come down the chute into your bowl, only they don’t require coins.
My wife always get nuts on her yogurt, while I go straight for the crushed Heath bars. Yesterday, there were other adults there with obnoxious children running wild and being a nuisance, as the parents sat there with indulgent smiles on their faces.
Then the little darlings began fooling around with the row of nut dispensers, first licking their fingers, then wiping them on the chutes and licking off the bits of nuts stuck to them, while the parents continued to just be oblivious to it all. Needless to say, that’s the last time my wife will use them.
I don’t much like children to begin with, but asshole children with asshole parents really piss me off.
I don’t want your wife to have to eat her frogurt sans nuts, but I suspect that even if you try a store where you didn’t actually witness that, the same kind of behavior goes on.
Did you speak with a manager about what you saw, and your concerns? It might be a problem they’ve already got mitigated.
Why is it that the shittest fucking clubs all have fucking shoe restrictions? Excuse me, doorman? Peer yonder beyond the velvet rope and behold your giant shithole club full of cunts and fucking idiot dickheads bouncing around like morons! Who, exactly, are you trying to keep out? What standards are you trying to maintain? And is one’s choice of brogue an appropriate indicator of social class?
Is your position that only gentlemen of a certain calibre are worthy of entry onto your day-glo, sticky, booze stained dance floor to bounce around like fuckheads to Lady fucking Gaga while buying overpriced shit drinks from your surly barstaff? Is your aim to ensure that these gentlemen can snort coke off a fucking toilet seat through a rolled up train ticket without being harassed for alms by the hoi-polloi? I mean, really, why do I have to wear shoes to get into your fucking wonderful club?
I don’t want to come here at all, by the way. Let me make that clear right now. I don’t like overcrowded clubs, expensive drinks, long queues and shit music. Not my cup of tea. Unfortunately, for reasons too tedious to go into, I’ve got be there. Now, I could wear my work shoes, which are unfashionable and not particularly comfy. But what I want to do is wear my nice lovely new converse, which are both. I figure I’m going to be having a miserable enough time anyway what with being surrounded by hundreds of people studiously drinking themselves into catatonic stupors to forget that they’ve again just been conned and bullied into forking over a days wages to you fucking mercenaries for a one-size-fits-all night of formulaic fun in your fucking cretinous conveyor-belt ship-'em-in toss-em-out club. I might as well be comfy. But noooo. That’s not allowed, is it? Because you motherfuckers have standards.
Wanna know the difference between a good club and a shit club? The people who go to a good club know they’re in a good club. And they can wear whatever they fucking want. Because it doesn’t matter. Because it’s a good fucking club. The people who go to a shit club need to be flattered by knuckleheads and made to feel like they’re in some way exclusive. “Oh, this place doesn’t just let anybody in”, they sputter inbetween heaves as they puke enough alcohol to kill a small elephant into an alcove behind the DJ stand. You need to look smart to get in here. Well congratulations, chump. You’re in a shit club, and you’re drinking so you don’t have a shit time. And later, you’re probably gonna have a fight because you’re an asshole. But at least you’re wearing shoes :rolleyes:.
Fuck!
I’m hoping that they clean the equipment at least daily. And I’m sure it goes on all the time, but one can sort of live in denial if one doesn’t actually see it happen. I shot the parents my best stinkeye as we left, and I know that the guy caught it, because he gave me the “whaddayoulookin’ at?” look in return. In retrospect, I should have spoken to the clerk and asked that the machines be wiped down. Next time we go there, I’m going to ask how often they clean that stuff.
This is precisely the reason I don’t frequent all-you-can-eat self-serve restaurants, or even help-yourself salad bars, as I’ve seen kids take food out with their fingers, take a bite and throw the food back in. No sneeze shield can protect you from that. Nothing can idiot-proof you from crappy parents, either.
::Adds Chimera to the list::
Sattua, you need to get the “school and library binding” version, but yes.
Yeah, I’ve seen that way too many times recently, too (including a kid licking the top of the parmesan cheese shaker on the table). I like salad bars, but I think I have to stop going to them, too, because people won’t watch their kids.
Wait, why aren’t you going to one of those “good” clubs, again? 
Dear Husband: Calling me at work at 2 am to gripe because “my” dog is barking? Really?
And then getting offended when I ask (reasonably, I think) “Well, what would you like for me to do about that?” It’s not as though I can leave work and come home to calm the dog. Nor is it as though I never take care of “your” dog. (Because it’s a rare day that I don’t feed and walk his K9 at least once. “My” dog is a family pet, though, and apparently isn’t allowed to be “high maintenance” - i.e. “might need to be walked before Mama gets home from work.”)
And don’t get all passive-aggressive and shit when I ask (reasonably?) “Well, I can’t come home for at least three hours, so what would you like for me to do about this situation?” I’m not trying to be a bitch, I’m just sincerely wondering what the purpose of your call is… Do I need to re-home my dog? Do you just need to gripe about having to walk the dog? What?
Would you do me a favor?. Please?.
While you’re beating them, also beat the people who put a period after a question mark or exclamation point.
Thanks!. I appreciate it!.
I don’t blame the kids anymore than I blame wild animals. It’s the parents who are supposed to be controlling their children.
I have a cousin who’s terrible about this. She seems oblivious to her responsibility to set rules for her children. And it’s not just social or hygiene issues - she won’t even enforce basic safety like don’t run out onto the road.
One would think, based on the bolded part, that the problem will eventually take care of itself.
Sympathies. 
btw- infuriating? Your privacy was just violated. How are you not totally freaked that your previously crime-free neighborhood now lists you as ‘the easiest mark’? I’m going to assume that you spoke to the people on both sides & across the street & that nobody saw anything.
Thats a warning sign (kinda-sorta) as good neighbors, even in tough neighborhoods, really look out for each other and expect the same in return.
The other thing that bothers me about the scenario (beyond the grand theft part)is that its a whole lot easier to transport electronics in a box instead of carting them around with the cords flopping all over tripping you. Ask anyone who has opened a PC downstairs and then carted it upstairs to install and they’ll verify this. Some people might even say that you usually only open the box 100-150 feet or so from where you intend to install or set up because of this. Which could point you back to some of the very same people you were just asking “Hi, did you see anyone on my lawn by that huge box that got delivered the other day?”
OK, I suppose its possible a couple people drove by, box-cut out the item, humped it to their car and then drove off…but the nagging question still remains: how did they know it was there?
Probably. I know I felt a little silly about my rant when I read the coverage shortly after I’d posted it but that’s life. Everyone doesn’t know everything at the same moment and while seeing a disaster occur on the other side of the world certainly puts some minor irritants in perspective but it doesn’t cause the entire world to stop. (Although it does apparently move it 10 cm)
Bad parents are what make me dislike being around young children, including my own grandchildren. Makes me make a sad face.