I’m sorry you are in this situation, but this seems to be somewhat misplaced. Blaming a person for receiving a voicemail where they are being discussed, and not wanting to hear what’s being said? 
It wasn’t a voicemail, it was an open call. I’m not blaming anyone but myself for being careless with my phone. I’m disappointed in Friend R for being unkind and I’m hurt for Friend B for overhearing.
Friend B gave into his curiosity and listened in instead of hanging up when he realized it was a butt-dial. That part’s on him.
Sometimes being an adult is feeling like there is something you should do to fix things, but ultimately realizing that sometimes it’s best to keep your mouth shut. If B doesn’t want to call out R for his comments, I can’t do anything about it. We are all grown ass people in our late 40s to early 50s. Sometimes shit happens. Doesn’t mean we can’t feel bad about it, you know?
Why? If Friend R hadn’t been nasty, your butt-dialing wouldn’t have been a problem.
Why do online news orgs like the New York Times insist on calling Trump “Donald J. Trump” whenever they write about him? I thought use of the middle initial was usually reserved for serial killers and elected presidents? The “J” is unnecessary. Nobody is going to confuse this idiot with his smarter cousin, Donald F. Trump, or the local trash picker Donald U. Trump. It’s annoying the shit out of me so knock it the fuck off, already. :mad:
Union City, huh? If we get them to learn that a red light means stop, and is not a signal for the next 3 cars to go through, I’ll be happy. (I’m in Fremont.)
Bladder infections are bad enough. Side effects from the meds are worse. I do not need fever/chills/fatigue this week, on top of the damn infection, TYVM! I have stuff I need to have the physical capacity to do!
Oh, and not realizing there was a new rant thread for over a week wasn’t good either.
Probably their house style.
It just makes for a nice sequence.
Elmer J. Fudd.
Homer J. Simpson.
Donald J. Trump.
An old friend of mine has recently decided she probably has autism. I have known her for three quarters of our lives, and no, autism is not her issue. She doesn’t like crowds, she says, or eye contact. I love her, but that aint her issue. And i am biting my tongue til it bleeds,
They don’t want people confusing him with Donald R.R.Trump. 
Lost another friend today. 
Not unexpected, since I knew he had gone into home hospice at his granddaughter’s house a month or so ago, and he was 85, but still I’m very sad. He was a co-worker back in the late 80’s, and once MySpace and then FaceBook came around, we reconnected. He was also a Holocaust-era survivor, like my in-laws, although he was younger and was a child refugee, not a camp survivor like them. I will miss his funny FaceBook posts.
And Orenthal J. Simpson, I’m assuming.
Why is it that the people in TV ads tend to be extremely stupid?
I’m beginning to think there’s some law that this house has to have one idiot in residence at all times.
Got two new housemates after the former idiot moved on in January; one seems fine, pretty nice, sensible and fairly tidy. The other has been here just over two weeks, and has already pissed me off by; nicking my stuff from the living room, nicking all the toilet paper (including all the spare rolls in the cupboard), just dropping rubbish on the floor where she’s standing and leaving it, not sorting her recycling and leaving it for the rst of us, leaving all the lights on and going out, then coming back drunkenly screaming in an apparently deliberate attempt to wake the street/house, including at 4am last night. Then when asked to please not do this stuff, she rolls her eyes and acts like you’re being soooo unfair. That or tries to act like she’s all cute and innocent.
She’s basically acting like every teenage cliché rolled into one twentyish irritation.
Luckily the landlord is about as annoyed at her as me, so hopefully she won’t last long. He only let her move in as she was a friend of a friend and apparently so desperate for a place she was willing to stay in the room that’s was the middle of being renovated, so has no plaster on the walls and a paint covered carpet.
I did point out at the time that the odds of anyone being willing to move into that room and having the faintest clue about tidiness or the idea of a pleasant house was pretty damn low.
I work for a government agency and a few months ago, my section was split off and joined with a new ministry. This meant that where we used to have 4 admins, we now have 1 - me.
It’s year-end and to say I’m swamped is an understatement. There are simply not enough hours for me to get everything done and the datelines are not arbitrary, they must be done by that date. My team knows this but keeps asking me to do stuff so I have to say “sorry, I can’t help you right now, year-end stuff takes priority.” It doesn’t help that some people wait till year-end to hand in all their expenses/contracts and other things to me.
Yesterday was Friday and I was furiously working (I haven’t taken a break or a lunch break all week) and Jill sends me an email “last minute binders for our trip, please” which is almost a full days work itself. I replied “sorry, you’re on your own for binders, I have to finish year-end finance”. She complained and whined and blah blah blah. Note that she’s also been complaining non-stop about me getting her claims done as well and she’s going to “have to ask for early pay because there’s nothing in my account”.
I also had a dentist appointment booked ages ago for Friday at 3:15 and was planning on going to it. Instead I told her “fine, I’ll cancel my dentist appointment so that I can stay and HELP with binders”. At 3:00 she finally sends me the documents for the binders and then LEAVES EARLY SO SHE CAN GO TO HER DENTIST APPOINTMENT!!!
She’s lucky that I was stunned to silence as she hurried to the elevators.
Cancer fucking sucks. One of my good friends at work died yesterday. Our desks were about five feet apart and I always knew that no matter how bad the day was going she’d have a smile or a funny comment to make things better. She beat breast cancer only to have her liver fail on her. Single mom, two teen-age kids, she was only a few years older than me.
Rest in peace, my friend.
Dear gamers:
You know those texts the game throws at you? You may try reading them.
You know how when you ask a question in a chat channel, other people write stuff in it? You may try reading that, too.
Reading does NOT cause hernias, it will not make your junk shorter or your hands fall off. Promise.
Not that any of them would read this, of course…
So far this week, our cable has gone out, for about 16 hours; our power went out, for about three hours; our hot water went out for two days and we had to get a new water heater.
And today my car won’t start.
Rick, if you don’t have a Viagra prescription, it might be time to talk to your doctor.
As for me, I pit cancer on general principal. And pollen, because I’m tired of sneezing and crying just because all of the plants want to get their freak on right now. Tired of being hormonal and emotional and having hot flashes, too. And of having songs stuck in my head. (Apparently, that could be related to my hormone hell. According to something I read a few years ago and don’t feel like looking up for a cite.)
Mostly right now, though, I want to pit myself. It’s a very long story. But if I decide to have a cocktail after supper, I should probably temporarily block myself from social media. Otherwise, there’s an excellent chance that I will write something I regret.
I never post after drinking, I’m sure to write something I shouldn’t.
Back when I lived in the sticks, power would go out all the time and of course the internet would crash along with it. If I didn’t have a good stock of dead tree books, I probably would have just died of boredom.
Now, I live in a big city with all the amenities. Except when flipping hurricanes come through and flood everything. I can drive to work in the snow, I can drive to work on ice. I can’t drive anywhere when the roads are 3 feet deep in water. I want to go back to Arizona.
Forgot my rant. It was probably cat related. OK, now I remembered it. Lucky is missing half his mouth and has started pulling up grass. And eating it, roots and dirt included. Then he pukes on the bed. And my shoes. If we didn’t love him so much, I’d close the door to his room and leave him there forever.