Not a divorce, just a break-up. This has been a long time coming. I just don’t like feeling guilty when I’m the one in the right.
By all that you hold sacred, do not eat a can of Portugese sardines in oil when you have an upset stomach!
A pair of language mini-rants:
A new favorite among right-wingers is “gin up” (a term meaning to create/increase). Columnists and editorialists (for instance at the Wall St. Journal) love to talk about how Obama and Democrats are “ginning up” new regulations or support for a project (“ginning up” has negative connotations (it just sounds sleazy) as opposed to “creating” something). It’s getting tiresome. They need to gin up a different phrase.
Also there is the redundant idiocy of “going forward”. You don’t need to ask what the Romney campaign will do going forward. It’s even more stupid than “on the ground”, as in “We need to have more troops on the ground”. We should take the people who spout these phrases, and throw them under the bus to impact them on the ground until they learn to speak and write.
Going to top my one-month rant record count with this one:
Fucking poison ivy!! For years, I was completely unaffected by it. Then about 5 years ago, I would just get a little annoying rash; nothing I couldn’t ignore and it went away pretty quickly.
Then last week, I got hit with real goddamn poison ivy reaction. It’s just around my left ankle, and a little bit on top of my right ankle, so that’s good anyway.
But dammit…it’s red, swollen, itchy, blistery. I have never conditioned myself to really watch out for the stuff, so now I guess I have to. It sucks. I went on a Roundup spree over the weekend because its all over my yard, and I guess that’ll be a weekly routine now.
On the other other hand, if it is broke, you won’t know about it until it’s probably too late for an easy, high rate of success method to fix it.
… and if it ISN’T broke, you have the peace of mind of knowing that for sure.
Hand to God; I will not WAIT until I have an upset stomach to not eat a can of Portugese sardines in oil!
When I was informed that the procedure is uncomfortable, I said ‘So is cervical cancer.’
Maybe I was out of line, but I think it’s a valid point.
If the substance is greasy or tarry, try rubbing it with vegetable shortening or other solid fat. That should dissolve it and mix with it so it can be washed off. eta: That will work well for skin, not so well for fabrics.
Well balls. I think the dryer belt broke. It hums when I turn it on, but she no spin no more. And of course I now have a load and a half of wet to damp clothes, plus another overflowing basket waiting to be done.
Sigh…off to try and find make and model # and then perhaps an online manual, and then to Lowes for parts, and then home again, when the Big Girl Words will really start to fly.
Good luck.
Might want to think about cutting your losses and looking on Craigslist for a secondhand dryer to replace it (if it’s more than a belt).
Customer satisfaction polls suck rancid donkey balls!
Jee-zusss, how I hate customer satisfaction polls. Is it possible to buy anything more expensive or advanced that a sixpack of beer, a loaf of bread and a liter of milk without being called up to answer a fucking five-minute customer. satisfaction. poll.?
Dammit, if I’m happy with your service, you’ve got yourself a returning customer. If not, I’m voting with my wallet and you won’t see me again. But if you hire a fucking telemarketing company to call me in the evening to answer five fucking minutes of lame-ass questions (where about 50% of the answers are “none of the above”, but you don’t have a fucking “none of the above” entry on your fucking form, so you harass me another three fucking minutes to try to have me give you an answer, which I fucking won’t), you sure as hell won’t see one fucking cent of my money again.
Just sayin’.
VERY mini (in fact, it quite probably crosses the line into sneak-brag territory):
Dear radio show hosts: Thank you ever so much for running the contest in which, by winning, I and my family were permitted to stay the night in the completely non-purchasable Dream Suite in Disneyland Park. Thank you also for your invitation to call into your show and describe the experience for the rest of your listeners.
A decidedly firm UN-“thank you” for not letting me get a word in edgewise, while YOU (I’m looking at you, Mark Thompson) described the history of the suite, the decor, and the amenities. I guess since you’ve been there yourself, and you get paid hundreds of thousands of dollars a year to gab about nothing consequential for four hours a day, you’re more qualified than I am to actually describe the experience my family and I had. :rolleyes:
To all my Doper pals: It was fabulous, magical, and brilliant in every way! SQUEEEEE!!! 
I’m still jealous! 
1 month to the day since getting raped. I was really hoping things would be getting easier. Not happening. Happy fucking birthday to me
Here they won’t even let you off the lot without proving you have insurance.
Considering I won’t even be eating them on a non-upset stomach, I think I’m safe.
{{{madrabbitwoman}}}
I have been where you are now. It does get better. It won’t happen fast, but it will get better. Have you considered seeing a therapist? Sometimes it will ease the pressure to talk it out. I don’t recommend venting about it here because, while the regulars here are pretty understanding, there are some assholes on the board who will do their deal-level best to make you feel worse. If you want to vent in private, you can always send me a PM.
Sardines in oil? Ew. Hork. Yuck. I don’t like any kind of little fishes, and that especially includes anchovies. I also don’t like smoked oysters - my roommate in high school could run me out of the room by opening a can of the nasty little buggers.
Mmmmm… Sardines are delicious, especially on really good bread, toasted of course. A touch of lemon juice is nice, but not required.
Looooove these! But I’m going to go ahead and rant/pit them, because when I open the tin I inevitably spray smoky-fishy-smelling oil all over the place.
So grrrrr, you delicious little devils!
Open the next can outside and/or near cats.
Happy birthday, madrabbitwoman. cheers Random strangers care, for whatever that’s worth. Oh, wait - didn’t you get a kitten? If so - your kitty wuvs you. Go give scritches and make it purr, and cry into its fur if you have to. Things really will get better for you.