Someone at work accidentally declined a meeting invite and sent it to the whole (large) company where I work.
No big deal, it happens. Except that every moron who got it is now hitting REPLY ALL to say that they are getting these messages in error and to take them off the distribution list. A few optimistic souls tried to reply-all to tell people that we ALL were getting the messages, and to stop using reply-all, but that didn’t really work out so well.
To everyone who replied: We are ALL getting ALL of these messages in error. NONE of us belong on this list, and you are just adding to the problem every time you hit Reply All.
The original mistake reply went out on Tuesday, and some people are still replying.
Yeah, I’m sure your violent, incessant hacking is because of “nasal drainage” and not because you smoke. In fact, why don’t you go outside and “light one up” to celebrate that fact, and, after that smooth, refreshing menthol experience, throw your butt on the ground.
Hmmm, think I’m going to have a meatball sub for lunch.
[minirant]Provided I can get out of my building since the idiots waiting for the TTC use the entrance as a shelter. GTFO of my way or I’ll poke you in the sphincter![/minirant]
Why the hell did it take me so long to realize that in order to spot the asshole drivers in my area all I have to do is look in their windows. I’d give specifics, but this is supposed to be mini.
I work in a big building with lots of departments. Lately, in an effort to reduce costs, several departments have elected not to replace their color printer after it breaks. Standard practice in these cases is to give any leftover toner cartridges to the mailroom lady, who then sends out an email to the admin d-list in case anyone has a use for them. All very well and good, right?
Except she marks the emails “of high importance.” So they have big red exclamation points next to them.
The existence of up-for-grabs toner cartridges is not a matter of high importance.
The follow-up email telling us that the cartridges have been claimed is really not a matter of high importance. In fact, it’s of such low importance that she probably should be sending it at all.
In what sort of bizarro narcissistic bubble is she living that she thinks these things are of high importance?
I want to send her an email that says, “Dear Mailroom Lady. I don’t think you understand what ‘high importance’ means. Telling us about available toner cartridges is not of high importance. Telling us that the mail truck exploded and that everything we sent out between yesterday and today is now so much ash floating in the wind…that would be of high importance. Thank you for your attention to this highly important matter.”
How the fuck can you drive a modern car down the interstate for several miles in the dark, and not notice that your damn lights aren’t on?
I mean, come on. Dashboards these days have more lights than the Las Vegas strip, and yet lady you managed to drive on without ever once casting a glance at your dashboard. Another lady in a Pontiac tried flashing her lights at you, but you obviously didn’t take the hint. I finally pulled up alongside and pointed at the front of your car. Then your passenger rolled down her window, I rolled down mine, and was able to shout across that your lights weren’t on. Only then did you finally realize that it was dark, and switch on lights.
I mean, seriously, WTF? How could you not even notice with your peripheral vision that the dashboard was dark?
Working on the principle that its not the bread that makes you fat but what you put on it I like to buy thick sliced bread.
So FUCKING make it thick,if I wanted to buy medium or thin sliced then I would fucking well buy it.
Look on the bright side if it genuinlly IS thick then I’ll use it up quicker and be spending my money in your shop all the quicker.
Can’t get to my Live Journal right now … so this is the spot for my impotent whining.
Right wing radio is alive and well in Maine.
It’s not that I think conservative talk radio shouldn’t be represented in my market, but we already have one station that has Rush, Hannity and Beck on all day. Now the one AM station I listen too that isn’t overtly political (with shows like The Bob and Tom Show, Lex and Terry and The Mike O’Meara Show (nee The Don and Mike Show)) is undergoing a format change starting tomorrow to feature Don Imus in the morning, and I didn’t get the rest of the line up as I was too busy beating my car radio over their preview this morning that consisted of some waterhead going on about, “Why shouldn’t we torture our enemies?”
I’m going to have to regress back into my 20’s and start listening to music on the radio again.
I’m typing up a list of people for my company’s web site. The list includes not only their names, but also their city and state of residence. For some reason, a large number of them are from New Jersey.
I can NOT stop my fingers from typing “Jew Jersey” EVERY. GODDAMNED. TIME.
Okay, I’ll admit, missing one BC pill was pretty stupid of me. I got off schedule, that wasn’t smart. But it was <i>one day</i>. Twenty-four hours. I got up this morning, realized I’d forgotten yesterday morning’s pill, and promptly took both of them, like the instructions say to do.
Well apparently 24 hours of forgetfulness is enough to throw my hormones completely out of whack and start my period a week early. It arrived with a wave of cramps that had me in the fetal position in bed with a heating pad until the double dose of Ibuprofen kicked in.
My uterus is so unforgiving. Damn mini-period better decide to stop and delay its arrival 'til the proper time. I don’t feel like dealing with this twice in two weeks.
Go to GQ. Ask somebody to teach you how to make a macro that will convert the Post Office abbreviations of state names to actual, typed-out state names.
Fuck allergies, fuck juniper, fuck the human body, and most of all, fuck the pharmaceutical industry. Enjoy the $128 dollars I gave you today, fuckheads, and I’ll sit here and squirt your chemicals into my body and enjoy the resultant nosebleeds and stinging eyes and foul taste in my mouth* and grogginess and light-headedness and sore throat. Can’t you put some of that money into coming up with drugs that enable me to fucking breathe without the miserable side-effects?
*No, really, how the fuck does that come from the eyedrops? That’s ten types of fucked up.
Ah, you take Patanol, too? My spring-to-fall allergy cocktail is Allegra, Patanol and Flonase. Of course, I can never tell if my feelings of general ickiness are from the allergies or the medication.
I’d like to take a moment to call out Madison drivers. I drove for a long time in Florida, and now I finally know where all of the drivers who insist on driving below the speed limit across every lane of traffic come from. I swear these drivers are thinking, “Hmm… Have to merge into traffic on the Beltline… Well, I’m getting off in two exits anyway, so there’s really no reason to go any faster than 45.”
Don’t mind me, I’ll just be over here… the guy with Kansas plates who looks like he’s about to blow a blood vessel as he drives to work.
Ah, welcome to the world of Cutting Edge Research!
I had a similar problem when I wanted to do some work involving the catabolic pathways of steroids: as far as I could tell (and I prided myself on being good at searching database articles), only one article on that issue had been published at the time. A friend of mine had it when he was working on his PhD thesis on crop prediction; when he sent articles for publication, the referees would complain about a lack of cites but the thing is, there was nothing for him to cite! At least now his publication list and that of his coworkers is long enough for them to cite each other without looking like self-padding
