You! In the gold Lexus SUV! Yeah, being stuck in a constrution road narrowing sucks. Especially if the people in the lane that the signs say will be closing, soon, are blowing by while we’re at stop & go traffic.
This does not give you an excuse to driiiiiiiiift over into the middle of the two lanes, in an attempt to block the other jerks. Especially not doing that without signalling, I’d really rather avoid front row seats for a high speed crash. But then when you add lane-splitting to what you’re doing, you’ve proven you have the brains of a turnip! First off lane-splitting is illegal in NYS. Secondly, and perhaps more to the point, even those places where it is legal - it’s not legal for four wheel vehicles!
I hope the people who have been assualting Kinthalis’s car find your pretty gold Lexus and turn it black, and grey, and brown…
Sorry to upset your tummy, neutron dear, but I will not use my family’s real names here, so I will continue to refer to them as the Ivyclan. I’m not trying to be cutesy. I think most people realize when a Doper refers to a someone as a spin-off of their user name, that it’s a close family member.
And quite frankly, if you referred to your kids as neutrinos I would both squee all over myself and applaud you for your imaginative wit.
I know women of a certain age like to think they’re too good to use the phrase “boyfriend” to refer to the man they’re dating, but the stupid euphemisms have to stop.
There’s nothing more ridiculous than a grown woman telling me about her weekend my beginning “My honeybunch and I…”
Wow, you’re right. I’ve totally been obsessing over it since I made that post. My life is in shambles and very pretzel-like at this very moment. This is a mini rants thread for pete’s sakes, if you don’t like it, kindly fuck off.
I just watched an episode of Cops with my husband. I can’t think of a cute Dopername for him or I’d use it. Anyways, they’re in Fort Worth, I think, and this cop is checking out a park. It’s night time and the park has a curfew.
The cop walks up to a parked car. Three people in the back seat – a woman, a man, and a small child. The kid looked to be about three years old. The man has has pants down around his ankles.
Cop tells the guy to get out of the car. He does, and pulls up his pants. He tells the cop the woman is his ex, and the child is hers, not his. He says he’s married and not getting along with his wife.
The cop lets him off with a curfew ticket. Cop chastises the guy for getting his jollies off in front of a small child. He says he would have charged him with more but can’t, since he “didn’t see anything”. Cop says nothing to the woman who was about to blow a guy in front of her kid.
Honestly, I think my blood pressure would be about 20 points higher without mini-rants. I come here, spout about some stupid-ass thing, and forget about it.
Other message boards - this one has it’s flaws, sure, but it isn’t the craphole that another one I am making the error of frequenting is. Stupid, ill-informed, close-minded people really should not try to engage in debates (I mean them, not me. At least, I’m pretty sure I do.) They should stick to the flirting fora, where their lack of a functioning brain is an asset. Jerks.
We are NOt ganging up on you
We are concerned about how you go into wild ass emotional breakdowns, and have treatment services as part of our benifits package
We don’t like how you rant at customers, fellow staff and the people only you can see
Sure you threw a BBQ, and then didn’t let anyone bring food… we just don;t understand why you freaked out when people tried to eat “your food”
So… Today, when you tried to push the ladder the guy was on, as it was “acting as an antenna for discomfort” we called you in, and put you on probationary leave, pending your visit to a psychologist… why… oh why
Did you threaten us with murder? (I will kill you all in my sleep… you are all asleep… you are never gonna wake up!"
That required a n immediate “escort from the premises”, plus a call to the cops, plus a really bad scene for customers and staff.
I take my arthritus medicine so I can do the lifting and other activities required for my job. Why did you go off your meds?
I feel sorry for you kid, I really do… but I had to fire you… Company policy requires it.
I think the only way I’d reference him would be in sentences like, “Damn, I sure feel sorry for your boyfriend,” or “Fuck, am I glad I’m not your boyfriend,” so I guess it doesn’t really matter.
Maybe when he gets a little bit older. Loki suggested UnclePam. I like it. “My husband” sounds so proprietary. And it always reminds me of the time Condi Rice referred to GW that way.
Dog pooped in the house this morning just when I was starting to think she was housebroken. Mom sent me some stupid e-mails about Obama being the anti-Christ. A co-worker blithely pushed some of her work on to me, and since it was a patient-care issue, I did it. Someone else needs something FedExed overnight, and the person who has it is on vacation. We still haven’t gotten the parking passes we need and I threw out the old ones. IT keeps telling my supervisor they’ve fixed my computer problem, but they haven’t. When I went home for lunch, the dog chewed the heel of my good shoes. The soreness at the corner of my mouth indicates that I’m developing another zit. One of my kids ate the ice cream my stepson bought for himself. I left my sweater home and I’m turning blue with cold.
I dearly love my cat Stacy. I have had her for her entire 16+ years. But I’m starting to hate her behaviours. Some of the time, she uses her litterbox. Other times, she doesn’t. The cleanliness of her box has absolutely no bearing on when she decides to use it, either. Thankfully, she only pees in the laundry room, but will crap in whatever room she happens to be in at that moment. I’ve picked up poop in my closet, behind the TV, behind the computer desk, behind the rocking chair, under the crib, and under the dining table. And she has ruined the laundry room - not just the floors. When she finally dies, we’re going to have to remove the linoleum, seal the concrete, replace the baseboards, cut and patch drywall, replace the threshhold and trim on the door to the garage, strip and repaint that door … and then replace the flooring.
Then there’s the food issue … she’ll only eat canned food, which is fine. Since we have a dog and a toddler, we can’t leave the food out for her all the time, but we make sure it’s down for most of the day. She howls when she wants to eat, and half the time the food is right there in front of her. But she wants it stirred up so it’s easier to eat. And the she’ll hork it back up on the floor right next to her bowl - or sometimes back into it. Eeeeeeeeeewwww.
To make a long story short, most of the time, I love and treasure my old kitty. But some days, I wish she’d just die already.
The cutesy husband and kid names only bother me because I can’t do it myself. If I referred to my husband as Leto II or perhaps the God Emperor, not only would next to no one on the board understand who the hell I was talking about, I’d also be implying that my husband is also my twin brother and part sandworm. Also, I could refer to my (future) children as the Atreides, I suppose, but that would also be implying that they were fathered by a man other than my husband. If only I had known, I would have chosen someone from literature with a slightly less complicated family.
And that’s the worst thing happening to me today. That and the heartburn. Life is tough.
I’m so glad to see your post, Avarie. I love my cat, too, but some of her behaviours also drive me crazy. I come home from work, I want to sit and veg for a few minutes, but kitty wants to play RIGHT F’N NOW!!!1!!! She has another cat in the house, but that isn’t good enough for her - it has to be her human playing with her, on her terms, for as long as she wants. And the ungodly mewling if she doesn’t get her playtime. On the one hand, she’s mostly a great cat, except for this, and I do understand that kitties need to play, but on the other hand, give me a friggin’ break already! I don’t want to chase you around the house for half an hour!
