“Begging” people, your own parents no less, not to buy you gifts because they might come from a particular store, IS silly, not to mention ungrateful and rude.
Sounds to me like ce had a job she didn’t like or couldn’t handle, so now her former employer is the Evil Empire, and slaveholders to boot. :rolleyes:
Like I said, she’ll get over it, when she grows up.
Ever heard of “hyperbole”? The use of the word begging in that post was hyperbole. Actually, the whole thing was hyperbolic; that’s just how I post. And have you ever worked for Walmart? Researched their business practices? I have good reasons for boycotting Walmart; it’s not just because I didn’t like the job. I’d go into it but I don’t want to hijack the entire post. Suffice it to say, they’re a very unethical company, and you learn even more about their practices when you’re on the inside. Also I did not use the word slaveholder anywhere in that post.
And my parents don’t have any political beliefs.
No, why on earth would I?
See above.
I’m sure you think you do, but I remain rather unconvinced.
Cite?
No, just that their products are “slave-made”. :rolleyes:
No, of course they don’t. Parents are stupid, aren’t they? But you have it all figured out, brilliant highschool or college student that you are. Walmart=Bad, Bush=Bad, America=Bad, but hackey-sack, bongos, and a strong aversion to soap and hot water=Good.
Really, we’ve heard it all before.
Sexual discrimination
Canadian workers’ problems with WalMart
Censorship issues
How WalMart uses foreign suppliers to undercut other companies and force them out of business.
Your condescension is puzzling. You admit you’ve never researched WalMart’s business practices, but you’re sure that someone who has only “thinks” they have reason to dislike them? Oh, and, you being older than ce doesn’t mean you know better. As you’ve so kindly demonstrated with your last post.
Minor Holiday Rant #2: I pit people who interrupt a good holiday rant thread by belittling someone else’s rant. Especially when they start stooping to baseless insults.
Glad you never had to take a shit job to make money. Bully for you.
Yes, ignorance is bliss.
See Maureen’s links, please.
Er, whoosh?
I actually just came out of the shower. Then again, it was my first shower in five weeks. Now I’m off to read my Abbie Hoffman books and piss on the Washington Memorial. Ta.
I’m fairly new here, I don’t recall reading many of your posts. Are you always this much of a fuckhead?
Nah, just when it come to bongo-beaters like yourself.
Hacky-sack, anyone?
What? OW! OW!
Hey, everyone: I’m trying to lose a bit of weight, so stop with the delectable desserts being shoved in my face nonstop. I know it’s chow-down season, but not everyone on the planet is choosing to scarf every sugar-comprised treat offered to them just because it’s December.
I’m not asking for your personal evaluation of my appearance – please just trust when I tell you that my tummy does not need four huge pieces of baklava, or a box of See’s truffles for that matter (I don’t care that it’s “only” the half-pound size, I will NOT eat it all in front of you right now and will most likely feed it to the boyfriend, whose weight goals are opposite of mine).
Really. And don’t treat my [polite!!!] refusal of your rich offerings as though I’ve just stepped up onto your coffee table and began clawing at my own face, screeching “IIIII AM SOOOOOOO FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTT!!!” at the top of my lungs. I’m not fishing for compliments, validation, attention, or chocolates. It’s that freaking simple.
Welcome Continuity!
And, yes, yes he is.
You know, Grue, you really have to sign up here: I’ve only read a couple of your posts, and you BELONG here.
Oh yeah, my rant: IWANTAPONYWHERE’SMYPONYYOUSAIDICOULDHAVEAPONYBRITNEY’SPARENTSAREGETTINGHERAPONYWHYCAN’TIHAVEAPONYTOOIHATEYOUALL! {Slam!}
I pit all those “Jesus is the Reason for the Season” signs that spring up. God, I hate those things.
I pit the relatives who claim to be too poor to give gifts, BUT expect mounds of presents for their whelps. Look, I’m all for not exchanging presents - really, I am - but insisting that I give to the little brats because “Christmas is for the children” bothers me. Especially when the father of one of said brats makes four times what I did in my best year, and his wife has a driver, bodyguard, two live-in maids, and traveled extensively across Europe last year. (I wish I were making this up).
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Make me!
Apparently I have a Xmas Brag Letter Fan Base. No, really. It is the anti-brag letter and it makes those that read it comment to my mom and husband - never to me - how funny it was. This year I will knock them dead with How Wonderful We Are letter. Not to brag or anything. 
Jesus is the reason for 50 % off the already overpriced items of crap you don’t need!
I pit people who have real live christmas trees. This poor tree took 5-10 years to get to this size and you cut it down just to stuff it’s carcass in your living room and cover it with tinsel and throw some fire hazard material all over it.
How fucking macabre is that?
What if I took your grannie who was in perfectly vibrant health, killed her, embalmed her, stood her upright, arms out, and hung ornaments and lights over her? Doesn’t she look good? Put an angel atop her head that glows. Let’s put presents around her feet and sing, " Oh Grannie Baum Oh Grannie Baum…how lovely are your arms…"
Won’t someone think of the Conifers?
I just want to say, I would pay good money to see that. Also, your name makes me giggle out loud everytime I see it. That’s a good thing, really.
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
So was the rest of your post, btw, but that part had me almost in the floor laughing. My sides hurt still!
What a beautifully written piece of pit ranting! It brought tears to my eyes. Any chance you’d consider running for Congress? We could use your lawmaking abilities.
What’s even worse is my grandma is constantly commenting on my weight… then she goes and starts yelling at me “why don’t you eat my piiiiiiiiieee, I made it just for you since I know you like that kind.” Huh? You constantly call me fat, then you make a pie for me?
I’m not even going to see my extended family this year, they haven’t seen me since I gained weight because of my stupid thyroid… I could do without the “omigod you’ve put on some weight” comments this year… (and there’s a few of them who like to pinch some stomach chub while they make the above comment, ick!)
I think SOMEbody’s been in the eggnog…
I pit the most execrable Christmas song I have EVER heard. It was terrible. Awful. I don’t know who it was or what it was called, but it sounded like it could have been a country singer.
Anyway - the singer is in line to buy some last minute christmas gifts on Christmas Eve He sees a little boy (who, of course, is small, dirty from head to toe and practically dressed in rags) with a pair of shoes who is also in line. The boy gets up the counter and goes on and on to the salesperson about how he wants to buy these shoes (please) and could you hurry - they’re for my mother, they’re perfect for her, she’ll love them (etc., etc.) and she’s been very sick lately and these shoes will cheer her up (did I mention that she’s very sick sick) and besides I want her to look beautiful in case she meets Jesus tonight…
At this point I had to turn to another station before I threw up. I have no idea about the rest of the song. But wow - that was just terrible. I don’t want crappy songs in the middle of my Christmas music.
Yuck.
It’s OK. Most Christmas trees are grown as a ‘crop’. Just like wheat, corn or pizza. No wait, not pizza. But the other two.
So don’t shed any tears for that poor little guy, it was his destiny.
Actually, there are several in Richmond, VA - the one I used to go to a lot is still in business, and they built a new one a couple of years ago. They’re still pretty popular there.
E.
Oh, yes. “These Christmas Shoes,” the glurgiest bit of glurge ever glurged, decorated with a heavy drizzling of insipid drivel. And I used to think Grandpa Jones’s “The Christmas Guest” was sort of glurgy. (The difference being that I rather like that one. Grandpa Jones was a cool old guy.)
I’ve only ever heard bits and pieces of TCS, but near as I can tell, it only gets worse as it goes along. Yuck doesn’t even begin to describe it. Ragged urchin, of course, doesn’t have enough money for these beautiful Christmas shoes for Momma to wear when she meets Jesus. Harried yuppie behind him overhears, and has road-to-Damascus type revelation about the true meaning of Christmas. HY pays for the shoes, RU carries on some more about how perfect said shoes are, how sick Momma’s been, and how beautiful she’ll look when she meets Jesus tonight, and then RU scurries on his way.