Don’t think I’ve done a rant before, but I feel like one now.
This is to my roommates. Not all of them, just one couple. Who, because of them and their kids having a cold/flu/whatever, have been boiling water regularly, with cold medicine in it, to help them. I have no clue when they put it on, but they were asleep by midnight, when I woke up.
Cue it foreward about five hours, where I’m interupted from playing on the computer by the sound of a smoke alarm going off. The entire pot of water had boiled away, and I had gotten there just in time to turn off the stove and smoke alarm, before the entire pot erupts in flame. It was a contained flame, at least. The entire damn house smells of smoke right now.
What the fuck were you thinking? Did “thinking” even cross your mind tonight?
People who call for technical support, then proceed to a) tell the support rep how to resolve the issue, b) refuse to allow any troubleshooting, c) refuse to admit they are computer-illiterate, or d) some or all of the above. You called me for help…let me help you. And take me off that damn speaker phone so I don’t have to hear the kids screaming at each other, the dog howling like his tail’s caught in the garbage disposal, and your spouse whining “What’s taking so looooonnng?”. Get a grip - you’re paying for support, for the long distance call, for the privilege (yes, privilege ) of getting 24x7 support - so let us do our job as quickly & painlessly as possible. No, I don’t care that you’re an accountant - I was an accountant for 26 years before “retiring” here, and you’ve got maybe 2 weeks worth of experience. No, I don’t care that you’re the “IT Guy” - you still can’t figure out how to setup a network/firewall/router/user list and you have to let me hand-hold you through the process. And, NO, I don’t care that you just had surgery and it’s hard to think - if you’re recovering from something that serious, then go back to bed and get off your computer until you CAN think clearly.
(Sorry, work rant. And it’s for Ass-hats like this that I’m at work at 5am on a Saturday or Sunday)
Just wanted to thank you for disrespecting same-sex couples this upcoming valentine’s Day with your Valentine’s 5K. Your registration fee is $4 per individual and $7 for couples consisting of one male and one female. Sure, it’s only a dollar, but that dollar sends a message loud and clear on how little you value an entire class of people. Not to mention that since Wisconsin forbids discrimination based on sexual orientation, you’re probably breaking the law.
You forget the sight of the apparent hubby looking at his spouse and then at his watch and tapping the latter while the helpless woman attempts to accomplish this difficult feat without the benefit of the wonder aid.
If my hubby tried that crap he would find himself wearing that Brand New Amazing Combination Pasta Hat/Flesh Boiler®.
What skeeves me out are those commercials for some kind of singing cookie with teeth, ala Wallace and Grommet. Jeez! First they are riding the bus/subway in some sort of unholy menage eh cream then they are revolving in a microwave “geting hot” all the while singing and flashing those teeth.
To the jerk in the seats in front of us at the hockey game:
You’re on the FRONT ROW. WHY do you need to sit on the eadge of your seat and learn forward, thus effectively blocking my view of almost half of the arena??? And stop inviting your jerk friends to sit down in seats they didn’t buy. This makes people who SHOULD be in those seats have to wait for your jerk friends to MOVE, thus blocking our view EVEN MORE.
Ok…I read this thread and decided to add my own mini-rant.
Teenagers,esp the ones who go to the local mall around here, are the biggest examples of asshats in the making I have ever seen.Example…last Weds I was at the mall buying a pair of cheapoid shoes from the cheapoid shoe store.As I was walking along headed for the food court (upper level)I passed by two teenage girls. They couldn’t be bothered with going DOWNSTAIRS to where their friends were at so they stood there and shouted at each other.Even worse…when I finally got out to my car in the lower level of the parking garage,I was almost run down by a pimple-faced asshat teenage boy who could barely see over the steering wheel of his brand new enviromentally dangerous SUV which was packed with similarly asshatty pimple faced teenage friends.
Ugh.
It says on the contracts that we take clothing on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. It says it on our business cards. It says it on the door. CAN’T YOU ASSHATS READ??? Also, no one wants to buy your old underwear. Swimsuits are just as bad. Nor do they want shirts with big freakin’ stains down the front. Three garbage bags does not equal “just a few things.” When we say that we write checks on the tenth of the month, we really mean it. No, really. No, we don’t have room for five hundred pairs of sweatpants. No, we do not take potty chairs. It is February. It is Michigan. No one will buy your shorts! Gently used does not mean stained, scorched, and holy. We don’t take ugly clothes. We don’t take clothes that smell like pee. GO AWAY! GO AWAY AND LEAVE ME ALONE RIGHT NOW!!!
On the other hand, I could work at the Salvation Army. So I shouldn’t complain too much.
ARRRGGGHH!!! You just reminded me of one of my pet peeves.
Then they (the stores) should PLOW the @#!@%!@#% Parking LOTS!!!
Stores that want you to take your carts back after it took you 5 hours and three quarts of sweat to get the damn thing to your car in the first place, and the cart corral has half a dozen carts piled up in front of it, and none IN it because the damn grocery won’t keep up with the snow plowing, and it is (the corral and the parking lot) full of snow so that the few people who tried to take their carts back couldn’t get them into the corral in the first place!!, and the parking lot is near impassable from the snow and “ice cakes,” and is swallowing rice rockets as it is!
You’ve managed to lug your trash all the way to the trash room. Could you please lug it six more inches and put it down the garbage chute? Yes, I know there’s a nice big trashcan right next to it, and I’ve used it for a few small things myself. There’s still no need to stick a full-sized, closed garbage bag in it when the chute’s right next to it. I’d also grumble about the person who put a pizza box in the box used for recycling newspapers, but I suspect he put it there because it wouldn’t fit in the overstuffed garbage can. I know this sound a bit anal, but honestly, the space between the garbage can and the trash chute is narrower than my monitor!
And what’s with all these TV weathermen acting like they actually control the weather?!?
They take credit for “good” weather days, and promise better weather for later in the week when it isn’t 70 today.
And why o why is it “bad” weather just because it’s* raining or snowing? Besides actually liking the snow, I also recognize the need for some sort of precipitation so that all the plants don’t die and our resevoir stays at a decent level.
I hate all the people who are about to post and correct any spelling and grammar errors I may have made.
it’s = it is So, bite me!
I also hate people who take literally things I say about biting me.
Another mini-rant:
Hey morons,as if women don’t have enough pressure to look good already, you are going to broadcast a show showcasing the ‘hottest people in America’.WTF is up with THAT? I mean it’s bad enough women are fooled (thanks to the media and others)into thinking we all have to look like Barbie,Britney and Pamela but to have the fact that not NONE of us are hot by showcasing these little young things with no meat on their bones and giant bubble boobs and empty heads filled with spam and vodka is pushing it way too far!I thought showing “Joe Millionaire” was bad enough.But have we as a society actually sunk so low that we are going to broadcast and possibly WATCH this kind of skunk shit?Why don’t you spend the money you’re wastiing on this kind of cheesy,assmonkeying,diseased penis farts on something worthwhile that the entire family can enjoy?
A micro-rant involving **People Who Don’t Grasp The Fundamentals Of Basic Conversation **
You do not need to go into every detail of what buildings you pass on your way to and from somewhere. All you have to say is, " Hey, by the Kroger - Kmart plaza, did you know there is a new X store? " By condensing, you would have shaved 15 minutes off the conversation.
By shaving the details down to a sentance or two, would condense everything nicely, to say, a nice 15 minute conversation instead of 2 and a half hours of comatose induced ramblings.
Dear State,
We’re about to have a snow storm, do you think you could plow the fucking roads tomorrow? Not like Friday, when you let all five inches of snow pile up before doing a damn thing about it. My dad is sort of sick of people fish-tailing on the unplowed roads and hitting his car! (the car isn’t even a year and a half old yet and he has already had two people hit it.) I hate fucking winter.
I hate you SDMB, for being the biggest productivity black-hole in the universe. If it weren’t for you and my cursed addiction to information, I’d actually be able to get some work done in this damn place. But NOOOOOOO! You lure me to you like a stank ho. Your power over me exceeds that of Krispey Kreme donuts and Real World marathons. Help! I cry, trying to resist your advances.
But you don’t listen. You don’t care. I have no willpower. The refresh button calls to me, whispering “you know you want to click on me, you know you wanna see the latest posts”. And I have no power to resist.
I hate you SDMB. You’ve created a monster, and that monster is me.
These swivel-heads get the vein in my forehead close to the EXPLODING point. The other day, I’m on my way to work, and I hear on the radio that there’s a bad accident on the road I’m taking. But it’s on the OTHER side of the highway, so I stay on.
Only to become enmeshed in a HUGE traffic jam. I’m talking inching along, interspersed with long periods of no movement at all. For two miles.
FINALLY I get to the front of it and discover that it was nothing but a friggin’ GAWKER’S BLOCK. The accident on the other side of the highway does indeed look pretty bad, from my position a quarter mile from it on the other side. Which is my last chance to see it, because there’s a big concrete divider that blocks your view if you’re any closer. But these moronic carnage junkies are inching past ANYWAY, perhaps hoping that some blood will come arcing over the divider and spatter their SUVs with a little much-lusted-for gore. Once past the accident site, everybody speeds up and goes on their way.
GOD I hate you syphilitic, hollow-chested monkey humpers. If you want to see blood and guts, go rent Faces of Death. Go study to be an EMT. Hell, go buy season tickets to NASCAR - sooner or later the law of averages will deposit another Earnhardt in your lap. But GET OFF THE FREAKING HIGHWAY.
