It’s just an excuse to put off doing dishes for half an hour.
Fucktards who abuse the breakroom. How would you like it if you had to clean up the cans all over the floor after people overflow the trash can intentionally? Do you think they are picked up magically? It’s a shameful, sticky mess and you all are pathetic for adding to the pile.
People who are wankers for no apparant reason, like when you tell them an answer they want, and they say ‘I wasn’t asking you…’
Hey! No one asked you.
And another thing…
That little lever at the side of your steering wheel that your using to hang your air freshener on - it has another use. IT’S A TURN SIGNAL, YOU SENILE OLD POOP!!! I was leaving my parking lot at work when an old, old, old guy comes along the lane. He has right of way, so I wait for him. He stops and starts frantically waving at me to go ahead of him, because I’m in his way so he can’t turn into the parking lot. Well, ya know, if you had your TURN SIGNAL on, I might have clued in that you were turning and not going straight. Then, as I go to get out of the parking lot and make room for him to turn in, he starts to go before I’m out of the way and nearly t-bones my car. It reassures me to no end to know that someone whose reflexes, eyesight and hearing are nearly gone is also impatient and aggressive. I can sleep nights now.
Food Prep:
-Hey dipshit burger maker…ever thought to yourself “yknow what I could really go for right now. A big 5 inch wedge of iceberg lettuce heart on top of my burger!” No? THEN WHY THE FUCK DID YOU PUT IT ON MINE? I am not a god-damned 6’4 irish rabbit and I paid for a burger, not the last chunk of the worst of the lettuces. I can only get these once in a great while, so let me enjoy it as it should be.
-Hey burrito boy. I don’t care what you think, a metric buttload of pico de gallo in my burrito is not FUCKING FILLER. Put some more cheese, maybe some beans, hell even more cilantro but if I want a chopped tomato burrito I will ask for it you assbeef.
Kids:
-Look Mom, I know your little turd is stuck on dad and misses him when he goes to work but do I have to suffer the 6 hour rendition of "dog getting nuts cut off’ crying you let the little troll perform nightly at the window?? Jesus Christ, plug the little monster up with a stick of gum or something. Oh yea, I know you were hopping mad and decided to tell the ‘phantom voice’ to cram it after he screamed “SHUT UP YOU LITTLE SHIT!” from around the corner. Guess who that was? Plug the little beast up before I put a bounty on him with the other kids to egg your property consistently along with special bonus to pop the little moon face blasting out the front window.
-Hey little fart jumping up and down and yelling to play the game. You got 300 bucks? Gonna buy a Xbox now? Ever wondered what its like to sail over three aisles of sporting goods and electronic equipment? No? Well the last one is gonna come true if you dont let me try out the machine I got the MONEY TO BUY for more than 3 seconds. I dont care if your mom is Flo Target and your Dad is Bill Gates, I am here to buy, you are here to waste fucking time while your mom tries to buy a fashionable tent to wear and your sister is figuring out how many Eminem cds she can cram in between her ass cheeks.
TigoleBitties–let me guess.You work in retail doncha?
Very nice.
You have no idea how many times it happens.CG works for a major retailer of music,etc and he says its happened at least a dozen times in the 7 years he’s been there.
Now my retail rant:
Yes…the dipped strawberries are pretty and probably taste good.But for god’s sake…learn the difference between a $ and a cent sign for crying out loud!Do not ask me if they are $0.33/lb and then bitch at me when I tell you they are $33/lb you cumguzzling,overstuffed,Britney-wannabe skate-felching grandma fucking shit for brains. Do not come into my store and whine about the high prices if you can’t afford to buy stuff!DO NOT DO NOT DO NOT ask me if you can ‘borrow’ our bathroom(which is in the stockroom where you are definately not allowed)because you are too lazy to take your stupid brat 50 ft down the hall to the women’s/family restroom. DO NOT ask me if we have chocolate breasts and/or penises.If you want candy porn, go to Spencer’s on the second floor. They carry a wide array of candy porn for you to point and giggle at you immature little rabbit-felching fucktards.
IDBB
An open letter to my cat.
Okay, so you’re feeling emotionally needy this morning. First of all, aren’t you supposed to be a solitary predator? Go predate something and leave me alone.
You are not allowed to climb on the keyboard, I can’t see through you when you sit in front of the monitor and it’s a real hassle trying to get the hairs off the screen.
Fine, you need some attention. Just sit in my lap and I’ll pet you. OW! Get the claws out of the thigh! Just sit… I said sit, quit climbing me OW! I don’t need to be scent marked, and you just knocked my glasses askew with your nose. I’ll tell you what, I’ll lean back so you can have more lap to sit on. Lap, I said, you can’t fall asleep on my stomach at that angle OW! Why don’t you take a position OW where you don’t OW need claws to support your OW, you little son of a bitch!
Do NOT follow me into the bathroom. It is best for both of us if you are not present when I am putting the antiseptic on all of those scratches.
Sincerely,
The guy with the thumbs he can use to open tuna cans or turn you into a pair of mittens.
This week’s Ari Fleischer Award for Straight-Faced Bullshit goes to WROV, a radio station out of (I think) Roanoke.
They have a commercial for themselves in which they talk about the “WROV Archives”–“The classic hits you can’t get anywhere else!” And what song do they play a clip from right after this statement?
“Stairway to Heaven”. I shit you not. They follow it up with more clips from overplayed Zeppelin and Skynrd.
Yeah, those are tracks I can’t get anywhere else–except on the other three stations with exactly your format that I can get from my car! Hell, I’d bet dollars to donuts that one of the songs you just played a clip of in that commercial is being played on one of those other stations right now!
It doesn’t bother me that you refuse to play anything that someone might not have heard before–you’re just an occasional stop when there’s nothing good on the college stations, anyway. However, don’t act like your playlist is somehow fucking unique. That sort of sincerely-delivered, obvious bullshit is just mind-boggling.
To the sub shop downstairs from my office:
Do you have to play the same music over and over and over again?!? Every day at 3:00pm I hear “I really love him…unconditionally.” Shut up! Play something different just once! Geez!
I concur. It made some sort of sense when she had to turn the letters, but now she just vaguely waves in the direction of the monitors. What’s the point? Meanwhile:
Lipton: my rage burns with the furry of a thousand tongues.
The cafe where we have our break during rehearsals has switched from Twinings teabags to the vile shit that is Lipton, that leaves you feeling like you need to shave your tongue afterwards. And there’s no other place to go nearby!
I’m gonna start bringin my own teabags…
To the inept security guards at the mall:
WHY oh why do you choose to sit with your little golf-cart mall security-mobile in the danged turn lane that leads OUT of the mall when I’m trying to leave?What is the point anyway?Really?Why can’t you be off doing something else,like stopping the drag-racers in the parking garage who almost ran me over 10 min ago?Stupid donut-felching morons…
And to the guy who sells hermit crabs out of a plastic box on a mobile stand…for god’s sake THINK of the crabs.I’m sure they do not appreciate being stuffed into a tiny plastic tank by the hundreds to be sold, nor do they appreciate the hordes of unwashed,smelly,ignorant future gerbil-felchers that come up and ‘play’ with them all day long.Nor do they appreciate being dropped from a fairly high(for them anway)drop when they reach out and give the little brats what they deserve by pinching them.Please…think of the crabs!
IDBB
An explanation to the world for when I go insane:
Sometimes…no, scratch that…Often, I feel like I’m surrounded by stupid and lazy people. It makes me want to scream sometimes, and wonder how we’re all part of the same species. I’m not saying that I don’t have my stupid moments; I do. However, some of these people are just so lazy, unintelligent, or both that they just drive me nuts. :mad:
To those of you who want me to help you with your homework:
You know, I really don’t mind helping you at all. I help you, just as I would want other people to help me. However:
- I will NOT do your homework for you.
- You may NOT copy my homework. I worked long and hard on that, you should have to too.
- If you want my help, fine. But you’d better be nice about it. You try and act condescending or take an attitude with me, you aren’t getting my help.
- Look in the book first! You know, that big thing with lots of pages with words on them that they kill trees to make? :smack: Yeah, that thing. Look in it. Do NOT make me waste my time trying to explain something to you when you could have looked it up yourself. Also, I am not going to look it up for you. If you still don’t understand it, I would be more than happy to help.
- If I end up yelling at you out of frustration over your laziness, do NOT blame it on the teacher. It is NOT her fault that I am yelling at you.
Now, anyone have any questions?
The other day my brother-in-law called me at work. He was at my house using my husband’s computer. While there, someone called and he took a “message” for me. Here’s the message:
Him: “Emily called and she said she’d meet you tonight at the green … thing.”
Me: "HUH?"
Him: “Oh. I thought you’d know what that meant.”
Me (patiently): “No. Did you get her phone number?”
Him: “Uh, no, I thought you’d have it.”
AUGH! Listen to me for a fucking second, you fucking loser. If you are too stupid to take a fucking message don’t pick up the fucking phone. We have a machine attached to telephone – see the shiny red light? – that takes actual, useful messages. If you weren’t so fucking stoned all the fucking time, to the point where you’re constantly surrounded by a 10-foot miasma of choking-death pot fumes, perhaps you would be less of a fucking waste of space. But I’m not betting on it.
Sigh.
My minute Rant?
Okay, this might be quite profaine…I want to slam Micheal Jackson’s head into a wall and smack him silly. This man makes me want to hurt things on so many levels that I can hardly comprehend my own thinking when his name comes up.
In the 80’s, right after the first nose surgery, when thriller came out, he was cute, he was still a human being, you could ask him a fucking question without him breaking into fucking tears like a 4 yearold boy! But no, Micheal has to go completely nuts, fuck up his damn face, become fixated on little boys and start acting like the worlds biggest narcistic asshole. I know they say that he hs really mental problems or whatever. So What? See a shrink! Do not go around seeing little boys with your penis! Someone needs to go up to him, speak to him like the 44 yearold man that he should act like and say that he needs to fix his fucking act or one very pissed off doper is gonna remove what little bit of testicles he has left!
Okay, whoa, calm down. Sorry but lately you hear all this stuff about him, about how the boy actually described his penis in correct detail, but they said that wasnt enough eveidence.
I am just really tired of Micheal Jackson, and a little pissed off that he turned a good talent into this disgusting shit.:mad: :mad:
Paper GIRL? Gawd! What’s this world coming to? 
I’d think it’s only a matter of time before somebody posts a rant against rants.
Bah, I spit on you **headchecked ** for posting a post about ranting against rants. I wish I had thought of it first.
Meanwhile, In Other Topical Rants:
Apparently, I signed on for the wrong life. I missed out on having a free foriegn aupair nanny(grandma), fabulous house, a fabulous career and a perfect home like some Home Decorating Magazine along with fabulous friends and something called a social life.
All because the foriegn au pair is not my mother and because I was raised watching and hating the shit-on get shellacked on a regular basis by self-indulgent selfish leeches.
I know two (!) women (both school teachers, incidently) who just blow my mind who have this above situation. I am not sure if I am wildly jealous ( I am, because my own mother and brothers are liabilities, and I am their emotional support.) or outraged because they just seem to give birth to children and leave them for someone else to raise (for free.)
I would like to state that either it is unfucking fair that they are selfish gits and somehow managed to get so far in life not because they are educated, but because they shit on their mothers or it is because I cannot and have no one to subsequently shit on. ( Even if I had the opportunity, I wouldn’t…)
Mom. How could you raise me to be a person of morals. GOD DAMMIT.
To M**k (name asterisked to protect the stupid!),
Yes the SO and I are going through a bad patch right now, its probably the distance, and the fact that when we do see each other we don’t talk as much as we used to, but instead have lots of sex, which whilst fun, isn’t always as emotionally satisfying.
So, when did you decide it would be fun to mess with my head then? When we were in the pub? Before then? So, you caught me unawares and kissed me. We went outside to talk. You told me you love me. I told you what you didn’t want to hear; that the SO and I were going to find a way to work things out. You told me that you’d always be there for me as a friend, and because of the way you felt about me, you were going to get out of a dangerous situation you found yourself in.
You drove me home, all the while telling me that you love me. You said you’d come and find me after I’d finished teaching the next day. You did. You were really nice, you agreed to be friends. You told me you’d come and find me once I’d got back from visiting the SO. (We haven’t managed to work things out totally yet, but we’re working on it). I’ve been back two days, and no sign of you. Colour me cynical, but I get the impression I’m being avoided. What the fuck is wrong with you man??? We were friends before, and you said yourself that you wanted to keep it as just friends, especially because of the situation you’re in. So why the cold shoulder?
There, I feel better now.
Oh, is there a bake sale at work today? I never would have known if you hadn’t fucking carpet-bombed me with emails for the last week. One email to announce the sale is more than sufficient. If you must, one in advance to announce it and one the day of to remind people. But it is not necessary by any stretch of the imagination for people from three different departments to email the entire fucking company, and it is especially unnecessary to send out updates every time you unveil a new treat.