It’s been like living on the surface of the sun. 35C is just too fucking hot to do anything and for those who are metrically challenged the conversion is: C times 9 divided by 5 plus 32. I must apologize to David Suzuki for anything nasty I said in the past as his theories on global warming may indeed be correct. Mind you, the next person who comes up to me and says “Is it hot enough for ya” is risking life and fucking limb.
Did I mention that we’ve had no rain? The fifteen minute shower we had yesterday was just enough to make it hot AND humid.
Are there goblins living under our house? I am sure we cleaned up yesterday but you would never know it. I think they come out after everyone’s asleep, party it up, and leave crap everywhere.
To the fucknugget in the truck who rode my ass and couldn’t keep his hands off the horn yesterday… thank whatever gods you pray to that I am usually a pacifist and was unwilling to step out of my air conditioned van to brave the aforementioned heat to kick your inconsiderate ass. The sign said “STOP” and I am in the habit of looking in both directions before proceeding.
It’s payday, which for some may be their favourite day of the month but for me it’s the day I decide which bills get paid and which ones don’t. Bill roulette is what it is. It might be a little better if we get that raise we were promised but it’s been six months and we’re still waiting for the bean-counters to figure out the details.
Hayfever… nuff said.
This just in, the woman just got her student loan approved. It would seem she is getting enough for tuition but not enough to cover the books. Good idea there… send the tuition money for September and send the book money in February. The goddess thinks that the reason she is getting $6000 less might be due to the fact we went into debt to buy our new van. It makes sense doesn’t it?
Finally, this might be my last post for a little while as it would appear I am developing a really good case of carpal tunnel syndrome and no… it isn’t from masturbating like a frenzied chimp. Perhaps it has been the massive amount of paperwork I’ve had to do at work lately.
Other than this… life is really good. I might even get to spend a little more “quality” time with the woman later this afternoon when the girls are at the sitters.
can we add our own misc. rants in here?
sounds like a great way to just blow off some steam without getting into a great debate over the smallest little whine.
Yeah . . . This isn’t worth a whole thread, but why is the goddam fall clothing out in the stores when it’s goddam June 28, and I am looking for a summer dress?! I know all about the clothing biz—I worked in the gommint district for years and work for a magazine that is now shooting fashion for our October issue. But, sonofabitch, the only summer clothes left in Lord & Taylor’s was a sales rack of what looked to be Chuckles the Clown pants and shirts that looked like Richard Simmons exploded on them.
Iteki - Welcome to the asylum. We can always use more Swedes here. Rant away to your hearts content but don’t say anything bad about those Norwegians.
This would be the place for small whines.
I have to say that “skank ass hot” is a perfectly apt description of our weather here.
I thought I would let y’all know that typing and surfing the net have almost become a one handed adventure for me. It’s a good thing I am ambidextrous for most things so if I do get the urge to masturbate like a frenzied chimp I’m still okay…
It seems that the SIL’s car needs some more repairs… you would think that replacing the clutch and the radiator to the tune of $1000.00 would be enough but NOOOOOOOOOOO… it would appear that the water pump is on it’s way out. So much for the rest of my weekend off.
Eve… you have my sympathies although the visual of you walking around in an outfit designed by Chuckles and Simmons is hellishly amusing.
…I am a very peaceful person but I could be close to manic slaughter. Why are there so many thousands of people who cannot, cannot, can just not understand that if they stand in a door way, they are obstructing it for everyone else? Classic example: a busy department store. Dunkwit From Planet Drongo makes to leave store, decides to have a little think about what to do next, and stands there right in the door way, oblivious to the fact that this means other people can’t get in or out. So I have to say, " 'Scuse me" or similar, and then they wake up to reality and shift themselves. Which part of this situation is hard for their brains to understand?
Happens everywhere. Stores, the subway, offices… you name it. " 'Scuse me" 'Scuse me"" 'Scuse me". Some people seem unaware of any atom in the universe beyond their own skin. It’s a small sin, but cumatively the annoyance is enough to make me teach them a lesson with surgical gloves and a red hot poker.
Today I was making a left hand turn, out of a parking lot, onto a busy street. I hate doing this, but I had no choice. There is no sign or street markings indicating that it is a “right turn only”. Besides, I make this turn every day, I’m well aware of the rules governing it.
I sit there, with plenty of room on my right for people to make a right hand turn. It usually takes 2-3 minutes for an opening for me to turn. I don’t mind the wait.
Then someone pulls behind me and just lays on the horn.
Look you fucknugget, there was no reason for you to honk at me! You could get around me to turn right! I know yo ucould, because someone did it while you were honking at me! SO WHY THE FUCK WERE YOU HONKING!
Motherfucker, stupid, shit-for-brains asshole. I wasn’t doing anything wrong or illegal, so what the fuck is your problem? I’m not talking a few “beep-beeps”, he was hitting it often and hard.
Fucker.
My minor rant, saved from being a major one by the fact there was no damage to my car:
A hearty fuck you to the dickhead who rear-ended me in the left turn lane last night. Yes, I pulled forward as if to make my turn; as most people do when the light turns green. But, no, I didn’t actually make the turn right then because I had to wait for oncoming traffic to clear. But you, blessed with the visual acuity of Ray Charles, banged into me anyway – and then had the balls to tell me it was my fault because I hadn’t turned as you wrongly expected me to. This led to me screaming at you in the intersection (“You just fucking rear-ended me! Don’t fucking criticize my fucking driving!”) in a manner that (my board behavior notwithstanding) I usually don’t do, because my mama raised me to be a lady.
So you ruined my night by making me mad at you for hitting me and mad at myself for totally losing my temper. You’re just lucky you didn’t actually damage the car (beyond a smear of paint); if you’d tried to blame me for it then, I’d have ripped the bumper off and beaten you to death with it.
what the fuck is up with these goddamn bowling alleys? “Sorry, cant have a lane for about 5 months. All reserved for leagues”. Okay, I know that leagues are your bread-and-butter, and you have to cater to them. Did you ever stop to think that holding lanes 3 hours before they are schedualed to show up costs you business? No wonder no one other than league losers ever bowl! No one else can get a fucking lane!
No time to finish this half-assed rant. Im going home to enjoy a real life.
Fucking without coming is like Orange Juice without oranges or juice.
Paper delivery is my job, ma’m. It’s what I do. Now, unlike some paper carriers, I do NOT mind dealing with flowers, rubberbanding AND bagging per customer request, dashing up someone’s walk in the rain, putting a newspaper in a little black or green or wooden box next to the door, putting the damn thing between the screen and the door, using a newspaper office-sanctioned paperbox discreetly placed in the midst of a patch of poison ivy, whatever. I’m pretty easy-going, I enjoy my job, I like to make people’s lives a little easier in the morning.
However. When you peek out your door, and find that your paper is not, as usual, on your doormat but on the FIRST STEP, please, PLEASE do not call my boss and report your paper missing. Because then I get a complaint message, which is not a big deal except that it bugs me because I DIDN’T MISS YOU AT ALL. It’s RIGHT THERE. Just BEND.
So Slip… does that mean I win the West vs East tourney by default?
I was out on the range the other day and discovered that not only can I crank them out a country mile right handed, I can also do the same with my left. If it wasn’t for the buggered wrist I would have been hitting a lot more. Of course, I have no idea if I can still putt as it has been about seven years since I played a round.
BTW… It’s good to see you. Hopefully you’ll change your mind on the whole golf thing… hitting 122 isn’t that bad.
Another small rant-- If you buy a new TV, for the love of ghod PLEASE be prepared to read at least a little of the manual, okay? DON’T load it up in the car and bring it back 'cause someone sat on the remote and you can’t figure out how to get out of text captioning mode. Not that you had any idea what the problem was. “The screen goes blank,” you said.
“You have no picture onscreen at all?” I ask. “There’s this big black rectangle that shows up sometimes, I’m tired of hitting the remote to make it go away.”
Yes, I will patiently explain to you what’s going on-- hell, I’ll even open up a new one so I can show you the FUCKING PAGE IN THE MANUAL that would have let you stay at home and enjoy your new TV in private. Yes, I’ll be polite and helpful, I do this for a living after all. And yes, I’ll even let you exchange it for a new one anyways, it’s worth the loss for the good word-of-mouth, and since I DID just humiliate you in front of your girlfriend…
…But ghod help you if you ever buy anything so complicated as a DVD player. Yer on yer own, Bucko. I’m through with you.
Bodypoet, would you consider taking over the Washington Post route in my neighborhood? Our delivery guy apparently thinks it’s too much bother to ever get out of his goddamned car or even to slow down while he’s tossing them, and my paper always ends up at the very end of the driveway, about 20 feet from the house; sometimes it’s actually IN THE FUCKING STREET!! Lazy-assed bastard!
To the guy in the cube next to me at work: I know that you’re an attention whore, but could you please stop laughing like a crack-addled hyena at every 15 minutes? We have some fun in our office, but nothing is that fucking funny!
Alexandra - How did I forget to mention one of my top peves of the week? Yep… no fireworks for Canada Day since this place is like a tinderbox just waiting for a spark. My kids are going to be so disappointed.
