You know what Norton? It’s great that you’re stopping all of these recent “intrusions”, but I don’t need you to tell me every time. You always come to tell me at the worst time. Browsing through the Favorites. Oh, look! Instead of ending up on Wikipedia, I’m on the Weather Network’s website for the tenth time today because you can’t keep your mouth shut. You show up when I’m typing, too. Next thing I know, the last paragraph is not there because I thought I had typed it, but you took all focus away from what I actually wanted to do. In conclusion, kindly shut up.
I have trouble typing stuff that makes sense right now cause I just took a giant ibuprofen pill for my headache, and also for the cramps due to my “monthly visitor,” which just arrived this morning.
I have a cold that won’t go away.
It’s hot. I’m sweaty.
I had to yell at a marauding band of asshole kids at the lake park yesterday for throwing rocks at ducks for the express purpose of hurting them and succeeding. I yelled loud enough for the entire park to turn around to see, yet these punk ass kids had no parents anywhere in sight. They ran away until I turned my back, then came right back and picked up where they left off. The guy in the office/store said he’d sick the ranger on ‘em, but that never happened. Assholes. The kids thought it was hilarious that anyone would dare yell at them.
Oh yes, these are the same little bastards that saw my husband walking back to our chairs with a bag of chips and said, "Hey! Mistuh! Gimme some o’ those chips!" My husband just laughed at them because he was so weirded out by it. All 15 of them or so (ages maybe 8-12) then followed him with their foul little mouths going on about what a greedy fatass he was.
Who raises humans to behave this way?! Seriously, a pack of wolves would have been more manageable and less infuriating.
He gave me his account number but it would not come up. I called customer service and they could not pull it up, either. According to this dipshit, his financial institution told him that they opened a trouble ticket with our IT department and “we’re supposed to fix it” :dubious: . Since I had been taking calls all day long from people with this type of account and all of them have been coming up, I seriously doubt it’s an IT issue. In any case, I have a feeling he hassled someone at his financial institution and she made up a bogus story about their company contacting our company’s IT department just to get rid of him. Unless there is a system-wide outage, IT does not get involved with problems concerning individual users.
I called our internal support desk and was told, “sorry, if we can’t access his account there’s nothing we can do; tell him to call his financial institution.” I went back to the moron and told him that we can’t do anything until his financial institution straightens out the problem. He insisted that they’ve done their job and it’s up to us to get his account information so he can book a flight today. He was not going to take no for an answer and he was not about to give up, so I went back to the help desk (who also handles escalations) and let them attempt to pacify his whiny ass.
People like this really need to be strapped to a chair and then slapped a couple of dozen times.
But a lot of them do put the baby in the back and the whole versatility thing is supposed to be a selling point…seriously, one hour with a baby is completely different than four hours and showing up drunk. Especially with a username like Morbo, it’s lucky the baby wasn’t made into Slurm!
Really? I thought the baby back-packs had to have a frame, so the kid wouldn’t suffocate (or something). Caring for little kids always seems to have more rules than I expect, which is why I’m still a little boggled that poster’s deeply uncool “friend” left an infant with him/her.
Anyway, on to my rant(s)…Clean the kitchen when you cook, roomie o’mine, or you are going to be on the receiving end of a very stern talk!
And self, either stop eating or start exercising. Failure to do both is about to land us in the fat lady’s department at Macy’s. Moo.
Really? When you say ‘Everyone was disappointed’ and I respond by saying I was disappointed, too, maybe it -isn’t- ‘just my depression’. I’m sick of any negative emotion I have being discounted because I have depression. I -do- have real, honest-to-Og emotions! Grr.
There’s a chart here showing almost all the styles allow for a back carry with the baby sitting upright and facing the wearer. I ran across a better link while looking into baby carriers a while back and now of course I can’t find it.
All the baby gear options and rules are confusing as hell to me, I’m starting to think that a lot of it is assumed knowledge that people either get growing up in multi-child families, or because they’re someone who has “always known [they] wanted to be a mommy/daddy” or something. I had no idea strawberries, honey, cheese, nuts are all supposed to be no-nos for babies/nursing baby-handling mommies. At least according to some.
Like you say, there’s lots of unexpected rules and such, it’s easy to put a foot in. So I guess that’s my mini-pitting. WTH with all the baby gear? And baby hot button issues? Holy cow. Where did my old friends go? Their avatars online change from happy smiling person on a mountaintop to serious glamor wedding shot to the ghostly fetal silhouettes of sonogram images and then they disappear entirely. Babies consume people, bigtime.
Although, really, baby-brained is better that than those parents that drop a kid and don’t let it stop their party lifestyle at all. It is after all, a nascent human being being molded into hopefully a productive member of society, a fascinating process and well worth the effort, no doubt. So I applaud the effort and can sympathise (a bit) with the touchiness, since truly, you never can please all people at all times. Just please, really, when it’s time to change a dirty diaper, please go somewhere else than within 5 feet of a food plate. It may be the output of the center of your world, but it’s still fecal matter to me and I’d rather not see it or smell it. I don’t have the biochemical responses you have to it and I’m just grossed out by you both right now.
This. I am sick to HERE of this. You’re damn right. Every time I have a fit about something, it couldn’t possibly be because there’s something legit to have a fit about. Oh, you’d like an example? I’ll give you two. They both involve…wait for it…POOP!
Last week, on the way home from our fireworks show in the middle of nowhere, we stopped at McDonald’s for a snack. I turn around while we wait for our soft serves, and what do I see? Some…dude. Changing a baby. ON THE TABLE. IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RESTAURANT. I am not making this up. It gets better. When he finished wrapping his spawn up, he moved to a table across the aisle and proceeded to chow down like nothing happened. No hand washing, either. I didn’t even know what to say about that, it was so far out of the realm of acceptability, I just looked like this ----> :eek:
Nobody else seemed to think it was quite as big a deal as I did, which makes me think I’m out of my mind for even letting it register on my radar.
The other one was last evening at the track. My husband, roommate and I have taken up running, and since I’ve been sick, I’ve been walking. So we go to the track to more easily keep track of distance and still be all in the general same place. Near the end of our time there, it was cooling off so more people started to show up. I came along the side of the track close to where people enter, and suddenly, there’s a train of monster dog crap. Right in the middle of the track. I look around for the culprit, and what do I see, but a huge German shepherd walking along with some people who had just gotten there.
By the time I got to that side of the track again, this enormous dog was being handled by a little girl maybe ten years old and small enough so that a stiff wind could blow her over. I said hi to the pretty dog, and then began to address the girl about the poop. I was NICE. And POLITE. Before I finished my sentence, I was interrupted by her moron father telling me that Godzillahound bites. No problem sez I, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to approach him without permission, but hey, could you please clean up the poop on the track?
Guess at his response?
Moron Father: “Wasn’t my dog.”
Me: “Ok, well, yours is the only dog that’s been here in an hour, the size fits, and it’s only been here five minutes or so, so could you please get that log train removed before someone steps in it? Thanks.”
MF: “Well, I don’t think it was mine, but I’ll ask my daughter.”
Me: :dubious:
MF:“OK! If it was my dog, I’ll have her clean it up!”
I was pissed about two things. One, that it seemed perfectly acceptable to this man and his brood that his dog should foul a park track and they not have the goddamn courtesy to remove it like civilized people, and two, that he lie to me with attitude about it. Nothing would have been done had I not embarassed him into action. I stayed irritated about it for a good half hour after we left, and according to my companions, I’m just being unreasonable to be that pissed.
I’ve been told recently that I expect too much of people. My level of irritation in situations like these is off the charts according to some, and that’s because I have depression.
Ooh. Maybe that’s why I can’t seem to keep a mini rant mini, eh? :smack:
Hi, boys and girls! Say, what kind of job could you get where your clients can call you over and over and over, say, every day for two weeks, and if you don’t call them back, you won’t get fired for it? If the client comes into the office finally, to speak to you in person because you won’t call her back, you can even lie and say, “Oh, I’ve been returning your calls- I just haven’t been leaving messages.” You can repeat this scenario ad infinitum, and nobody gets in trouble! Where, oh where, you say, can *I *get a job like that? Because at our jobs, if we don’t call people back over weeks and weeks, we’ll get fired, right?
It’s the US Government, kids! Become a Social Security case manager today! Then you will never have to call anyone back, and you’ll never get in trouble, either!
My middle-aged childless aunt is trying to make trouble on Facebook. Get a job! Get a hobby!
Your niece’s husband defriending you is no reason for two petulant status updates and a provocative email. Yes, feel free to stop emailing to invite him to family gatherings two states away. No, you shouldn’t re-draw your will. Why is he in there, anyhow? There are plenty of relatives that outrank him, including your husband and 3 siblings, let alone your 14 nieces and nephews, are you really that wealthy that your estate can be split 18+ ways and have it matter to any of us?
Nothing I can say will make any difference, so I tell the Dope.
My husband doesn’t have to be your Facebook friend.
Let it go.
I saw a policeman shoot and kill someone on Tuesday. I spent the next two days having constant flashbacks.
I finally got it out of my system and started getting some work done again. This afternoon the police finally called to take my statement, and now I’m back on instant replay. This sucks.
I pit my selfish, crazy niece and her clueless parents, who let her run up a long distance phone bill of almost a thousand dollars. My SIL then went off the deep end and cancelled the long distance service for everyone in the household. Niece refuses to pay for any portion of the bill she incurred until they get the LD service put on again…but she has no job, so no money is forthcoming–except from her folks, who keep handing it to her as they have been for years. And they kept letting her get away with crap like this for 19 years, so this is the comeuppance.
I pit a friend of mine for letting herself get so out of shape that her ankles now look like an elephant’s legs. She thinks it isn’t a problem because they don’t hurt. I told her that heart conditions and other possible causes don’t always cause pain initially. She says she’ll see a doctor, but I doubt she will. I’m sure she doesn’t want the co pays, but she has six figures in the bank yet lives like a pauper.
And I pit my mom’s friend’s son, who is in his sixties and still can’t figure out why he can’t find a woman to date. Um, let’s see…Maybe it’s because he’s rude and abrupt? Disrespectful to his mom? Has made it clear that he’s waiting for her to die so he can get all her assets? Is lazy? Refuses to get his gigantic inguinal hernia–the size of a frakking BASKETBALL–fixed because he “doesn’t believe in doctors” ? (Seriously, you folks should see this thing. It’s visible under his custom-made pants. His ball sack hangs down and sticks out like he’s got a big lumpy parasitic creature clinging to his thigh.)
