A nice hearty FUCK YOU to the idiot co-worker. Listen up, fuckface: When i am in pain/sick, i have a high tolerance of it. I don’t utter a freaking peep, and if i am extra miserable, i don’t hang around people if i know i will bring the mood down.
Who in the fucking holy hell do you think you are, you asked me: “how are you?” (with that fake concern frown of your ugly mug) i answered with a simple “I am sick/ aching” , you feel all high and mighty and answer me back with “Live with it, don’t whine about it”
Why the fuck is a crackhead going through shit on my porch in broad fucking daylight? And then pretending she rang the doorbell to ask if she could have MY STUFF? And then trying to stare me the fuck down? “I ain’t gonna take nothin’…” Yeah, because I caught your ass! And I hope you’re enjoying your chat with the cops - I told them what you’re wearing, where you’re heading, and that I think you’re the same crackhead that my boyfriend had to chase out of his car with a 7 iron.
Stupid damn p-birds (not ptarmigan, nor pheasant, but some stupid little american prairie chicken-type bird whose species name starts with a P) who insist on sitting in the middle of the fucking highway at dawn, and not flying away until a split second before I smash you with my car. I killed four of you this morning, thus possibly depriving the local coyotes of a mid-winter meal.
I don’t WANT to kill you, but if you insist, please die for a reason. Breaking my windshield doesn’t fucking count as a valid reason, unless you have some weird avian mafia connection to the local windshield replacer guy. Your “sacrifice” reduces my winter birdfood budget.
Go harass the coyote lurking in my lilacs instead. He’s young and dumb, and could use those calories you wasted by becoming a Sail-critter.
BTW – $400+ to replace the windshield could have bought 7 metric buttloads of P-bird food, and adding windshield replacement to my insurance policy reduced the p-bird food budget even further.
Stay off of the paved road, dumbass.
(seriously – what the fuck is the proper name for those miserable little bastards? Ground birds, American prairie, starts with a P. I’m totally blank – best I can up with is Danny-somethings, which isn’t even close, and makes no sense at all.)
Yesterday I took one of my two male kittens to the vet to be neutered. I was supposed to take both of them, but when I tried to put Rascal in the carrier he ran to the bedroom and hid in the bed. Not under, but in; my older cat had previously torn a hole in the lining to the box spring, and now the cats can use that to crawl up into the box springs.
Anyway, I finally had to give up on trying to get Rascal out if I was going to get Mischief to the vet in time. Picked Mischief up yesterday afternoon, surgery went fine and he seems to be doing okay. Except now Rascal keeps growling and hissing at him like he’s a stranger. They’re brothers and have been living together with me for the last five months; why this sudden animosity? Does neutering change the way a cat smells or something?
Next week Rascal will be going in for his surgery (this time I’m going to close the bedroom door before I try to put him in the carrier). I’m wondering what things will be like here when I bring him home.
Is it really that hard to fill out a form legibly? Have people forgotten what that word means? Plain writing is legible. Block letters are legible. Loopy calligraphy is not legible. Chickenscratch is not legible. Take the time to make things readable when you write and maybe your information won’t be lost, assholes!
And fill out the entire form. Leaving random sections out doesn’t help when we’re trying to figure out what you want.
My university doesn’t have a centralized graduate assistantship database.
My department doesn’t do assistantships for Masters students.
I’m being as fucking proactive as I possibly fucking can when the assistantship postings are scattered like birdshot all over the fucking website, and when one finally comes through the department pipeline, it looked perfect for me. It wanted skills in all of the unrelated areas that I have training in. The deadline’s not till Friday.
Fuck the administrative division for filling it before the deadline and not even reviewing my fucking application.
Fuck my department for not even saying “Well, we don’t offer assistantships with department funds, but we’ll make it a little easier on you by trolling the website for birdshot and including some of the links in the weekly emails with all the ice cream socials and barbeques.”
Fuck my school for making finding an assistantship like herding cats, but harder. I’m trying to fucking prove myself here.
Partridge? That was my first thought, and the Danny-something confirmed it.
I feel ya on this – I am the goddess of bird suicides. It’s not just one species, though. Seriously, in one week, I ran over 3 blackbirds, 1 robin and 1 cute little blue bird (not a bluebird, but it was blue, like a turquoise blue, very pretty). I have them actually fly directly into my wheels as I drive along or they just never fly off and I actually run over them. It’s the damnedest thing!
I started a new job on Monday. I hate starting new jobs. It especially sucks this time around because I am REALLY FUCKING SICK. Like, really, really, REALLY sick. But you can’t call in sick on your second day of work. And I just want to put my head down and my desk and cry.
Health Partners… you suck.
For how many years have I gone to the same clinic? Eons. Before y’all switched to your Tier 1 / Tier 2 coverage crap - Tier 1 has a $10 copay and almost 100% coverage, the other has a $25 copay and 50-80% coverage.
My clinic has been Tier 1 since you started this crap. I pay my co-pay, life is good.
Hold up, why am I now getting a bill for a larger co-pay? You say my clinic is now Tier 2 for most services? Since when? You don’t know? Why wasn’t I notified? You have no clue about that either? You have no idea HOW much I will now have to pay out of pocket for the surgery I just had, which under Tier 1 would have been completely covered?
Uh, yeah, I DO want to file a complaint. When 99% of my visits are now Tier 2, with crap coverage, and I’m not notified of the change of benefits, damn right I’m pissed.
Call my clinics business office - let them know I’m not purposely being delinquent, but rather I’m irate at my insurance that I pay a shitload per month to have. Discovered MANY people with Health Partners are complaining about the unannounced change up. Grr.
I think an idiot on another message board is trying to mess with my marriage. Not cool, dude. It’s not working of course, because I’m not as stupid as he is, but the fact that he’s trying - that’s getting close to inexcusable. Debating and trading insults and verbal parrying is one thing; trying to hurt another person in real life is another.
THANK YOU!!eleventy!! 2 more this morning, damn it.
I wouldn’t lose any sleep over splatting that damn pheasant, but he stays off the road. However, the partridges have never attacked me, so I feel bad when they become sail-birds, even when I don’t have to buy a new windshield.
How did “Danny” confirm it? I’m missing something here.
ETA – I would know a fucking peacock, and if there was one in the area, I’d probably be asking for recipes. They tend to be just a tad bit noisy, and I have a shotgun.
Ooh, I love chukkers. I can’t spell them, and didn’t know they were a member of the partridge family (oh. I just now “got” Danny. Duh. I’m a dumbass.) but they’re pretty and funny.
Oops. This this Pit. Okay – I really hate stupid fucking bad cooks and customers with lame tastebuds who think Taco Bell is exotic cuisine. I’m hungry, with a dead stove, and it will take 22 days for the parts to be delivered. Arggggh!
It appears I can’t make an appointment to see the optrometrist without a referral-letter (from my GP, presumably). Why? My optician told me to see the specialist becaue he thinks I might need prisms in my glasses, and he wasn’t feeling comfortable enough to muck about with my eyes himself. Which I really do appreciate. My sight’s bad enough that I don’t want others’ mistakes to worsen them further.
But why do I need a referral to get into hospital?
And I don’t like my eyes much either right now for making me jump through these hoops just to accomodate them. Just work already! (A plea 21 years late, I know.)
