To the new principal of my coworker’s son’s elementary school:
If you want to implement a school uniform policy, how about giving the parents appropriate notice instead of announcing it 23 gorram hours before the start of classes! My coworker is trying to figure out where she’ll get the money to buy new clothes to replace the ones she bought during the tax-free shopping period (which have already been washed and detagged and thus are not exchangeable).
Dumbass. :mad:
The night after attending a good friend’s funeral some motherfucker broke into my goddamn car, smashed a window, stole my mp3 player AND my airbag
That’s $1000 I’ve paid out on insurance excess this year because fucking people won’t stop fucking damaging my car.
I’m also buying an alarm. 
Black Rabbit you rock. My parrot and my finch salutes you 
Dear Ladies I Work Under*:
Go fuck yourselves.
Love, Me
*I am aware that may come across as naughty. However, it’s been made clear to me time and time again that I am but a peon in the great big world. I work under; I do not work with. I get it.
Let’s throw in a rant against ‘right-to-fire for whatever floats your boat’ states, too. I’m dancing on my toes every moment at work, anticipating the final moments. I work for you. I help pull in at least a few hundred dollars daily to line your pockets, and you can’t give me the goddamn honor of being a classified employee, protected from the whims of the boss people. So, fuck you, too.
It’s only as bad as you make it. It’s only as bad as you make it. It’s only as bad as you make it.
threnodyangelfire, LunaV, Honey, Anaamika:
Thank you.
I can’t find my tee-ball sized baseball bat, so when I eventually beat him to death, it’ll be with a clawhammer. Though my wife thinks we should cover him in mice and buy an eagle.
I’m out $500, Geico’s out $1415.
Hoooray crackheads!
Dear Bloodsucking Coworker:
You know that my last day is a week from tomorrow. You also know that instead of the usual 10-15 drawings a day that I approve, I’m up to more like 35/day. This on top of trying to wrap up a few projects. Furthermore, you also know that I am leaving my job to go to school and that my assignments are already up to my ass and the quarter hasn’t even started yet.
Also, you have just gotten a raise and a promotion, while somehow also managing to be late an hour nearly weekly (play the kid card much?). Although you did get a promotion, you are not my fucking boss. Therefore, when I was trying to fix some bullshit piece of machinery (because a firm full of engineers do NOT know how to work a goddamned color printer), it was very inappropriate to sweep by, give me a “SausageCreature I’m not going to be here tomorrow so you have to cover for me kthxbye” and leave me mouth agape. BTW, you are the worst trainer ever. I pity the poor bastard that has to endure trying to train with you while you take personal phone calls and wipe your kid’s pictures in everyone’s face. Congratulations, you have bred. Do you want a fucking award?
More amusing is that our mutual boss had no idea you were planning to take the day off. But the passive-aggressive guy he is, will never say anything about it up front. I wish I were there for the backlash.
So now I get to deal with your bullshit on top of everything else, and God help me if I don’t perform your tasks up to your anal-retentive standard.
Grrrrr.
To my wireless router:
Why the FUCK do you cut out every five fucking minutes? Christ on a fucking shit cracker, you suck more balls than Linda Lovelace! Not to mention the fact that no matter what we do to you or my roommate’s laptop, it can’t recognize your wireless signal!
Sausage, you’re done next week - how is any of this your problem? If you want to leave on a good note, put in eight hours a day, and do good work. That’s all they can expect from someone who is gone in a week (heck, the fact that you’re still showing up puts you ahead of most people who have given their notice).
Lily, me too. I was fuming about something on the way home today, and you think I can still remember it? On the bright side, I’m learning to let things go, I guess.
Well you are taking them to school. I doubt they veiw that as a favor.
Why does everything always have to be so HARD?
And why am I too stupid for it to be easy? I demand a new brain, body, and personality!
Okay I wanted to start a thread about the FUCKING WORTHLESS THIEVES that broke my car window and took my stereo but I think I can just stick it here because I honestly don’t expect too many replies other than a few “that sucks” comments. I’ve never started a pit thread but they scare me because I have a sinking feeling if I DO start one someone will make some nasty little crack about my life and it will make me even sadder. That being said, on with my mini-rant about FUCKED UP WORTHLESS THIEVES:
I am not a wealthy person. I’m nowhere near it. I live well below the poverty level, but I’m okay with that most of the time. I made choices that have nothing to do with dollar signs and I accept that. But I pay my bills. I have been known to beg (as in ask for a friendly loan that I always repay) borrow but never steal.
I don’t have much but I do have a car. It’s not a great car, but it passed inspection and it gets me where I’m going…so maybe it really IS a great car and I love and try to take care of her.
But someone today hurt my baby. They hurt my baby for a cheap ass factory built stereo. A non-working stereo, but I guess they couldn’t know that. These fucked up worthless thieves busted out the passenger window and ripped out the stereo, but it could have been my beating heart. OH YEAH I know it’s just a fucking cheap stereo, but it was also a window, a window I can’t afford to fix for at least a few weeks unless I want to go without dinner. I have insurance but it doesn’t cover this sort of thing. Yes that’s my fault. I know I should get better insurance. But even if I did have the insurance to cover replacing the window it would STILL piss me off and make me hate people a little more. It wouldn’t even be so bad if this wasn’t the seventh time in five years I’ve had to call the police and report a crime involving either my car or my SO’s van. His car was stolen twice; once before he moved in and once a few months ago.
And maybe even still it wouldn’t be so bad if I hadn’t had to call five different numbers totalling fifteen calls to the police department before I GAVE UP for the evening. But any more on this turns into a rant about the police department, and I want to stick to the bastards that broke my baby. I don’t know who they were or what it is in his (or her) life that got them to the point where they had to break other people’s shit to get what they want. I’ve been in some pretty desperate situations myself, but stealing turns a person into less than human.
I mean this is more than me losing a cheap-ass broken stereo and a window…this is about making me scared to live in the city. It’s making me check outside on my car every thirty minutes. It’s making my SO have trouble sleeping because he wants to check out the window every TEN minutes (although it probably wouldn’t help anyway). It’s making me worry and wonder what next? These fucking thieves have stolen our car tags so many times we have to take them off and bring them in every time we get out of the car. They’ve stolen batteries, radios, cds, a CAR SEAT, and taken the whole car (different cars) three times. They’ve broken my windshield trying to wrangle the club loose. They’ve torn up dashboards and ignition switches, pulled out the back seats to get speakers. They’ve ALMOST cost me a ticket for not having a plate but the cop was kind.
I know…I should move right? I know I don’t live in the best part of Memphis. Except it’s happened at work, in a school parking lot in what is seen as a “good” part of town. It’s happened at Kroger in a decent neighborhood. My car tags were stolen once while I took my kid to the fucking EMERGENCY ROOM! I know, my fault that time I failed to remove them while holding a bleeding toddler. I was just asking for it. Bastards.
Maybe I should move out of the city? I don’t know anyone anywhere else though. I wouldn’t even know where to go. I would love to move though, if I could afford to.
I’m just sickened by the whole thing. It makes me regret choices I made when I don’t usually regret them. If I’d done this or that, maybe I wouldn’t have this shit happen. But shit happens to all of us right? It still sucks. I want my window back. I want my cheap ass non-working stereo back. I want my fucking sense of security back.
Holy shit, that was supposed to be a mini-rant! :eek:
Well, you’re right about the ‘that sucks’ comment, but only because there aren’t any better words coming to mind to describe how **MUCH **that sucks.
But it sucks hard, Rushgeekgirl. It really does suck to live in fear, and I hope things improve for you and your SO.
{{{Jodi}}} That same person is why I’ve pretty much quit talking about religion in GD, which is a shame, because I joined this board because of the marvelous debates I found there.
The Sausage Creature, I’m with featherlou. You’re not obligated to do her work and certainly not obligated to make it higher priority than everybody else’s. As for her order to cover for you, is there a chance you could not cover for her and claim you didn’t hear it? I tend not to hear things when I’ve got my arm halfway up the innards of a printer trying to sort it out, not out of malice, but because I’m simply concentrating on what I’m doing. Alternatively, you could also point out that covering for her would reduce the amount of time you spend doing the 100 hour top priority jobs all of which must be done immediately or the company will go bankrupt![/hysteria] :rolleyes:
Speaking of which . . .
I wish my coworkers would understand that I am not a mind reader. If one of them puts two jobs for the same client on my desk while I’m out, the time to tell me they told the client which one I’d do first is before I start work, not when I’m halfway through the other job. If I’m building a program which is supposed to do certain things, don’t wait until after I’ve finished it to tell me that one key part of it is not done to incoming data which meets certain specs. I’m going to have to do a bit of major recoding now.
As for the local head of an organization I belong to, there’s a reason I resigned as secretary of the organization. I am sick and tired of you treating me like an incompetent and trying to tell me how to do my job. You asked me to be secretary as a favor to you. I accepted, against my better judgement. I think you were expecting a lapdog who would do your every whim. Instead, you got an old bitch who will not be subject to constant oversight as if she were an ambitious, eager-to-please 10 year old. Among the more petty things, I am not changing a reference to “old members” to “more senior members” for two reasons: first, it’s not what was said; second, it’s a ridiculous bit of political correctness. I spoke to other board members after my resignation. They do understand why I did it, even though they wish I hadn’t.
Sigh! I do believe I can face the last day of the work week now.
Here’s to the moron from our local chapter of ABATE (the letters actually stand for Motocycle Riders Who Don’t Wanna Wear Helmets And You Can’t Make Us) who wrote a letter published in our local paper today. Its gems include:
You wouldn’t tell a skydiver how to pack his parachute, would you? (no, but it’s sort of a good idea that he has one).
People in cars suffer more serious head injuries than motorcycle riders, so if you’re gonna make us wear helmets, they should have to as well (well, uh, apart from the fact that cars have roofs, seat belts, air bags and other safety features, do you think that the greater number of injuries in cars has something to do with the fact that there so many more cars than motorcycles?).
Your letter is proof that one can manifest symptoms of brain damage even before getting into a motorbike crash.
Perspective on the situation from an E.R. doc, including the fact that a motorbike rider is 34 times more likely to die in a crash than someone in a car.
Pssst. darling husband, if you send me flowers for yelling too much and stressing everyone out and you YELL because the flowers weren’t delivered on time, you just defeated the purpose. No, I don’t forgive you.
Pediatrician Update:
Yes, hes still coughing. Yes, I’ve given him the Anti-biotics; today is day 4. The school won’t let him back w/o a note & the Health Dept is now involved. So exactly, WTF do you Mean by telling me “Well, it might not ever have been Whooping Cough at all”? Are you trying to tell me that I could have been at the office instead of running the House of Plague for the past 3 days…? That my son could have been in school learning instead of falling a week behind his studies? Not that it matters to you; you’re now billing 3 visits to my insurance and $75 in under-the-table copay cash that I’d go double or nothing will sit in a shoe box on you closet before you ever pay a dime in taxes on it…and you can’t be bothered to even take a OgDamned throat culture?
Pediatricians: Not taking kid’s Fathers seriously since before there were Medical Boards…
I spent over half the day at work yesterday sniffling back tears of frustration…but after reading what you guys have posted, I don’t feel qualified to complain. I mean, dang, y’all.
Auburn Football.
Most of my family lives about 50 miles from me. To celebrate my birthday on Saturday, we’re getting together at a restaurant halfway between. And because my parents are in their seventies, “dinner” will be about 3 pm. OK fine. Then Mom calls and says we have to move the dinner to lunch. Restaurant isn’t open for lunch and Sister refuses to enter your house when you’re in manic mode, so that’s out. All because Auburn plays at 2:30. OK we’ll just eat dinner at 7, like normal people. Nope. Alabama’s playing then.
Screw it. Just mail the gifts.
Thanks for the support, **featherlou **and Siege.
I found out today that coworker was gone to see Toby Keith. :rolleyes: She’d been talking about it for ages (without specifying a date), but somehow only managed to officially inform everyone the day before. Our boss came in today to ask if I was going to go sit in her area and I told him no; I’d work only on emergency releases. What’s he going to do, fire me? Anyways, all the “hot” items turned out not to be so hot after all, I wrapped up a project this afternoon, and everything turned out fine.
I laugh at the giant pile waiting for coworker on Monday, though.
Stop stealing sweat towels at the gym.
Stop pissing in the gang shower at the gym.
Stop shaving your junk in the goddamned gang shower at the gym.
Stop shaving anything in the goddamned fucking steam room in the men’s shower. At the gym.
I have confronted and told on each of you in the past but if I catch you again I’m not above teabagging your belongings (while you’re stealing/pissing/shaving your cock in public) and setting fire to them in the Alpine Bank parking lot. You have been warned.