Dear hotelier:
If I make a reservation with your hotel, and you actually call my house to inform me that there are no rooms available, don’t turn around and charge my credit card for the stay. Just don’t.
Grr.
Holy shit! The proper response from the hotel would be to apologize that they overbooked and put you up in another hotel for the night at their cost. Of course, you won’t find out until you try to check in but at least you get a comp night out of the deal.
Speaking of hotel rants, from the other side of the desk:
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When we tell you we are sold out, we are sold out. It is our job to sell you a room and if all we have left is the $5000 a night Presidential Suite we will offer it to you. And if you try to pull some stupid, “If the President called would you have a room?” shit don’t get upset when I ask how you staying with us would equal the publicity of having a Presidential stay (never actually said but sometimes I would really like to.)
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Don’t call us the day of your arrival and say that you want to cancel without paying the cancellation penalty because you would rather stay at the Hilton. We agreed to hold the room for you and you agreed to pay a penalty if you cancelled after a certain date. If you want to stay at the Hilton I guess it will cost you an extra $350, idiot.
You motherfucking clouds. Why is it that on the three or four days every year that a fighter plane from Crane (Surface Warfare Center) flies over my house, you’re always in the way so I can’t see it?
Nothing is more frustrating than hearing the sound of a badass fighter jet and not being able to see it because of the cocksucking clouds. FUCK OFF!
Dear Sister,
I love you. Sometimes I wish I could be as wild and flamboyant and wonderful as you.
But DAMN sister, you get crazy when you drink.
And you give the not-a-boyfriend a hard time, which makes him uncomfortable. And even though you sat in his lap (and no, she wasn’t doing it like that, she was doing it to be silly) he still likes me better. 
She actually brought her first-date guy by the bar I was at so I could size him up. She respects my judgment, and I like him. He’s good for her.
But Jaeger, and beer, and general craziness make you hard for me to deal with after a long day at work, when NAB and I just wanted to hang out and play darts.
I do love her. It’s a very mini rant. (She does tend to lecture my NAB that “if he wants to play [her] big brother, he needs to do it in every way” - ie, really be my boyfriend. He’s going through some stuff, I leave him alone about it.)
Tangentially (having nothing to do with a rant, mini-or-otherwise), I had a NAB for two years; I, too, left him alone about it, until I sensed that he was ready to be bugged about it (by me); I had to bug him (gently, gently, and always with humor) for a year. We’ve now been married more than 18 years and have three kids. I love him more now than I ever have.
Okay, okay, I know that was entirely too sappy for the Pit. My apologies.
I don’t think any of these have been covered yet. . .
-The Nextel-style “push to talk” cell phones. My wonderful neighbors two doors down feel the need to use this on their front porch at all hours of the day. I already don’t like you for being loud, obnoxious asshats. Please don’t add the most annoying sound known to man.
-People who feel ok justifying how teachers have a lower salary than typical professionals because “you have your summers off.” Thanks ass, I’ll be sure to remember that I have less than 2 months break in the heat of the summer, during which I’m still expected to take part in professional development opportunities when I’m working 10 hour days between school and home during the year.
-People who expect that just because you’re married, you should start popping out babies soon, or at least have plans to pop out babies. No, we don’t want kids. No, we probably won’t change our minds. Please stop asking.
i apologize if this has been ranted about already. but it never hurts to give something a second go -
you know that song “blackbird” by the beatles? i dont know if it is mccartney or lennon. either way - i love that song! the first two stanzas are great, involving lyrics like ‘take these broken wings and learn to fly,’ and ‘take these sunken eyes and learn to see’
so far so great!
but then, instead of singing on about more blackbird parts, he goes on to sing the word ‘blackbird’ about ten times, and then just repeats the part about broken wings! there is some chirping in the background (ostensibly blackbird, i would assume) and then the song is over.
WTF???
i’m sorry, you might be worshipped all the great world over as a terrific A-1 lyricist and songwriter, but if you cant come up with more than two parts of a bird that you can write a song about, well, that is just sad.
it makes me angry because what is a** good** song, could have been an outrageously terrific song, if he had just gone a little farther with the ortho-anatomy.
to wit:
take these busted legs and learn to hop about on statues.
take that broken beak and learn to dig up worms.
take that shoddy nest and raise your babies in my chimney.
take those rain-soaked feathers and go sit under a hair dryer.
i mean, seriously. if i can do it, why couldnt you? it’s such a** pretty** song, i want it to go on and on and on, but no. you had to end it after two stanzas.
fucker.
I’m not sure if you’re being serious or not, but these lines made me snort out loud (and made me want to tell someone to go sit under a hair dryer). 
I would like to pit my body, which cannot stay up late any more. I was up until 2:00 am (or 2:30; too late, anyway), and I feel like death on toast this morning. Bleah. :mad: 
You know how in 2000, it seems like Song 2 from Blur (the “Woo-Hoo Song”, as it’s otherwise known) was used as the background music in what seemed like every other commercial?
Well, now, during practically every commercial break on television, I hear the “Feel the rain on your skin” song at least once, if not more. Fucking drives me nuts.
I just have to add that a guy I knew argued that teachers shouldn’t be paid good salaries because he didn’t want people going into it for the money. He wanted them to go into it for the* sole* altruistic desire to help kids. :rolleyes:
Sometime last night, the neighborhood woodchuck chewed up all my sunflowers. I’m a peaceable sort, and kind to animals, but I would like to get an opportunity to see how far I could punt a groundhog.
No, we’re not going to refund your money after you’ve been here for over two hours. No, we don’t give a shit that you drove three hours to ride that ride. It’s closed down because were having technical problems with it. Suck it up.
Sure, sure you were going to shoot some photos for JC Pennys. No, you’re going to have to go through our media department. (Why you think we’d fall for the story of an article for a friggin catalog, is beyond me.)
Yes, we know you’re trying to get something for free. And no, the forty-eight bucks you paid for general admission is NOT a year’s membership. If you’re going to try and scam us, please, please, learn how to run a coherant scam.
And no, no this particular ride was so NOT on our website. I think we know our own website, dumbass.
Sorry, Mother, it’s not my fault you forgot your password. No, I do not know how to look it up-ask at work. I don’t use IE, so I have no clue how it would work-that’s YOUR responsibility to know how your school’s password and such works. No, I’m not trying to be nasty and lazy.
Unfortunately, no I’m not… the insurgence of Christmas stuff is already starting. Now, I do make allowances for craft stores getting in the Christmas craft stuff on the shelves this early in the year, because if you’re making something elaborate from scratch it takes awhile. But lights? Decorations? NOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Dear Mom,
All your health problems stem from the fact that you are fat. You are at least a hundred pounds overweight. That’s why you have diabetes. That’s why you have hemmorioids. That’s why you’re on oxygen. Stop complaining about your health while stuffing yourself with junk food. Three doctors have told you this. I would also appreciate it if 95% of your conversations weren’t melodramatic speeches about the Latest Awful Thing That Happened To You. You are not going to die immediately if someone doesn’t tend to your most immediate whine over nothing at all within the next five seconds.
You’re turning into Grandma Ida. If life sucks so much just shoot yourself and be done with it.
Sincerely,
I Will Go Crazy If I have to Listen to You Anymore and No I’m Not Apologizing For What I Said Today
To the jackass that dumped the mattress and box springs in my yard: Thank you sooo much for the present. Since special arrangements have to be made to have large items collected, you just dumped it in *my *yard. Conveniently next to the street, so that, maybe, if the garbage collector is so inclined, they might possibly pick it up. Or not. Either way, it’s not in *your *yard. Goat-felching asshole.
To my neighbors: I do not appreciate being woken up on a Friday night to pretty flickering lights that make it look like your house is on fire. Was your house on fire? No, you were burning something in your Weber with leaping 3 foot flames, right next to your Og-damned house, right next to the baby’s room. I should have called 911 and told them that your house was on fire. What the hell do you think you’re doing, burning things like that in the summer? It’s not safe just because it’s in your pathetic little Weber grill. Do you have any idea how easily sparks can fly and land on your neighbor’s house? I know your house is a money pit, but that doesn’t entitle you to burn down the whole neighborhood with your little arson project. And stop doing home improvement projects or whatever the hell it is you’re doing in your “shop” at midnight on weeknights. Fuckwit. And, for the love of Og, stop screeching at your baby in that high pitched shriek. No wonder the little fucker screams non-stop. I swear, that house is the mouth of hell. People move in, they’re normal, they live there for a couple of months, and they turn into raving fuckwits, and before I know it, they’re brandishing knives in the street, stealing shoes, and selling meth. (I really wish I were exaggerating here, but every single tenant, and there have been at least 20 or so, for the past 7 years has turned into a stark raving fuckwit and at least half of them have been evicted when they left the house in handcuffs.)
Dear cat, you have 3 nice clean litterboxes to choose from. USE THEM! I do not enjoy sitting down in to watch tv and wondering, “hm, why is my ass wet?” Nor do I enjoy spending my tv time cleaning upholstery. :mad:
To my soon to be EX BIL:
Do not take your kids on a camping/water skiing/overnites at friends house trips etc after you told their mother they would be home when she got there after being gone the weekend.
To my boss:
it’s bad enough that you’re (culturally) unable to answer questions requiring answers outside the yes/no range.
That therefore you’ve never been able to tell me whether there’s sick days here or not (apparently the answer is a tad too complex, you say “depends” and then can’t elaborate),
much less how to find a specialist (do I have to go through a GP or not?),
or what to do if I ever wake up sick as a dog and can’t come in.
It’s real nasty that I spent two weeks in pain because of the fabulous “ergonomic” chair at work.
Pain which went away when I swapped the chair for a non-ergonomic but smaller one, but I’m still trying to retrain my walk, because my body remembers the pain and tries to walk in the way that minimized it.
But you know, if I spend two days off (from my vacation or my sick days? who knows?) because of a doctor’s appointment back in Spain to get the results of some bloodtests, NO, that does NOT fix my leg! Nor does it fix my (possible) neurology problem, nor does it mean I don’t need my yearly gyne checkup any more, or that I don’t need to see a dentist ever again.
It was the results of a blood test, not the Fountain Of Life!
And I’m having another appointment in a few weeks for an MRI, and then one for the results of the MRI - and if you wanted me to not go home for them, you should have told me how to find a neurologist here when I asked!
Dear customers,
If I tell you the factual answer to your question, that is the answer. It remains the answer whether you want it to be the answer or not. Additionally, I am not a wizard, so asking the same question three times will not suddenly unlock the hidden door and get you a different answer.
If you are calling about something to do with your credit card, have your credit card in your hand or at the very least in your line of sight. Do not have it zipped in your wallet, which is zipped in your purse, which is in the car. No, I cannot hold while you run out to the garage.
If you are calling to get an address or phone number and you are not blessed with eidetic memory, have a pen and paper in your hand or in your line of sight. Make sure the pen works before you place the call. No, I cannot hold while you search your entire house for one.
My time is at least as valuable as yours. Let the other call go to voice mail. If you choose to answer it, do not be surprised that I don’t wait five minutes for you to finish up.
I got smart after a while; I asked people if they had a pen AND paper before I reeled off addresses, after one too many person who answered yes to having a pen then made me stop and wait while he went in search of paper. It’s a wonder you don’t see more people just lying on their sides on the sidewalk, twitching, because they forgot how to walk.
I wish to add to my rant about my body; not only can I not stay up late any more, but after doing a small amount of digging yesterday, I now have a back that is so sore it feels like it might charley horse at any moment. Stupid getting older.