Ok, this is really lame, but here goes:
I am too damn OLD to worry about being one of The Cool Girls. I have never been cool in my life. It’s not going to start happening now. I’m a cranky old gal who barely gets along with the people she loves.
So why do I feel bad that I’m not one of The Cool Girls?? 
Jeezopete.
I’m sorry to hear that, but where exactly is Fuck?
Dear 9th graders also in the computer lab: SHUT UP. I’ve told you to shut up, at this very moment your teacher is telling you to shut up, STOP SHRIEKING AND YELPING AT EVERYTHING YOU SEE ON THE INTERNET.
WHY is it so hot? THIS SUCKS.
In closing, it bothers me whenever someone says that the SDMB is left-leaning, and inevitable some Doper from Western Europe pops in and says “Maybe by US standards, but by WORLD standards, it’s quite centrist”. Right, because Western Europe is, in fact, the entire rest of the world.
The one time I threatened my mother with never, ever, ever visiting to her again, not even for her funeral, was that one time she wrote on the margin of one of my books.
I’ll hold 'em down while you beat them.
Do they speak English in Fuck?
ENGLISH, MOTHERWHATER, DO YOU SPEAK IT?!
My stupid elbow hurts. Like the joint just needs to click with a muted little pop and all will be right. But all is not fucking right, it’s naggingly painful. Fuck fuckity fuck. I bet I have arthritis. Or elbow worms, gnawing away at the bit that goes click. Bah
I’d like to pit hotels where the internet service that was advertised in the same paragraph as the “large rooms with king-size beds”:
needs to be paid separatedly. Excuse me, if you do specify that breakfast is not included and will be 11€, why the fuck do you include internet in your description and then charge it apart?
needs to be requested when you arrive. If you don’t remember to ask about it, they don’t tell you about it. When you ask about it, they look at you in surprise (I don’t know whether they’re surprised that their over-100€/night airport hotel attracts business travelers who want their 'net, or that I don’t look like your usual business traveler) before giving you the code needed to access it.
have an open wifi
which doesn’t really work until you enter the code into your browser,
which in some cases has to be IE (was four hotels ago)
and in others is “any program using html” (was in the last two hotels; in the last one I had to repair WoW because it thought the EULA had changed - but the kidnapping code didn’t activate the “accept” button)
Oh, and don’t assume that everybody has wifi. If I want to cable it, I WANNA! It’s both safer and faster than the wifi, in most cases - and dangit, with your prices, you should provide my choice of three colors of cable 
Canada!
Perambulatory Travelers: please stop throwing your goddamned trash along the side of the road as you make your daily pilgrimages to the gas station, carnicería, lavandería, salón de belleza, or wherever you cambia your cheques. I realize this isn’t the most beautiful part of town, but you’re making it much worse.
County: Please occasionally clean up the goddamned trash along the side of the road. It’d also be nice if you hacked down the grass and weeds from the roadside and medians more than once a year. I know it’s possible because I can drive a mile down the road across the county line, where the same road suddenly looks much cleaner and better-maintained. I notice you’ve been cashing my tax payment checks regularly; how about holding up your end of the forced transaction?
Dearest Darling Damsel at the Library Computer Next to Me,
That was the third phone call you’ve been involved in since you’ve sat down next to me. And they were loud.
After the last one, about the club you and your phonemate are going to tonight and after I learned (since you repeated it 4 times) that you know she’ll have fun, because there will be lots of Hot Guystm there to hook up with, I’d had it.
So, when you whipped open you phone again and I turned to you to say, “If you’re making another long phone call, would you mind stepping out into the hallway,” the response should not be a haughty, “It doesn’t matter, they’re closing in 15 minutes anyway.”
You just admitted that I have 15 more minutes of peaceful, quiet library time coming to me and that your revival of “The Vagina Monologues II” is over.
Most Esteemed Barista(s) with Barely a Pulse or a Brain Cell,
I’ve been coming to this location for a month, I know how you do things. Why was today different?
You, standing in front of a register, call me over and ask what I want. I say, “Venti, double-lid.” You turn to make a comment to your barista-buddy. Ask me again, “What was that?” I repeat. You go to the coffee machines.
I put down payment next to the register where you were located. You turn back, no coffee. I ask, “Who do I pay?” You pick up my money and give it to your b-b. He takes it, then shouts out “Next customer,” and proceeds to take their order.
You put a venti coffee on the counter. One lid.* You turn away. I call you, hand you the cup and say, “I asked for a double-lid; oh, and can I please have my change (which b-b is still holding, taking other orders).”
You place the lids correctly, put coffee on the counter. Still no change. I ask for it. B-b, surprised to see anyone standing in front of him, hands it over.
I leave. It’s only 9:30am. Sigh.
Asking out of complete ignorance: Why do you want a double lid?
[hijack]Fascinating. I have never encountered this before - what’s the benefit?[/hijack]
ETA: it seems, I’m too slow and I didn’t preview. but i won’t mess with the space-time continuum by deleting my post.
and Cowgirl. I like the dome lid with the hole already in it for drinking. Having the extra closed flat lid inside, I can (i) walk fast without spilling, and (ii) put it back on if I have to step away from my desk, keeping the coffee warm longer.
And it makes me feel like I got more for my two bucks. 
wow! thanks! I have learned so much already today and it’s not even noon.
Not to be presumptuous, but have you considered a thermos mug? That will solve your problems, keep your coffee even hotter, and get you 10 cents off every cup.
Thanks!
I have (and you’re right), but I’m in too many different offices on different days and it’d be too hard to keep up with.
Since Physical Plant installed the door between our office area and the outer lab corridor a few years ago, roughly 600 man-hours* have been expended fixing/maintaining/lubricating/fussing over this highly specialized piece of 1940s-era technology. Today a worker was again repairing the “automatic” closer mechanism. Wonderful - but do you think you could do the job without testing by click-slamming the door roughly 100 times in the space of ten minutes? Not to mention communicating non-stop with your Base Station by walkie-talkie at 90 decibels?
clickSLAM clickSLAMclickSLAMclickSLAMclickSLAMclickSLAMclickSLAMclickSLAMclickSLAMclickSLAMclickSLAM
“I got a bigger screwdriver now.”
[Midnight Cowboy voice] I’m working here!!! [/MC]
this is dwarfed by the 60000 hours spent each year messing with the piping/wires/vents/Bulgarian dwarfs* secreted in the ceiling.
**OK, little people.
so i am moving from chicago to new york on friday, into an apartment that is about half the size and twice the price as my current one. all of my big furniture is already gone, whisked away by friends and neighbors - which makes me happy, because, since it is already gone, i dont have to worry about it anymore. all that is left in my apartment is a quart of soup (lunch, dinner), my sleeping bag, and a whole lot of odds and ends.
books i have finished reading, a bunch of hairbands, cleaning supplies, extension cords, three million pens, things i need to give back to other people, things i need to send to even other other people, baggage locks, flashlight, plastic bins, papers i need/dont want to throw away, etc. etc. etc.
all of these things have been nicely organized into piles. i organized them into piles last night. this morning i woke up, and the piles WERE STILL THERE.
so. to all you small piles of randomly assorted pieces of factory molded plastic crap - i understand that, as you are largely plastic, or paper, you may be lacking in the brains god gave to humans like me. so i will spell it out to you. when i organize you into piles, and then move said piles from the bedroom, to the living room, to another corner in the living room, and then in front of the door, and then i go to sleep, that is your cue to disappear. i do not want to wake up and find you exactly where i left you. i want you gone. i do not particularly care where you go. just go somewhere else.
maybe you are jealous that all the big furniture got carried out of the apartment and carted away by other people in big fancy pick-up trucks. maybe you expect me to do the same for you. sorry. i sorted you already. i moved you around the apartment three times. my job is done.
maybe in your next life, you will be reincarnted into a big plastic dresser, or a chair, or an ottoman. probably not, because you are made from the kinds of stuff which will not decompose for thousands of years, thus greatly reducing your chance for reincarnation. sorry - sucks to be you. this does not excuse you from your current state of affairs. please do not take it personally. i love you all, but i cannot take you with me. we have said our goodbyes. now leave - i dont care if you disappear into a vortex, roll out the door or grow wings and fly away. just go.
thank you, and goodbye. if i find you here one hour from now, i will be forced to move you back into the bedroom. (and then back to the living room. then to a more remote corner of said living room.) eventually i may be forced to throw you away myself. please dont let it come to that.
also. feet. stay cleaner! i am tired of swiffering already.
Update: There are now two people laboring on Operation Door. With power equipment, crowbars and low-yield explosives, from the sound of it.
I’ve had one surgically attached to my arm. Makes keeping track of it a breeze.