I hate boys.
If you pull the bait-and-switch on me over this, I swear to God, I’m so out of there. I’m partially to blame and trust me, I’m pissed at myself for not demanding you be 100% clear in the first place. But you better follow through.
My house smells like feet. Nasty, cheesy, wash them bad boys, feet.
I appreciate that all of TheKids’ friends take their shoes off when they come in - it took them a while to grasp that consideration. And it’s usually not so bad.
But tonight I had nine teenaged boys and five teenaged girls in my little house.
All shoeless.
urp
Okay, when did cell phone pimps become the mallsharks that they now are? I felt like I was in a 60s used car lot yesterday at the Lloyd Center Mall. It seemed like every 50 feet there was another huckster wanting me to upgrade my phone (to what, a toaster oven?), or change my cell service. And they all have that slick salesman look of pomaded hair, ties and sportcoats, shifty eyes and desperation. Creepy fuckers! Get off!
I know you mean well, supervisor, but I don’t like to be randomly touched while you talk to me. (He was standing half behind me, hand on my shoulder.) I have little problem with you standing so close to me, but please, no touching. I consider it an invasion of my personal space.
Tell him that, and soon, before it turns into a harassment complaint.
It’s nothing like that. Think more hand on your shoulder to get your attention than anything else. He’s not even my regular supervisor, so I don’t see him all that often. I just don’t like being touched until I have given permission in some way.
It is tough being misunderstood. Have people ever confused you with something you were fighting against? It’s annoying.
Actually, it’s an occupational hazard of being a Doper and posting in the Pit.
Today a co-worker of mine told me of a customer who she caught taking pictures in my gallery (which is a big no-no). She told him he couldn’t do that, and mentioned that there was a sign outside of the exhibit stating this fact.
His response was “oh, well, I don’t read signs.”
Okay, first of all, that’s why we tell you before you go into the exhibit to not take pictures. So you’re telling us that you don’t read AND you don’t listen. Nice.
Second of all…seriously? I just don’t get this whole “neener neener, I don’t read signs” attitude. Is that supposed to be the cool thing to do now? What do you expect us to say to that? “Oh, well then in that case, I guess the rule doesn’t apply to you! You sly dog, you!”
No. You look like a jackass. Read the signs, follow the rules, and shut the fuck up.
I teach LSAT classes. There’s an exam in December which is more or less the last chance to take the LSAT for fall admission. As a result, I have a lot of desperate kids.
One of them is a student-athlete, which I mention only because she mentions it constantly. It’s the reason she missed the first eight sessions of the course. It’s the reason she couldn’t take the exam in June, when most juniors who plan to go to law school take it. (She plays soccer, so she really DID have an excuse to skip the September administration.)
She’s also an English major, which leads her to pontificate on reading comprehension passages and the “poor, unclear” writing in them. Example: Paragraph 1 talks about two possible explanations for a phenomenon. Paragraph 2 discounts [the first one] almost entirely, and the last sentence says “the only remaining explanation is [the other one].” Paragraph 3 begins, “this hypothesis…” Here, the “this hypothesis” clearly refers to [the other one], but she screams and whines and protests that the only sensible, grammatical reading of the passage indicates that the author is referring to [the first one].
And finally, she filibusters me. She tells me I misspoke but she figured it out herself - a complaint none of my other students have, much less at the frequency that she does. I don’t know if she does it intentionally or not, but she asks me long, rambling questions filled to the brim with stoner logic and terms that might make sense in her own head but that don’t fit together in that order in the real world. She doesn’t respond to requests to clarify her question. Sometimes it’s just an incredulous comment about an answer or a question. Since it’s never a yes-or-no question, I start to give her an explanation, but she interrupts me to start another long, rambling filibuster. When I finally get the explanation out, she gets huffy and says, “That’s what I SAID!!!”
Some law professor’s going to slap the taste out of her mouth first year, if she ever takes the test. Somehow I have the feeling she’s going to postpone and blame me.
Okay, housemate: you can complain about environmental issues and peak oil and being fat, three of your biggest complaints - I ignore a good 90% of what you say, so whatever. You can drive to work in your full-size car every day - I don’t care how you get to work.
You cannot drive to work less than a mile away every day, complain about peak oil and being fat, and not expect me to say, “Well, how about you walk to work instead?”
Jesus christ I cannot believe how pathetic people can be.
There are ads on the internet? 
/firefox user
Fuck creepy crazyass Glenn Beck and his gold shilling commercials. I wouldn’t buy dog shit from my backyard from that squareheaded bugeyed motherfucking creep.