Hey Audrey, your name reminds me of this movie I saw once.
It was My Fair Lady. It has this really cool sequence where Eliza goes to a horse race. You really should see it.
Have you seen Roman Holiday?
And don’t you hate people who shamelessly repost something they recently put on another board? Why, just the other day in the BBQ Pit:
**Would people with two eyes just SHUT UP! **
First off, I blame the media. Turn on TV and look at the beautiful people, and what do you notice about them? They all have two eyes. So two eyes becomes the standard of beauty that everyone is supposed to live up to.
People with three eyes are shown only as villians, freaks or the butt of jokes. Maybe that’s why, in this politically correct age, three-eyed people are the one group you can still make fun of. I can’t understand why people think they have a right to come up to me and joke about it. Like the guy at the party last weekend, takes one look at me and says “Ai, ai, ai.” Hah hah. Clever. That’s the first time I’ve heard that one – this week. Or “Hey, Triclops.” Or “giving me the eye?” Or “don’t forget to dot all the eyes.” If I hear that one more time, I’m going to cross their T – with a tire iron. (Does anyone have any good comebacks for these?)
Another annoying thing is when they sincerely ask, “Who was that guy on that one ‘Twilight Zone’ episode with three eyes?” Like everyone with three eyes is supposed to know everyone else.
What hurts is that some people just assume I have three eyes because I wanted to. Like it’s something I just woke up and decided to do. Listen, it’s not my choice, believe me. I have to go through a lifetime of never getting to take advantage of the specials at Pearl Vision. They don’t make glasses that fit me, not nice ones anyway. And I have to spend 50% more on Murine. That hurts most of all.
Listen, people, I’m just like you. When I laugh, my third eye laughs. When I’m sad, it cries tears just like yours – only down the middle of my nose and off the tip like a drop of snot, but anyway. Please, people, can’t we just get along?
Bottled Water, i hate bottled water, waste of money / plastic/ resources etc etc
I see the big purple letters, emblazoned across the shiny, emerald green box: NO MORE PRE-RINSING!. Cue the angelic choir singing a rich and glorious major seventh chord.
I lift the box with a reverence that I reserve for my finest treasures. In smaller but bold red letters with a yellow halo all around them, I read: “Go straight from the table to the dishwasher”.
The rest of my shopping is a blur. None of it matters. The important work is done. I have found the Holy Grail. What more do I need?
When I arrive home, I take out the shiny green box first, and lovingly put it in a special place allocated for only the most important things: my countertop. I try to subdue my anticipation by distracting myself with movies and games until I can dirty enough dishes for my first load — the new load that will launch me from slavery to freedom.
At last, the moment arrives. Sufficient dishes have collected, and I place them in the dishwasher with an almost giddy abandon. I’m not rinsing you, Mr. Glass! You either, Ms. Plate! Into the dishwasher, Spoon! No rinse for you! Ha ha ha! I cackle with delight.
I reach for the shiny green box, rip off its adhesive tab, pull open its magnificent aluminum lip, and begin to pour. And then I see the tiny word on the back. The word I that I missed when I read the box in the store. The word that now flings me off my cloud onto the hard earth below.
“most”
I don’t have to pre-rinse “most” dishes. The detergent takes care of “most” caked-on food. I can put “most” of my glasses directly into the dishwasher.
Most? Most? Which ones exactly? Is it the tomato or the butter? The jelly or the mustard? The gravy or the chocolate icing? How do I know what I must pre-rinse and what I may not?
With enormous sadness, I remove the contents of the dishwasher and turn on my faucet. I remind myself of why I am a Melancholy. I resign myself to the fact that I’ve been had. I come to a message board. I warn others. I have done all I can do.
Dammit, when is the Treasury Department going to wise up and put President Johnson on currency? Andrew or Lyndon, either one, doesn’t matter, just so long as one of them shows up. Think of the rich additions to the language!
“It’s all about the Johnsons.”
You can have the [goods or services] as soon as you slip me a Johnson."
“SHOW ME THE JOHNSONS!”
When the ONLY email you get from some people are virus alerts that they don’t bother to check as a hoax first…and of course 10 times out of 10 (at least in her case) always are just that!
What is with stupid people who have too much time on their hands to think of stupid things??? What stupid things you ask?
Where does the white go when the snow melts?
If 7-11 is open 24hrs, why are there locks on the doors?
If sourcream is already sour…why does it have an expirary date?
I mean come one… :S
What is with stupid people who have too much time on their hands to think of stupid things??? What stupid things you ask?
Where does the white go when the snow melts?
If 7-11 is open 24hrs, why are there locks on the doors?
If sourcream is already sour…why does it have an expirary date?
I mean come on… :S
What about those jerks that double post? GOD I hate them.
…why does my kitten Mandy have to be so damn cute, like a little fluffy sausage…yet be such a little bitch at the same time with all of those teeth and claws and pointy bits which inhibit me from giving her the hugs and kisses that she so richly deserves??
When I say to you, Wait Staff, “Coke or Pepsi?”, I am asking a question! “Yes” is not a proper response to a multiple choice question! If you reply Coke, I will ask for a cherry Coke. If you carry only Pepsi, I will ask for a milk. DO NOT SAY “Yes” THEN WALK AWAY AND RETURN WITH A PEPSI!! And then, when I say to you, “This is a Pepsi, not a Coke” **your response should not be, **“But aren’t they the same thing?”
NO, YOU… DUMB BELL, THEY ARE NOT THE SAME FREAKIN’ THING!
I want to kill you sometimes, do you understand that, Wait Staff?