Anything that will help reduce the amount of whining from these poor, underserved Westsiders will make me happier!
You’re just upset no one’s called you “dynamic.” 
Dear every company that makes jeans,
Is it too much to ask for a pair of traditional, straight-leg or boot-cut denim jeans? I don’t want stretchy jeans, I don’t want anything embroidered on them, I don’t want a reversible belt, I don’t want glitter, I don’t want patches on them, I don’t want them any color but blue. Blue jeans. They’re supposed to be one of the most simple, common items of clothing imaginable. Please stop with the glitter butterflies.
Also, the next clothing company to randomly recalibrate their sizes gets a free firebomb to their corporate office. Some of us really and truly do need those small sizes, fuckers.
Oh. Well, that’s no help then.
Rant acceptable.
My company very nicely let us all leave early today, just like every other employer in the region. Just as I expected, I spent five hours in traffic. (Ever drive Rte. 3 without a driver’s windshield wiper? That was an adventure.)
Next storm, please let me stay at work until about nine, when the traffic starts to ease up, and let me come in late the next day.
Don’t get me started on “irregardless”. I want to strangle anyone who says it. I bite my tougue bloody not to correct and tell them there is no such bloody word!!(or even a notion of a word 
)
You should never go to the Irregardless Cafe then.
So the sinus/ear infection I thought was starting localised to a throbbing pain in my lower molar around 3:30am today. Luckily my dentist had Friday office hours and was able to get me a work-in appointment at an endodontist for noon. My dental insurance only covers 20%, but hell, at least I have dental insurance. $740 for the root canal, with the crown still to come.
On the way back to the office, I stopped through a Popeye’s to get some mashed potatoes because I hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. The cashier asked me how many people have told me I looked like Hillary Clinton. It was only ten years ago I had friends I hadn’t seen for years calling me out of the blue to tell me that they’d seen “Titanic” and Kate Winslet in that movie looked just like me. What the fuck has has happened to me in these last ten years besides getting married? Is 30 to 40 that hard of a downward slide?
I’m depressed and can’t even have ice cream.
Poster (on another board) who keeps starting threads about the fucking weather. STFU already!!! Yes, it’s bleedin’ cold outside and it DOES snow at times. It’s called winter you fool!
Jeez, I just want to stretch my arms through cyberspace and choke the crap outta her.
Matter of fact, let’s choke everyone who has to comment about the weather. Here in the U.S., in many parts, it is cold and wintery. Get over it. If you don’t like it, move to Florida or California or Texas. But stop with the comments every winter like you are SO surprised that winter actually occurs.
To my co-worker.
I hate you.
You are a horrible, childish, petty, nasty, condescending, pissy little bitch. And I hate the fact that I have to work with you. I hate that you have information I need. I hate that there’s no way for me to get around the shit that you spew left and right and still do a half decent job. You are an awful human being. And your awfulness spews forth at everyone in your work vicinity.
I also hate you because you drag me down into your swill. I admit it, I’m weak. And when you come in flinging your crap left and right, I really try. Really, I do. I start at nice, but you keep flinging, so I move to distantly polite, but that’s not enough for you, so I get to direct, and nothing. So finally, there I am, flinging crap right along with you because that’s the only way I can get what I need to do my job. And, at that point, and only at that point, never any sooner, I finally do…along with your fucking insincere hurt, injured, martyred act that in your feeble, sick, twisted, pathetic mind justifies everything you’ve done all along. I don’t like being down in the mire… I don’t like myself when I’m there. I hate that I don’t have the patience or creativity to figure out a way to not crawl down into the excrement you carry with you everywhere.
I’m so fucking stupid!
I worked on a document in Word all afternoon but never bothered to save it as a file. So then when I went to close it, it asked Would you like to save this document? and I clicked NO. Because I’m a complete moron. I knew it the instant I’d done it, which is zero comfort since I just lost a whole afternoon’s work.
Aaaaand, yes, my document is gone for good.
Fuck. Let the Friday night drinking commence.
Word usually saves temporary copies of your documents. Maybe you can find it somewhere on your hard drive?
Oh for pete’s sake! Way back 30 years ago I lived in Raleigh and loved Irregardless Cafe. To this day when I hear someone use the word - including in eerems’s post - my irritation is tempered by fond memories of tasty treats from Irregardless. Good to know they’re still around!
Two rants, one directed at a potential employer, one at myself:
Potential employer, please make a decision about your shortlist already. You didn’t get back to me when you said you would, so I called to follow up. I was told that the shortlist hadn’t been prepared yet, and they were having trouble scheduling a panel for the second round of interviews, so there’s a good chance nothing will happen until January. That’s fine, I understand that you’re just starting up, so you’re trying to fill quite a few positions and that scheduling can be difficult at this time of year, but couldn’t you at least let me know either that I’ve made the shortlist and you’ll be in touch after the holidays to set up an interview, or that I didn’t make the cut. I really want this job and I think I’d be a good fit, but at this point I don’t really care what they decide, as long as I know something!
As for me, I made a really bad decision earlier this week, and now I’m regretting it immensely. Several months ago, I started seeing an absolutely wonderful guy - he’s smart, funny, geeky, cute and a really good dancer, just to list a few of his good qualities. We had a lot of fun together, and we suit each other in a lot of ways, but we never really committed to being in a relationship due to certain reservations on both sides. Over the past few weeks, we’ve been working on resolving the relationship limbo, and ultimately came to the conclusion that we’re better off as friends. There are good, logical, rational reasons for this decision, but my gut is screaming at me that it was the wrong one. As a good friend pointed out, we wouldn’t have spent somewhere in the neighbourhood of 5 hours holding each other and crying after we’d realized we’d arrived at a consensus if calling it quits was something either of us truly wanted to do. 
Not when you click the magic “No”… that wipes all those temp files away.
Dear Real Estate Agent,
The answer to “does the owner of this rental property allow pets” is not “Sorry, this property doesn’t become available till the 21st of December”. I’ve already been burned once by a landlord who wouldn’t accept my cat, and who knows how many of the houses I didn’t end up applying for had similar secret clauses. It’d be really nice to know if I’m wasting my time before I shlep my three under-fives round to your viewing.
And I can’t even send a sarky message back, because I still want your house…
I’m awake right now at 4 AM simply to sit up so I don’t puke from all the booze I drank this afternoon.
It seemed like such a good idea 12 hours ago.
I suck.
No one with Robert E. Howard in their location sucks. 
I heartily agree with each and every post about plus-size clothing and would like to add the following:
HEY!! Clueless fashion designers! Fat girls do not want or need low-and mid-rise jeans. What is a cute little muffin-top on Bambi is a freakish ballooning Bundt-cake-top on me! And it pushes that fat roll up to my bra band, making it not only unattractive, but painful as it is squeezed between two unyielding garments. Can you please make some regular jeans that we can wear without looking like cartoons?
I was feeling all sorry for myself because I had to bring our car in today for a probably long maintenance session; I wanted to play computer games and knit and stuff. I slipped in the driveway even though I was being super careful, and broke my arm (non-displaced, broken radius). Now I have the day at home like I wanted, but I can’t play computer games or knit, and I have to get my arm put in a cast whenever an orthopedist can see me. I won’t have the knit cap I was making finished in time to donate it to the charity we’re supporting through work. At least I take public transport to get to work. Oh, and we had plans to go to a Christmas party tonight and to lunch with friends tomorrow.