You get bread for 79¢? I’d kill to get a loaf of bread for 79¢! Only I can’t because the only bread that exists for that price is crappy tasteless white bread. Whereas I need the 100% whole grain kind (whole wheat or seven grain), the kind that’s so goddamn wholesome and natural that there’s seeds and such all stuck to the top. I’m lucky to find it for $1.50 on sale.
To the dork that “corrected” the grammar in the library book I’m reading:
[ul]
[li]It’s not your book. Who do you think you are?[/li][li]What you marked out was correct, and what you wrote in was not. You probably felt very smart while you did it, but that was an illusion.[/li][li]Even if it was incorrect, it was in the dialogue. Sometimes, authors allow their characters to speak with incorrect grammer. Because some people talk that way. Get over it.[/li][li]Don’t write in library books! Just DON’T![/li][/ul]
I know it’s lame, but it irritates me. Grr.
It’s cold.
It’s so cold.
The high today was 6 F, which is bad enough, but it’s supposed to get colder this weekend. The last time I looked, the high on sunday was supposed to be 0 F. That’s not even a temperature! It’s no temperature!
I had been planning on not leaving the house this weekend, maybe not even leaving my nice toasty bed. Of course, my boss decided to call a meeting at noon on sunday, when if we’re lucky the temperature will reach 0.
Damn.
Attention Fellow College Students:
How the FUCK did you morons get into college? You obviously have the collective reading skills of a deranged amoeba. Several dozen huge, brightly-colored signs clearly state that all textbooks are upstairs. You walked past said stairs just after the fourth sign, remember? Don’t wander around the pens and pencils and then approach me and ask “Do you have textbooks here?”
For that matter, there’s another huge brightly colored sign hanging from the ceiling in the fucking MIDDLE of the store that points clearly to the location of the Scantron forms. Don’t walk past it five or six times before eventually giving up and asking where the Scantrons are, particularly when you’re standing right next to foot-high stacks of the fucking things. Fuckhats.
Attention Recipients of Freelance Tech Support:
“Advice” and “Advise” are NOT INTERCHANGEABLE!!! “Please advice on this” makes just as much sense as “Thanks for the advise”, i.e. NONE AT FUCKING ALL!!!
Ass off, fuckhats.
Psssst. Sing it to the tune of Moonlight in Vermont.
Unfortunately, I’m fresh out of tiny rants right now. I do, however, find the notion of a person’s barking keeping a dog awake strangely satisfying.
I have to vent this.
Ok, “Asshat” and “Blondie”. I have been sitting in this same seat for hockey games for the past 8 years. I know who regularly sits here. I know them by name, I know their kids, and I know when their family members are ill. You are not regulars. “Blondie” even admitted this was her first hockey game.
I understand not knowing the game. 11 years ago, when I attended my first game, I didn’t know squat about hockey. I have learned a lot - and one of the main things I know is that I couldn’t play the game if my life depended on it. That is why I am a fan - I very much admire the skills exhibited by these players.
I came very close to turning around and telling you to “suit up or shut up” tonight - and you were supposedly cheering for MY team. Since you had trouble walking down the steps to the seats unaided, I would pay to see the entertainment if you took the ice.
And just because I cheered loudly when the player I sponsor scored his second professional goal, it does not mean “she must be fucking him.” I am his sponsor, I am his friend, I am happily married and I am* old enough to be his fucking mother*. It may not happen in your world, but in the real world males and females can be friends without having to screw.
When I was new to the game, I cheered when appropriate and kept my mouth shut otherwise. I only wish you had been sitting near some other friends of mine, who are not as polite and nonconfrontational as I am.
You stupid bleached bimbo. You give women a bad name at sporting events.
Crappy tasteless white bread is the kind I got. Actually, crappy tasteless wheat bread, but it’s hard to tell the difference when it tastes like cardboard and gives me a stomach ache after eating it.
My manager’s fucking mumblefucked accent is worse than the Asian guy from South Park mixed with Swahili tongue clicks. He could not speak worse English if his hovercraft was full of eels.
He’s a nice guy so that’s all I will say for now, but he is on seriously thin ice!
Jodi, I trust that you looked toward the table for a few moments, and then replied to the nit: “The table disagrees with you. By the way, her name is Tabbatha.”
My own small rant:
I want snow. I moved to a chalet at the base of a mesa by an abandoned ski hill so that I can ski up and across to another the hill where I have a membership, and ski back at the end of the day. This season there has only been one day when there has been enough snow to do this. Grumble.
Jesus Christ, you two. If you’re having relationship problems, that’s your business, but don’t have them at the top of your lungs at this time of night. And do NOT slam the front gate when you leave. I physically felt the vibrations. I think everyone in the building did. If you have another of these scenes, I’m calling the cops. No fooling. Rather tell them that you’re having a dispute than that one of you is bleeding to death outside my front door.
You must’ve been behind my husband. I’ll smack 'im one for ya next time he does it.
Preach it! I’m hoping my MIL won’t want to go to lunch today because of the cold. I’m freekin’ done with winter. Just let me stay here under my 'lectric blankie until the spring thaw.
I just got home and checked weather.com. Including the wind, it is -15F outside. Negative fucking fifteen! I am so making some cocoa and not leaving my apartment.
Sucks to be you. We won’t be in negatives til Midnight. The windchill is hideous, but we’re clocking in at 6 degrees right now.
I, too, have been noticing the folks stopping their cars waaay far from the lines lately. It’s annoying, yeah, but I’ve just chalked it up to them bein’ old folks who most likely have lost their depth perception.
I have a new driving rant just about every freakin’ day. As I experience it, I think that I’m gonna get home and immediately rant about it, yet I forget. Damn, got to get my priorities straight.
My work colleagues, please stop trying to run over me in the parking lot in the morning. I am in the crosswalk. You have to stop for the stop sign anyway. It is not an inconvenience for you to wait another fraction of a second to let me finish crossing the street.
Those of you who wear perfume, knock it off. You absolutely reek. I can smell your funk when I walk thirty feet behind you, and this is when we’re outside the building.
Idiot drivers, you are driving a small passenger car. You do not need to swing out all the way to the left before you make a right turn, as you are not driving a tractor-trailer rig.
Back to morons at work, when you push the elevator button, please don’t then plant yourself directly in front of the buttons so that nobody else can get at them. It might be that they wish to push one of the other buttons.
We all know there’s a special circle of hell reserved for those selfish people who can’t be bothered to wait until people have got off the train/tram etc. before pushing their way on. I mean, aside from basic politeness, it just shows a real lack of common sense: there’s far more room outside the train than inside the train, so why not wait until everyone who needs to has got off? Seriously.
But when the person trying to get off the train is blind? And people are still pushing past them to get on? You stupid, selfish fucks!
Thanks.
Not much of a rant, but I am really, really tired of people assuming that I can’t understand or speak Bulgarian. Not long ago, I wanted to poke my head into the dance studio where my students were practicing (there’s a folk dance troupe in my town, lots of my kids are in it and they are GOOD; I love to watch them), but it turned out that because they were having a performance the next day, a woman was standing in the doorway and wouldn’t let me in. She said: “You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”
There was a crowd of bored students around, most of them high school age (I teach elementary and middle school aged kids), and one of them, some kids I didn’t even recognize, said to the guard woman, “She doesn’t understand Bulgarian.”
I turned to him and said, in Bulgarian: “Oh really? I’m so glad you’re here to speak for me then.” (One of my eighth graders was standing right there and cracked up. Point for me.)
That’s just one example, but it happens all the time. I’ve been here for almost ten months, if my communication skills were really as bad as many people seem to think, I’d have to be pretty damn stupid.
I go to the mall, and there is a television showing ads in the food court. I go the bathroom in the mall, and there is a television screen on the door of my stall marketing to me as I try to have a nice, quiet pee. I go to a hockey game, and I can’t look anywhere without seeing logos. I go to Safeway, and there are ads all over my shopping cart.
Why stop there, though? There are so many untapped marketing sources - all those big, blank sides of houses, private vehicles, dogs that go out for walks in public, baby strollers - these marketers are really missing out on some prime opportunities here. Heck, I’m dreaming all night long, with no commercial breaks - how did that slip between the marketing cracks?