I’m a bisselsweeper, thankyouverymuch!
Stow, UK, huh? Man, my voice carries.
[sub]North Carolina, USA[/sub]
I jammed my middle finger yesterday, so I can’t work out today. It’s swelling and turning purple. It’s starting to look like a bratwurst.
Dear Dennis Ritchie,
The next time you set out to create a programming language, make sure you understand formal language theory first. The syntax of C is a godawful mess, and that’s before considering the absolute hash the preprocessor makes of the language.
this is exactly why they won’t let me have a hood mounted AK47. The bastids!
Fuckwit roadconstruction guy in your dunebuggy/shovel/plow:
Nevermind that it’s Friday morning rush hour. I can deal with that. But when we are down to one dirt lane and you want to pull in front of me and start pushing dirt around at least give me some kind of sign of what you want me to do.
You know, maybe a hand held up for “stop”? A finger held up for “hold on a second”? Point me to the left, right, wave me past?
But instead you continue pushing dirt around with the line of cars behind me at a stand still.
Then when you reverse yourself out of the way, park it, and just sit there like a dolt you still don’t give me any kind of signal what the hell your doing.
So, I slowly creep forward to go past. This gets your attention and you immediately high tail it to block off my path and start bitching up a storm.
Screw you dude! All you had to do is give me a clue. I hope I left some nice treads in your dirt.
Unilever, distributors of Best Foods Mayonnaise, I’m onto your game, you scalawags! You’ve removed the quart-sized bottle of mayonnaise from the store shelves, and replaced them with 30-ounce bottles! You’re trying to disguise this at the outset, by mixing in a bunch of 40-ounce bottles, marked “Free! 33% More!”, but it’s not going to work!
I’m telling everyone I see that you’re trying to replace the 1-quart bottles with the 30-ounce bottles! I refuse to allow this skullduggery to perniciously infect other purveyors of mayo! For your sake, this better be a test marketing gimmick. I’ll give you this piece of advice for free, right now:
The marketing test is a disastrous failure. It is never to be repeated, and the person who came up with this idea needs to be made an example of.
For the moment I am willing to leave it up to you to decide the neture of that example. DON’T disappoint me, capisce?.
I commute to and from work daily, and part of my commute involves the subway, which in turn involves use of escalators.
Every single day, some fuckwit in front of me who has a rolling bag of some kind fails to notice his or her surroundings and dismounts from the escalator by wildly swinging their rolling cart behind them, causing me to do my best Barry Sanders impersonation to avoid their suddently lethal weapon.
The next person that pulls that shit is going to get this serenade from me, followed by a beat-down:
With karate I’ll kick your ass
From here to Tiananmen Square
Oh yeah, motherfucker, I’m gonna kick your fuckin’ derriere, yeah, yeah
You broke the rules, now I’ll pull out all your pubic hair…
Motherfucker…
I hate it when people post things that make me crave a brat.
You want it should be designed by Larry Wall?
Dear cats,
Please stop peeing in my shower.
Please stop staring at me because you don’t like the cat food I got you,
Please refrain from clawing my daughter and my couch.
Please stop biting me when I brush you.
Please stop rubbing up against my legs when I am feeding you because I will trip.
More purring and less bad kitty behavior will get you lots of tuna fish.
Sincerely,
Your ever loving and ever patient owner.
In Montreal? :dubious:
(If you’re in PA: nevermind.)
I live in a college town. It’s rush week at the frat houses.
They have stereos.
Last night, one of my co-workers tells me, the city police dispatcher took 40 peace disturbance complaints in 2 hours directed towards the stupid frat houses. Why don’t the cops do anything about it?
Because the yahoos at City Hall have seen fit to bestow upon the frat houses Noise Permits, allowing them to disturb the peace of the entire town until midnight.
And it’s my turn to work the city position tonight. I wonder if the mayor’s phone number is unlisted… ::flips feverishly through phone book::
Sweet.
Huh, around here the cops are the noise police for all intents and purposes. There’s very little crime, so they have to find something to do. The town was infamous for handing out a noise permit to someone who snored too loud and was technically over the sound limit when someone complained. Frat houses getting noise permits? Not in a million years with the noise permits handed out so stingily.
Over in this thread they mentioned Vegas and all the water they have, enough for wasteful fountains and a fake pirate scene and all, thanks to the boundless Colorado river.
HEY! Fucktards! That water you’re wasting? Yeah, if you can’t think of anything better to do with it than fancy up your casino, let it go on down river! Maybe, just maybe, someone somewhere else might be thirsty…
No, never mind, gotta have the outdoor pirate scene or the fucking terrorists have won.
I don’t like vegas. 120 god damned degrees, 2% humidity, and they have a giant fountain.
And the lonks with their giant balls.
I was gently reprimanded by our IT rep today for not making a back up of some data. I explained that it was my back up, which had been created by the IT department for me. I thought this would get a little wry chuckle or something. Instead, he continued to explain, as if to a feeble-minded child, that I really did need to back up all my data. Even of the back ups? WHERE WILL THIS END?
Tell me about it. Every time I try to get a little sympathy, someone just wants to eat my finger.
I’ll be so happy when tourist season is over. I am heartily sick of the “Oh!” People.
One of the most annoying parts of working with the public is the repetition. You know what I’m talking about-- you get people who come into you place of work and make the same joke, over and over. Each of them thinks they’re being so fucking clever so you have to at least smile at it or look like a total bitch, even though you’ve heard it ten times already today.
I get what I call the “Oh!” People. Their behavior is like clockwork. The sociologist in me says there’s a paper in this, but I’m too irked by them to have the proper impartial distance.
The “Oh!” People always behave thusly:
- Step up to museum door where there is a big sign at eye-level which reads: “To Enter Museum, Please Ring Doorbell.”
This next is one step which has a bit of variation: *
2a) Ignore sign. Twist and tug helplessly at doorknobs until I see them or they eventually give up and walk away.
2b) Ring doorbell and then begin tugging on door handles as if it was a magical password that would unlock the doors. (Either choice, the “Oh!” People *always *tug on the handles.)
-
Press side of hand against glass door to sheild eyes and peer in.
-
See Lissa walking towards them and say “Oh!” in a tone of pleasant surprise.
It’s that “Oh!” which gets me for some reason. I feel like rolling my eyes every time I see it. Are you so fucking surpised that ringing the doorbell actually brought someone to answer it?
I’m sick of going outside to Windex the door two or three times a day to erase what looks like to be a hundred toe-less infant footprints made by the sides of the “Oh!” People’s hands.
And God save me from the geneologists. There’s a limit to how much interest I can feign in generations of respectable farmers. Once, there was a lady who told me about one of her ancestors who was a bigamist and horse theif. Now,* that *was interesting.
I get to hear all sorts of great stories from friends at school. Parties, beer everywhere, girls, etc. etc. Meanwhile I sit here alone in my room after work.
…graduating early sucks.