Dear Tropical Storm Ernesto,
Fuck you.
We were supposed to get a beautiful Labor Day weekend, with sunshine and cool Canadian air. But you had to move up the East Coast and FUCK IT UP. Now the forecasters are saying showers and thunderstorms all weekend.
Why couldn’t you just curve harmlessly out to sea?
:mad:
My husband lost his job. From a company he busted his ass for and whose owner personally promised him he was not getting laid off. A few months back he got another offer at another company for better pay and after much consideration he went to give his notice to his current company…they begged him to stay and promised him they would give him a raise within 3 months and match the other offer, if he would just stay with them, they needed him to stay blah blah blah. He thought about it and decided he wanted to stay with them, he put his heart into that company and wanted to grow with them. As soon as the projects he was in charge of were finished they fired him. Nice. It could turn out great since I can see now he was working for complete jackoffs, and he has possibilities in the works but I hate this living day to day crap. Plus not having health insurance sucks - we can still pay COBRA if we feel like shelling out $800 a month. We are trying to buy our own policy independently but I had recent surgery and even though it was for a relatively minor issue (gall bladder) it is raising red flags and we will probably have to pay an arm and a leg just for basic coverage, the whole thing is taking forever and we only have a few weeks left on our grace period for COBRA anyway. Plus prescription coverage, which I need, or pregnancy coverage, which I will want someday, are an additional million dollars a month. My biological clock has chosen this time to scream for a second child. Now is not a good time, ok? We would have to pay for a pregnancy rider for a year or so before coverage would kick in anyway. I hate that we are making decisions about having kids based on money and some insurance agent’s decision about our coverage. Screw everybody. I want to add to our family because it is right for our family, not because of what kind of medical coverage we have, but I am too scared to get pregnant without coverage. Argh.
Now he is looking at starting a business with someone, which could be great, but scary too to depend on a start-up and an unproven future. I like to be able to plan but I need to trust that he can do this. I can work extra hours but that means paying for more daycare too. Argh. This country sucks when it comes to things like childcare and health insurance. He needs to get a regular paycheck, and soon. Stress.
Both cars need to be replaced within a year. I hate looking at the checkbook every month and wondering how we are going to make it. My car broke down and needed repairs, of course, right now.
My best friend is getting married and I just got my bridesmaids dress and I have gained weight and it doesn’t fit. So now I am exercising and dieting like a maniac. (Don’t worry if you are reading this…I promise I can lose 5 pounds before then)
The dog needs to go to the vet. The house needs work. The kid needs clothes. My mother in law is driving me crazy and that is a whole nother rant. I just need to repeat to myself, we are still doing ok. Everything is ok.
Ok, it is good to vent!
I think it’s accented wrong the way it’s written – it would be pronounced REElator. Which I agree is 100% obnoxious. I also add to that list of mispronounced radio ad words, “joolery.” It’s “jooELry,” you nimrod.
Dear co-worker:
You know I’m horribly aracnaphobic. You went out of your way to laugh when I found an old Halloween rubber spider display, shrieked like the little girl that I am decidedly not, and refused to go back into the storeroom for the rest of the day. If you EVER hand me a box of rubber spiders again I will make sure that your corpulent body suffers great indignities before being recycled in questionable internet pr0n films.
Dear customer:
I’m really sorry college textbooks cost so much, Really, I am. I’m a student too, I have to pay the same prices you do. Yelling and bitching and moaning at me won’t make them come down; At best I’ll shrug apologetically and offer to refer you to our book buyer, who will most likely laugh at you. Please stop taking it out on me.
Dear other co-worker:
Damnit, do you have to be so fucking HOT? I’m a married man here!
Dear boss:
It’s pronounced “Fa-mil-i-ar”, not “Fer-mil-i-er”. Regional dialects and accents are fine, but damnit can you just pronounce FAMILIAR right???
Love,
Whifton
I had a crappy day to begin with, was exhausted and more than a little stressed out, and the stupid bus was not making me happy. I ended up just hanging around the giant bus stop running after every bus that came by and asking them if they went by my stop. When one finally did (“yeah, I’m going to your stop, but I don’t leave for another half hour…”) I got on and the thing drove around for nearly an hour before even getting anywhere I recognized. It did eventually stop at my stop, though. But honestly- I could have gotten home from school on foot in about fifty minutes. The bus took me nearly three hours.
Oh, and… this is my own idiocy at work… My first bus was late, so I was getting really nervous by the time we got to the big giant bus stop. There was a bus there and I thought it MUST be mine and didn’t want it to leave. so I gathered up my backpack and bus schedule and purse and ipod and RAN to that other bus… and only realized after I discovered that the bus was not mine that I had left my bus pass in the first bus. So I had to pay for another one.
2. I just found out about twenty minutes ago (yes, at 1:30 in the morning) that my best friend is pregnant. She’s almost seventeen. I know teen pregnancy isn’t a sentence to a horrible life, but… well, much as I love this girl, I wouldn’t trust her to babysit my children. I’m trying to have faith, but I can’t see this being a good thing for my friend, for anyone around her while she’s pregnant, or for her child.
To my darling cat, who up until this point was awesome: I know that it upset you that I was away at work and the hospital all last week, but for Og’s sake, stop attacking the other cat! He’s sweet, he’s old, he’s declawed, and he hasn’t done anything to you except for accidently screaming in your face when my boyfriend stepped on his tail. My boyfriend is sorry, I’m sorry, and the other cat is sorry. Get normal!
Also, to my callers who have product complaints: Your complaint is not funny. I have heard EVERY single one of them before, sometime dozens of times in a day. I will be very polite, professional, and pleasant to you on the phone, but I do not feel like faking laughter 60 times a day! My dad has cancer, you assholes! (I don’t hold them responsible for that, either causing it, or knowing about it, but damn I’m annoyed with them.)
And finally, to my grandma: I love you grandma. You know I do, even when you cry b/c I haven’t been baptised, and then insult my gay friends almost in the same breath. And I also know that you love your son, and you worry about him now that the cancer has returned. But learn this: this time around, it is affecting his heart, and causing him to need oxygen to breathe. He coughs every time he talks, and it hurts him, so STOP CALLING HIM AT THE HOSPITAL! Call my mother, dammit. She knows more about his condition than he does anyway, and when you call my dad, he feels obligated to talk to you so you won’t worry as much. Or, how about this, come visit. Then you can talk and he won’t have to as much.
And another to my sisters, which it pains me to do: I love you guys, but if you think a visit once every two years makes up for not seeing Dad during all of his illness, you are very much mistaken. It makes him physically, noticeably better when you are here. Come visit! Or, hey, sister that is getting divorced and doesn’t have a good job or any real prospects, how about you move down here and help Mom? Wouldn’t that be nice?
end loooong tiny rants. I guess they’re not so tiny, but they’re spread out thinly over a long period of time. does that count?
I fell off my bike while riding down a hill. As a result, I have little scabs on two fingers, one toe and both wrists, large scabs on one hand, one elbow and on my chin, and a huge, continent-shaped one on my left knee with an island scab below it. My shoulder and chest are all scraped up. I look like a fucking leper.
I can’t wear shorts because they brush up against my knee-scab, which is too large and irregularly-shaped for any band-aid. The scab on my chin makes me look like I was in a fight and I have to shave around it. Every time I take a shower the scabs get soft and rub off easily. This morning, parts of the scabs on my knee and my elbow fell off.
And all the while I’m preparing for a long-awaited beach vacation. These scabs should make swimming in salt water fun.
I wasn’t writing it that way to show the accent, I was just trying to emphasize where the mispronunciation occured. It’s spelled “realtor” and pronounced “REE-al-ter” (where’s that schwa character?) and the ad said “REE-lah-ter.”
Look on the bright side: the salt water will help the scrapes heal faster.
Watch out for sharks. 
I wasn’t being critical, InvisibleWombat; I realized what you were trying to say. It’s hard to write a mispronunciation and have it understood if you don’t accent (in writing) the mispronounced part, even if that’s not the way it was said aloud.
What’s worse than a sloth who leaves their ATM reciept on top of the ATM after a transaction?
A sloth who leaves their ATM reciept on top of the ATM after a transaction when there is a trash can right next to the ATM.
What’s worse than a sloth who leaves their ATM reciept on top of the ATM after a transaction when there is a trash can right next to the ATM?
A sloth who leaves their ATM reciept on top of the ATM after a transaction when there is a trash can right next to the ATM and the ATM has a option not to print the receipt.
I’ve always wondered about that - it’s a special kind of laziness. They’ll walk twenty or thirty feet out of their way to take the elevator rather than the stairs. They’ll circle the parking lot over and over to get a spot right-next to the door. If they’d taken the stairs or parked in that first empty spot, they’d be where they wanted to go that much faster.
I’ve seen people almost make an effort to throw something on the ground or hide their trash, when it would be easier to just throw it in the trash can that’s two feet away.
What is wrong with people?
Blisters suck, especially when they are on my feet. They have no purpose that I can tell other than to suck.
Owwww.
{{{Webner}}} (carefully)
Reminds me of a little event at Sea World the other night I like to call, “Fuck Shamu. He has servants that get paid for that sort of thing.”
We stayed to watch the nighttime Shamu show figuring that it would be less of a 15 minute salute to helping the multitudes of kids in the audience get their yah-yahs out before going home and maybe more of a something that might feature some fireworks. We chose wrong, but meh, who cares? It is always fun to watch a big ass water dwelling mammal somehow manage to jump their bodies completely out of the water and look pretty happy doing it.
My point is this: As we were leaving the arena, some dumb twat reached in front of me to stick her folded up paper garbage on the walkway of the grandstands and not into the garbage can that was not a couple of feet forward right in her path. No, instead, she turns her back directly after committing this heinous act of societal heresy and tries to walk away like I’m not going to say something.
At the top of my lungs, I took issue and said, “WHAT IS THIS WORLD COMING TO?? WHAT IS WRONG WITH THAT BLOND IN THE PINK SHIRT RIGHT THERE TRYING TO ACT LIKE SHE DIDN’T JUST LITTER WHEN THERE IS A GARBAGE CAN RIGHT HERE??” As I picked up the garbage to put it in the can, out of the corner of my eye, I see the strange man next to me looking at me like this—> :eek: As if what I had just done was somehow worse. I imagine I might have made Judith Martin’s head explode, but then again, sometimes she’s a pretty uptight bitch, and sometimes I don’t care what she would say. 
Arrrgh.
Twenty-odd pieces of computer desk. All of them fit together perfectly. I have the right amount of screws, and the desk even had a cheap little screwdriver and pressed-metal wrench to help me put it all together. It’s a thing of beauty and a joy to behold.
Except… What’s this? The keyboard tray runners can’t be attached to the keyboard tray? WTF? There are four little holes on the underside of the tray for screws to be put into. That’s awesome, I’ve got four little screws. Except the runners attach to the /sides/ of the tray. I know the picture says the runners have little brackets to wrap around underneath the tray, but these ones don’t. There’s not any weld spots where the brackets might have come off, there’s just no brackets. So I’ve got 99% of a computer desk, and nowhere to put the keyboard*.
*Okay, so I can put the keyboard on the “desk” part where the monitor is supposed to sit, and that’s okayish. It’s just a little higher than I like to have my keyboard. I think hubby’ll get the new desk.
I had that happen the last time I bought DIY office furniture, and it was really annoying - but I got the instructions, noted the part number, called the company, and the right parts arrived at my house a couple of days later. Give it a try. If that doesn’t work, then this is a job for… Gorilla Glue!
Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with the Gorilla Glue company and derive no benefit from pimping their glue except for looking smart.
I can’t fucking stand people who ride bikes on sidewalks, particularly narrow sidewalks full of pedestrians. Obey traffice laws, you entitled jackasses!