One of my Facebook friends shared a cutesy little image that said “Life would be better with more tutu’s.” I desperately desperately wanted to comment “Life would be better with fewer unnecessary apostrophes” and a link to this page. http://www.apostropheabuse.com/ But I didn’t!
There are times I don’t share things I see, simply because the grammar errors make me twitchy, and I don’t want anyone to think I did it and/or didn’t notice.
OK Mapquest, wtf happened to you? Yesterday you worked fine and now today you can’t find addresses you found then and you won’t print the entire directions. Aaaargh, it’s so damn frustrating!
I hate my sinuses. I really hate the headaches they can sometimes give me. Sound hurts, light hurts, movement induces nausea, plus it feels like a giant hand is clamping down on my skull, which feels rather like an eggshell. Ugh. Things have improved since this morning, but not enough as far as I’m concerned.
Actually that’s something of a myth. There are no official starts of seasons in the US, anyway.
Cecil explains:
The rest of the column is here. It deals specifically with summer, but can be extrapolated to the other seasons easily enough. The terrifying implication: spring starts March 1st, as meteorologists would reckon. It’s already here and it’s freezing. The temperatures at the major airport nearest my home broke all-time-lowest records for those dates on two separate days this week!
I don’t have a licence. And don’t speak the language well enough to take the test here. Even if I did, we only have a manual transmission, which I can’t (physically) drive. This move wasn’t made for my convenience.
Hopefully we’ll get in to see the doctor tomorrow.
I, of Course, have all the time for everything, as I’m stay at home at the moment.
Posted in wrong Pit thread, so about eight people will see the duplicate, but …
My old-ass cat has started shitting on the floor. In my crappy new little apt. that I got shuttled off to live in after my husband’s death. Which has installed wall-to-wall carpeting. Which I told my parents I hate. To which I had to hear “Why? It’s lovely! Who doesn’t like carpeting?” ad nauseum. (HA!!)
Who has two thumbs, two cats, no husband, and knows why wall-to-wall carpeting sucks? THIS DOPER!!
So … is he sick? Old? Senile? Objecting to the move in the only/smelliest way he knows? I know he ain’t senile, he still knows ezzactly when his mealtimes should be (purple got up? breakfast! purple got home? dinner!) so smart money is on one of the other options. :mad:
Poetry in itself can be okay. Well, some of it. But she quoted one of her poet “heroes” as saying “I don’t want to make a living, I want to live a making” as though that was something profound, and that’s when I gave up on the podcast.
I’d give up on that podcast, too, if that’s what I heard. And if I didn’t have a drinking problem, I’d start one up, posthaste, if I had to listen to that glurge.
Nauseam. And will it be evil of me to wish an allergy to those itty bitty bugs which live in carpeting on your parental units? Or at least, and as the head allergologist in my local hospital put it, “perhaps a mild rinitis” (mild my tush).
I was trying to make a kitteh-joke about the smell of catshit on carpeting, but it didn’t work anyway, so … thanks for at least letting me know how to spell that!
Woke up this morning to a smell (yeah … your day is going downhill from there when that happens) and had to clean him up (“Mrrrrow!” “Dude, I don’t like this anymore than you do.” “MrrrrrrrrWWWWW!” “Dude.” “MrrrwwaaAAAHHH!” “You wanna clean this up yourself?” “MrrrwwWWWW!” “With your tongue?” “MRRR … . . rrr ww” “Yeah, I thought so.”) and so I ran home on my lunch break, expecting catshit caked to his fur, on the furniture, up the walls … he was just chillin’ and looked at me like “Where my scritches be?”
I’m coming home (after an evening with my parents, which is its on pittting) to Apocalypse Meow, aren’t I?
Rhinitis.
Roddy
Yesterday, I got paybacks for once. We were at Costco buying the month’s supply of items for a local backpack lunch program that we run. It requires one of those large carts and the damn thing is very heavy when full, difficult to get moving and slow to stop.
So we’re ready to turn a corner and head for checkout when this little boy (probably about 4 or 5) steps out and stands in front of my cart. I dragged it to a stop before hitting him and the little shit just stands there, daring me to move. I hear his mother: “Now Danny, move away. …” I pivoted to the side and started to push and the little snot moves in front of me, giving me an insolent look that his mother can’t see. “Now, Danny. . .”
I move once again and he moves again, giving me the “nyah, nyah” look. I look at his mother and say “He’s going to get run over.” She trots over and tells him “Okay, you have to ride in the cart now.” Danny starts whining and blubbering as she sticks him in the cart. As she moved away, Danny looked back at me with a big pout on his face, and I mimed laughing my ass off while I pointed at him.
Yeah, it was childish and I enjoyed every moment of it.
This morning I wake up to rattle-rattle-thump of something falling outside my room, then the cat panicking and bolting. Got up to go check it out, thinking it was probably around 3am (had not looked at the clock) and I had a couple of hours of sleep to look forward to. Or at least that I desperately needed that much more.
Was out of my room for 15 seconds when my alarm went off. 
Nah,'tain’t rhinitis either, not unless by doze beginz ad da boddom o ma dibs… 's what I get for not googling it
That doesn’t even make good nonsense.
Bloody hell I hate people who don’t read.
I sale QuickBooks via chat. When the chat box first pops on a person’s screen it asks would you like to speak to a sales agent. When I do my opening it includes the words Welcome to QuickBooks Sales.
Yet I constantly have people turning to me for support for Quicken, Turbotax, Payroll, and QuickBooks support. They then get pissed when I have to explain to them that I can’t help them and give them the proper support numbers.
The kicker is these chats still count against my conversion numbers if I can’t get a sale or lead pass off these people. Like someone is going to want to fork out $300+ on new software when their current version isn’t working.
Exactly. If you think back on “The Sphinx” from the movie Mystery Men, at least his reversing of phrases made grammatical sense, and even occasionally meant something. This is just gibberish.
Also, non-profit reps are some of the most arrogant, self entitled bastards I have ever met. 9 times out of 10 somewhere in the chat they will demand; not ask for, demand a discount because they are a non-profit.
They aren’t happy with a 20% discount either. They want more. I should feel ashamed of myself for not giving them a better deal! (Been told this a lot.) Hell, I’ve had them get pissed because I could only offer them 50% off the software sometimes. It isn’t the small non-profits who are giving me this trouble either. Its the ones who are handling $200k+ a year in funds, and this includes churches.
Fuckers need to realize that $400 (full price before discounts) for software they can use for 5+ years isn’t a bad price. Hell, I’ve talked to people who are still using versions we released in 1998.
Also, fuck Intuit for donating software to tech soup so that non-profits can get it at a pittance ($40), telling us agents about it, then forbidding us from telling customers.
While I’m at it, people need to learn how to fucking google. 90% of the questions I get asked can be answered in 5 seconds with a quick google search. The reason I know this is I had little to no actual software training for this job, so I have had to do a lot of googling on the fly to do this job.
The reasoning for not having software training was thus: “You’ll have access to our website on the sales floor. You can find the most of your answers there. (Bullshit!) You’ll also have access to the software so you can use it to find answers there as well. (Software on all of the computers isn’t registered, rendering it useless…) You’ll also be able to google and find your answers that way.”
First, whatever asshole invented “terrible twos” clearly never had children. Neither of my children had tantrums at two; try 3.5 to about 4.5. Coincidentally, my four year old is in her room having a bender of a temper tantrum. She rarely has them, but this one just takes the fucking cake. Luckily, I have time to sit here and bitch about it while I wait for her to calm the fuck down.
Second, the government sucks for doing audits over the weekend. And this woman at work sucks doubly because she’s allegedly a director and has been working on the same product for almost a year, but has to call me on my way home to get my kids because she doesn’t understand how said product works enough to explain it to anyone, much less a government agency. Idiot.