Goddamn motherfucking goatfelching* brown marmorated stinkbugs! Why the hell did you feel it necessary to come down here? I’m flushing every damn one I find down the damn toilet and at this rate the French Broad River’s going to be crawling with those things by the end of the month!
Fucking invasive insect species! Where’s that wasp that lays eggs in their heads? I want a case of them stat!
*been a while since I’ve seen that one used. Bringing back a classic.
Just to be clear, I’m looking at shirts that cost about $100 each. I like nice shirts. They last a long time, and it is so much easier for me to shop online for things I don’t actually need to try on (16 inch collar, 34 inch sleeve, check!).
I just don’t want to order a “classical fit” shirt just to find out that it is sized to fit like Plato’s robes; or a “traditional fit” that is cut like I’m working at IBM in the 1960s.
There aren’t any pictures of the shirts on the site? You can guess pretty well based on how it drapes/clings to the model, no?
No. I don’t know if I’ll have a mother-in-law , because the man in Florida I’m involved with, his mother died last New Year’s Eve.
I am living with my mother, and a roommate that she invited, a friend of hers who’s very poor; but Mom never complains about not having to cook and clean up, but she does say that i use too much garlic. The roommate complains and then she never cooks dinner.
I am disappointed and unhappy that I live with my mother but i try to not be a burden. I cut the grass, shovel snow and clean the bathrooms.
I loathe driving in the rain. It rained non-stop from Knoxville to just south of Newnan; about four hours of a five and a half hour dirve.
I’m at the dentist, waiting to get a cavity filled. I haven’t had anything more complex than a cleaning in 30 years. I’m a giant, sweating, shaking baby.
Except clearly you *do *need to try these on. Collar and sleeve measurements aside, the fit of dress shirts–as you have discovered–varies widely between styles and makers. P.S., this is what it’s like *all the time *for women.
Throw something againt a wall to distract them, and while they’re investigating the noise, get yourself a lungful of nitrous.
I’m now picturing something out of Absolutely Fabulous…
Okay, Guns, I think that’s the most useful suggestion I’ve ever heard out of you…Well Done, Madame!
Hear, hear. applause Cracks me up when I hear men complaining, “Oh, I had to try these on to make sure they fit! WTF is up wid dat?”
You poor sweet thing. However did you find the strength to get through that ordeal?
Any guy who complains about actually having to try on a piece of clothing to make sure it fits, make him wait for you while you buy a new bra. Make sure he sees the hundreds of bras you bring into the fitting room to find ONE that fits properly.
ETA: Make sure he sees the $45 price tag on the one and only bra that fits properly.
$45 for a bra actually sounds reasonable to me. Which is sad.
I happen to LIKE going bra-shopping with my wife. She doesn’t let me treat her to nice things often enough.
Bra-shopping with my daughter? Not so much.
$45 for a bra sounds like a bargain. $99 for one that fits is more like it.
$99 for a bra?!? I can get all the duct tape I want from work for nothin’! That’s a $99 dollar savings. 
That sort of thing might be acceptable up in Canadia, but down here in God’s Country…
** waits for the pile-on from moral judgy-judgy types about Jimbo stealing stuff from work. **
Aaaand a hearty “fuck you” to {giant grocery chain name deleted} for completely rearranging your entire store. Not just swapping aisles, either. No, now stuff that was with X is now grouped with Y, while Z got split between hither and yon. I needed one fucking thing, something most of the other stores don’t have, and you turned what should have been a three-minute in’n’out into a twenty-minute exercise in futility and frustration. I do believe you now simply don’t carry it, and I burned my lunch break to find that out.
If you care - parchment paper. The other stores around here carry an inferior brand, and it’s essential to my (Almost) No-Knead bread recipe, the dough for which is currently rising merrily on my counter at home. I looked where it *should *be, where they *used *to keep it, plus a long shot. Bupkis.
In order: with the baking products, with the frying pans/small appliances (because for some fucking reason they keep cheesecloth next to their frying pans) and in the aisle with the waxed paper and foil. ONE of those should be it, right? So, I guess they don’t have it, and I’ll have to hunt that shit down somewhere else so I can get the bread into the oven.
It doesn’t count as stealing if you tell the site superintendent that you’re taking a roll of tape home for the missus. 
This is precisely why I am so rabidly opposed to change of any kind.
Hope you find an alternate source for your paper! 
And this is one reason why it is better to be a man.
And those stupid shirt manufacturers are trying to steal that advantage from us and make us spend minutes, and maybe even hours, trying on dress shirts. Well, screw them. I’m going to do something important, like watch football.
I have kicked out two students, so far, from my COLLEGE classroom and filed misconduct reports on them because they are rude, obnoxious, noisy, and otherwise disrespectful; they behave as if they’re in grade school.
This is the first time in two decades that I have ever booted anyone out of class.