You volunteered to do this, please fucking *do *what you volunteered to do! NOW!
Stop going fishing 7 days a week and get a fucking JOB!
Or…OR if you NEED to go fishing 7 days a week, rein it in to only posting about it once a week not 3 times a day.
ARGH!
“I don’t trust her because she’s AN EMBEZZLER.”
My father knows that’s right behind my teeth. He also knows that I’m not going to say it to a dying man.
Listen up, little boy: if you don’t stop harassing my daughter, I’m gonna make a road trip just to make you miserable. She broke up with you because you’re an insecure whiny little control freak. Months later, you haven’t changed, and you are, quite frankly, causing me a lot of worry. It will be much harder to be a stalker while you’re in traction … I’m just sayin’.
(I really, really don’t like to get overly involved in my college-aged girl’s personal business. I may have to if this shit doesn’t stop. I am way too hormonal to deal with this rationally right now.)
“I think I’m in love with you, though I might not be… I’m not sure. Either way, you affect me like only one other person in my life ever has. I wish we could turn back the clock.”
Almost everything I want to say to everyone boils down to some form of “shut up”.
I answer the phone at work. Approximately one percent of people begin by stating their business (i.e., “I need your fax number”), the other ninety-nine percent want to ask how I am (though we’ve never met), and then give me a brief history of the patient including their birthdate and what the doctor says about the case before finally asking for the fax number. Or whatever tiny scrap of information they need that could have been dealt with so much more succinctly. Do you not hear the other three lines ringing in the background? Get to the fucking point! Don’t they teach this in school or something? Well, they should.
Then there’s the co-workers who want to chitter-chat, when it’s plain we’re all up to our asses in alligators. “Is it Friday yet?” “I’m so tired!” “Hot enough for ya?” Fuck off, you banal bitch!
Then there is the very special case of the lady up the hall. I’m giving serious consideration to writing her an anonymous letter, since it is plain that her parents never taught her how to modulate her voice. It’s very high-pitched at the best of times, and she has a squeal that could shatter glass, which she thinks is appropriate to use at least nine times a day. “Oh HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” “CAWFEE?!” “OH MY GAWWWWWWWWWWD!” Does she not notice everyone flinching when she speaks? Things toppling off desks? Car alarms starting out in the parking lot? Animals fleeing?
Shut up, shut up, shut up!
“Wow, those are really great tits.”
Right? Mine was “Hey, thanks for bragging to me about the trashy, poorly done matching tattoos you and your girlfriend got when you owe me $700 and claim that you’re so damn ‘broke’ all the time, you fucking asshole.” Except I really did say that and then I wrote off the money and considered myself down one brother.
Oh, here’s some more (not directed at the same people)
“It bothers me that your pets have become more important to you than pretty much anything else in your life.”
“I find you amazingly sexy, and want to do things with you that would be illegal in some states, and leave you completely, if pleasurably, worn-out for days.”
Yes, your loved one was a police officer. However, he died in bed with his girlfriend. He did not “die a hero” no matter how much you want to pretend.
Committing suicide when you are upset with your exwife is not an admirable action.
Those tattooed-on eyebrows are hideous. HIDEOUS!!!
Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! <<<<<Here’s a few, apply as needed.
Someday my inner Fashion Police is going to become my outer Fashion Police and I will find myself saying out loud:
“In no universe does that skirt go with that top.”
“Wearing clothes–and underclothes–two sizes too small does *not *make you look sexy, or thinner.”
“Pull your goddam pants up.”
“A sparkly little cocktail dress? On your way *to *work? At 8:00 a.m.? Really?”
“Get your damn roots touched up, you have a 2”-wide stripe down your part."
That one made me feel queasy. Fortunately, I don’t shout. At least, not if you don’t shout first, and then it won’t be in your ear.
Ooo. Fun team building exercise! Impossible scavenger hunt! On the list: Co-worker’s inside voice.
To my coworker: Dude, what is that and why does it look like a rusty dildo?
(it’s some sort of pipe, but every time I see it…)
“No, I don’t care about your baby. I’m hoping it will die and you will be rendered infertile.”
You are a totally unforgiving person, and I will never forgive you for that!
“No! I did not have a good childhood like you ‘prayed I would,’ you freaking bitch. When you gave me up you threw me into the jaws of hell.” To my biological mother who was dying of cancer when I met her so I couldn’t say it.
To the lady who runs the cash register who draws eyebrows on her forehead, but whose natural eyebrows are still there underneath, Thank You! It gives me a good laugh everytime I go pick up my medicine.
To the parent of one of my students: If you don’t get help for the anger issues now, you will regret it when he’s too big to remove from the situation.
Regarding modern eyebrows - what I want to say to a lot of modern women is, "Why do you hate your eyebrows so much that you’d do THAT to them?"
(I suspect that picture should have a warning on it for Eve. 
)
Someday when my filter quits filtering, I will happily join your Fashion SWAT Team. We’ll have to be on cable TV, after ten p.m., with “mature audience” warnings, thanks to the probability for blunt language and violence.
“You. Immediate supervisor. Stop being useless. And answer your fucking calls the first time we call you, not the third.”
“When my nose is in a book, that means I DON’T WANT TO TALK TO YOU. Bugger off.”
“Will you all stop being stupid little brats for one fucking second?”
“Your way of doing things is stupid, inefficient, paranoid, and insane. Also, stop treating me like a five-year-old or I will start acting like one.”
“I have nothing but contempt for you.”