Oh I know that feeling. One of the companies I work for routinely asks us to work very last minute. I’ve been asked to potentially work tomorrow. I won’t know if I’m actually working until later today.
Bosses who can’t tell the difference between workers and puppets on a string deserve to have only puppets for workers.
Nope.
But they’d like that - they deserve something more like flaming hemorrhoids. Like, flames actually shooting out of their asses.
(((Runestar)))
(((Smokey)))
(((Rachellelogram)))
If this was a just world I would be able to reach through the internet and shake someone until my arms were tired or their head fell off.
If you say you’ll do something, just do it. On time and in a manner slightly more than half-assed, please.
Apparently my cable company doesn’t like the WB - either that or they’ve got a colander and tin can they use for the satellite pickup rather than something a bit more sophisticated since going on 2 years now, every time there’s even the hint of bad weather, whenever I try to record something off of channel 11, like Supernatural, it looks like I’m trying to intercept a pirate broadcast from Somalia. I mean wtf guys? Sure I can get it off the interwebz and fortunately I know how to do it w/o your then turning around and hitting me with some bullshit DCMA violation (fuck you very much btw), but still, that’s some serious bullshit right there. I’d complain but you have me well trained by this point.
Time for my annual Halloween rant - every single Halloween decoration we have has multiple batteries (of all different sizes, of course), and every single one has the batteries locked up behind a screwed-in plate. Just a snap-lock isn’t good enough - you never know when those batteries are going to try to make a break for it!
On the plus side, though, our disco skull looks FABULOUS! 
I met with a grief counselor on Monday evening, to talk over how I’ve been handing things since Other Shoe’s death, what’s happening next etc etc. She was quite helpful. However, I’ve been so overwhelmed physically, emotionally, and … uh … however else one can be overwhelmed … that I just realized, only this morning, that Monday was
supposed to be my wedding anniversary.
Upon reflection, it’s, ah, probably good that it didn’t know it at the time.
Oh hon, I am so sorry.
Happy bittersweet anniversary.
You’re right of course.
Can someone please help me find a contact number for Glenn Beck I’ve gotten three pre-recorded messages from his fucking organization in two days. The website is no help. Fucking asshole. I swear you could probably sneak up behind him, yell socialist and scare the hell out of his tiny dick and tinier brain.
Why call when you can summon him. Buy a deep fried twinkie and bury at a crossroads at midnight during a full moon while reciting the lyrics from “We Built This City.”
Huh. I thought it somehow involved chanting “Gold. Gold. Gold” while crying and doing something else I can’t remember.
Wouldn’t that be how one would summon William Devane?
Waste of a perfectly good deep fried Twinkie, if you ask me.
Thanks, LavenderBlue. Cooks Illustrated arrived in the mailbox today; damn good thing (for once) that none of the recipes would have particularly appealed to him, or I woulda really lost it.
This morning while I was putting on my belt, Maggie leapt up and buried her claws in my leg trying to play with it. Completely off the ground. Thankfully my jeans absorbed most of it, but it still hurt like hell. This evening, she leapt up and buried her claws in my left arm while I was sitting at the computer, trying to get my attention.
The resulting situation, including her fighting me every step of the way (and losing) while I trimmed her nails, was not pleasant for either one of us. 
I guess this was her first hard lesson in “Don’t hurt your Human”.
Well, looks like it’s my turn to complain about insurance screw ups. Despite already receiving confirmation that my “follow up: wound check” visit to the ER was legit and paid, today I received notice that the injury that sent me to the ER in the first place is “not deemed an emergency” and therefore insurance won’t pay.
:rolleyes: I know there was a screw up in coding or something. How do you deem the follow up visit ER-worthy, but not the original injury? I’m also :rolleyes: because our insurance is through Suburban Plankton’s work. He works for the medical foundation that owns the hospital and they self-insure. You’d think they could get it right when it’s all within the same company.
I so have all my original ER paper work as well as photos of the injsury, so I’m can certainly make my case should it come to that. Just a pain in the butt.
We started emigrating earlier this year, which among other things involved putting our house up for sale. Sadly, we ignored our gut instinct and went with the wrong agent in the first instance. Once the contract with them was up, we switched to the agent we should gave chosen in the first place, but it meant we had pretty much 4 months of wasted time - no offers, repeated price reductions and so on. So now it’s October, we’re living in Singapore but still paying the mortgage on the UK house. We spent all our savings getting here, so we’re stuck with no capital - until the house sells we can’t afford the ludicrous upfront sum my daughter’s school wants us to pay, which means she’s stuck at home with me, which means I can’t get a job at the moment.
Last week we accepted an offer -100 grand less than our agent had told us we’d get for the house back in March, but hey ho, it’s only worth what someone will pay for it, so I can live with that. These are the perfect buyers though - they have cash to buy, so no mortgage, plus they want to be in by the end of October which is fantastic for us. The light is shining bright at the end of the tunnel.
Yeah, that’s cos it’s a TRAIN. Turns out the bastards had exaggerated their position, and hadn’t completed on their own sale at all. Yesterday their buyers pulled out. We’re essentially back on the market - no buyer, no end in sight, no change. God, I hate this. This is absolutely the most stressful thing I’ve ever been through - and I include 3 years of infertility, marriage and divorce with an abusive alcoholic and the death of both parents. I’m paralysed by stress over this - all I can see is the weeks my 6 year old daughter isn’t getting at school, the bills piling up, the way we just can’t move on or settle in here until its done. Hate it. Hate that I can’t change it.
TLDR - buyers pulled out of my house sale, it sucks.
Heard from my step-daughter. Completely serious.
I don’t use my rear view mirrors because they just confuse me. When I turn on my blinker people better just get out of my way.
Modern attitude (that really goes along with large vehicles) - what’s going on behind me doesn’t matter.
However, someone who is confused by rear view mirrors needs to not be driving. It’s a skill that they aren’t capable of.
+infinity. Too many self-centered idiots who couldn’t care less about whether they harm others out there. Sounds like she doesn’t give a [bleep] if her antics cause traffic fatalities, just so long as The Princess is not inconvenienced by the need to learn fundamental driving skills.
:eek: