Please stop being such a psycho control freak, stop making my friend’s life a living hell, stop being the very face of everything that gives women a bad name. I can only imagine how royally you’re fucking up your sweet little boy, but he deserves better than to have you for a mother.
If my friend manages to hold it together and not self-destruct under the weight of your constant cruelty and torment you are going to find some serious legal hellfire raining down on your filthy, misbegotten head.
Also: get yer tubes tied or something. You’ve brought enough misery into this world.
I hope your worst nightmares come true.
Signed, purplehorseshoe
I think I’ll take it to the bank today - then I guess we’ll find out for sure.
Mine was covered by Blue Cross insurance - fingers crossed for you. My rant with that is kind of petty, but when they tell me it’s 100% covered by my insurance, I expect to not pay anything, not to pay the extra $40 or whatever to make up the difference between what it costs and what Blue Cross will pay. 100% means something - it doesn’t mean “an amount that changes all the time and we won’t tell you what it is but make sure you have your wallet on you.”
I am so fucking frustrated - I discovered yesterday no income tax return was filed for last year. I had no income; so Mr. SCL was going to file a joint return for us. I remember signing it. Yesterday, I get a letter from the IRS informing me I needed to file a return.
WTF?
Then he tells me the return was “declined”.
WTF?
Why? He doesn’t know. You didn’t bother to fucking find out? I know we owe back taxes (back from when I was still working) but you still have to file, you fucking idiot.
My marriage is already in the pits, and this just may be the final straw. I am so worried I am sick to my stomach. I was up until 6am worrying about this mess and what we are going to do.
My night guard is a couple of years old now - I’m wondering if it’s the last one that will be covered now. Or maybe it’s a case of different coverage with different company plans.
Sorry to hear about that, SnakesCatLady - regular taxes are a big enough headache, never mind all the additional baggage you’re dealing with.
Update: The ten dollar bill was NOT counterfeit - it was just an older style that I guess the punk-ass kids at the Dairy Queen counter were not familiar with. I’m glad I asked for it back and got it checked by the bank - I now have a shiny new ten dollar bill that should be accepted.
This sort of raises a whole 'nother set of questions, though - do we only accept new bills when someone gives us money?
But if you want real fun, try spending one of the new gold ‘president’ dollar coins. I tried to use it at the local CVS. The cashier said they only took ‘real’ money. I insisted it was – hell, read the printing on the coin! She called over the other cashier – nope, she didn’t think it was real money either. Finally the store assistant manager actually knew what it was.
(Yes, I got stubborn and insisted they call a manager. Well, Dopers are into fighting ignorance, right?)
Something like this happened to someone I know on another message board, and she was able to file something called an “innocent spouse” affidavit or something like that, that made it mostly his problem. I don’t remember the details, but perhaps that will be enough for you to find it. Good luck!
What the hell makes some people think they’re too special to wait their turn?
I’m in a deli-style restaurant as they call numbers. Employee calls, “Serving number 12!”
Immediately someone who’s just stepped in the door shouts, “I’m number 19!”
Why didn’t you say so? Obviously you, sir, are too important to stand among the unwashed, waiting for your turn. Just shove your way past the seven of us and stand at the counter, gawking for a few minutes because you haven’t even bothered to figure out what you want before demanding you get waited on. We’ll just keep waiting.
Mr. 19 continued to shout his number every time a new number was called. Is there some train of thought that you’ll wear down the employees or make them forget how numbers run?
Many years ago I walked into a bar in the black hills and ordered a drink. It came to $3.50. I dropped down 3 dollar coins and 2 quarters. Bartender says “you owe me another $2.25.”
Um, no. Look again.
Long pause as he eyes them carefully.
“Oh, these are those new dollar coins” :dubious:
Yes, I did leave him a tip. No it wasn’t another dollar coin. I got rid of the three I had on the first drink. I gave him a $5 for the second drink.
I had a fake $5 come through the credit union a while back. It was obvious too, you could tell it was copier paper.
CatWhisperer glad your bill was legit… sometimes older style bills fail the tests used to see if a bill is fake. That’s why I cringe when I see cashiers relying on those detector pens.
So check your paperwork now. Every single time I’ve submitted a claim in the US, it was denied. Every single time, I answered citing chapter and verse of their policy and geewhiz “the check is in the mail”. Insurance is something on which you need to be your own lawyer, and the sharkiest the better.
One of my grandmothers could say “hello” in a way that made you wonder whether you had your panties outside your clothing - by the time she was explicit in her displeasure, she was royally pissed off. She once went to a new dentist which had been recommended by one of her friends; when they tried to set up the next appointment she said “oh, I’m not coming back”. “Oh, but you need…” “I need to NOT have anybody try to convert me to my own religion. Last time I checked, you Opus Dei morons weren’t a separate church, even if sometimes you behave like a devilspawned sect. Now give me the bill and shut up, young man.” She said it was bad enough that there weren’t any magazines in the waiting room, only OD pamphlets, but the levels of syrupy holyrollerness everybody working there displayed gave her goosebumps - and this is a woman who went to Mass at least once a day (she reckoned it was free entertainment, her friends and her would dissect the priest’s sermon afterwards).
I’d like to thank my fellow concert-goers for generously sharing their conversations throughout the entire show last night. Wouldn’t it be a lot cheaper for y’all just to put the a CD or DVD in your player and stay home?
purplehorseshoe, you meet Grannie, she looks at you and says " . . . hello . . . ", and her tone of voice is such that your I’m-naked-in-public id starts checking to see what the hell is wrong with you that she would be so disturbed by your appearance. Hence, probably wearing your underwear on the outside.
and I’m sorry to hear you’re dealing with so much at once.
