Something bit me several times on the front of the neck a few days ago, leaving red lumps, and now they itch. I have tried tea tree oil, antibiotic ointment, and calamine lotion. Still itching! Now what?
The rancid is from the fat getting stale.
Glad your kitteh is okay.
To the asshole that stole my extension ladder: crack is a helluva drug, isn’t it?
To the teatarded: Fuck you for embarrassing my country. Fuck you for your fourth-grade understanding of finance. Fuck you for forcing a last-minute deal which nobody wanted on an issue that should not have been politicized in the first place. Fuck you for your blind insistence that tax increases are a de facto evil. Fuck you for being birthers, the dumbest conspiracy theory since the Dubya/Kerry/Skull and Bones conspiracy of '04. Just fuck the lot of you and do us all a favor: crawl back into that trailer where you belong for that Coors-fueled ass-whipping (just like Daddy used to give) that you so richly deserve.
To the people who wear short-shorts, mini skirts, rock-band branded t-shirts, halter tops, baggy-fall-off-the-ass-shorts to church and to Broadway shows. WTF is wrong with you? It’s fucking church! It’s a fuckin’ Broadway show! Is it going to fucking kill you to wear slacks and a golf shirt? A dress or a skirt? I appreciate the move to casual as much as the next person, but Jesus bloody Christ, one shouldn’t dress like a whore or a gangsta when going to church.
WTF Android/Sprint/Samsung/Google/Gmail/Whoever??? I take a bunch of photos with my phone. I try to email them to my wife through the phones Gmail client. However, the pictures apparently decide when they want to go… over the past two days I’ve somehow whittled my Gmail Outbox (stuff that hasn’t been sent yet) from 105 to 46, but it’s been a bitch to do so. However, the first time I did this, I sent 55 pictures with no problem. WTF???
Okay, so this is a micromini rant but I was at the store yesterday and the girl at the register said:
Her: Could you swipe your card please and thank you.
Me: Actually, you should wait until I’ve completed the request before you say thank you.
Her: Huh.
Me (wishing I had not opened my mouth): You can’t thank me for something I haven’t done.
Her: Huh.
Seriously, do you KNOW what ‘thank you’ means? Is it lost on you?
(And, yes, I am anal.)
Did you say stupid cat? 
(NSFW - language)
When I was new to cat owning, I got my cat a big ole bag of food, and she kept not eating it after a while. I got her a fresh bag, and she gained like two pounds overnight. Sorry, kitty - I didn’t know that dry food went bad, either. I buy their dry food in smaller bags now.
My micromini-rant is at the store clerks who tell me to turn the card around when I swipe it the wrong way first (because those pictographs are less than useless) - I’m smart enough to figure that out myself! GAH! (Yes, I know, there are a lot of people out there who aren’t smart enough; it just irritates me to be told to do something I’m already doing.)
Oh, that is priceless! Thank you, that really got a laugh.
Yeah, I’d been buying the larger bags because the price per ounce was lower, but it saves me no money if he turns his nose up at it, and that’s aside from him worrying me and having a vet visit. Oddly, he’s never done that before on this size bag, but then, we’ve had hotter than normal weather. Even if the bathroom I keep the kibble in IS the coldest room in the house (unless it’s winter, when it’s the room I go to to thaw), there’s no telling what’ll happen, especially since this year I’ve opened up anytime the outside temp got to below 85F.
HA! Stupid cat made me laugh, which scared my - well - stupid cats.
I have been having internet connectivity problems for the past few days. Even beyond the NetMotion crap noted above. I would have to reset the modem, reset the router, spin three times counter clockwise while holding a glass of gnome piss and pray to the gods that I would be able to maintain connectivity so I could, you know, work.
Finally, I called my ISP. After waiting and waiting and waiting and confirming I did have the modem plugged in, confirming my phone line is active (gah), the tech person decided I really did need a new modem. They’d mail one out.
That won’t work, I need one so I can work. Can I go trade this one out (cuz yeah, I rent the stupid thing) or can one of your lovely guys in a van drop one off? Sure, if I want to drive 50 miles to my nearest store. OR I could (cue doom music) go to Best Buy and trade it out there. She gave me a nifty purchase order number and everything.
Of course BestBuy had NO idea what I was talking about. I ended up buying a damn modem - not in the budget, but necessary. I hate BestBuy. Seriously. I was nigh on interrogated when I entered the store, modem in hand. “What is that? Why are you bringing it in? I need to see it.” Whatever. When I left the same guy wanted to know why I still had the modem in my hand, what was in the bag, why didn’t I exchange it like said I was going to do. BECAUSE I COULDN’T!
Finally get back up and running. Whee. I’m now going to be working late due to missing hours to resolve all of this. On the plus side, I no longer am renting a modem AND the ISP is reimbursing me the cost of the new one.
And while all this was happening? DishNetwork crapped out.
I do believe I will be drinking tonight.
Do you have a blender that can make milk shakes?
Take several scoops of vanilla ice cream (the real stuff, mind). Add milk. Add Bailey’s Irish Creme. Spin. Drink. Smile.
Hey, thanks company!
You’re too fucking cheap to print our PTO on our paychecks, and our bosses have zero ability to tell us how much we have without putting in a request. (Any wonder why we don’t trust that you’re being honest with us about how much we have?)
You don’t schedule enough people on Saturdays to allow people to take the day off. Except when you decide you will do this, which only appears to be in effect for Favorites.
You have been caught deliberately fucking with people in regards to approving vacations. Denying it for certain non-favorites for a given time period saying there are no available days, then later giving those days off to favorites on less notice. (One guy asked 7 months in advance, was told no. Asked again 3 months in advance, was told no. Then a Favorite asked for the same days 2 weeks in advance and was given them.)
Last time you pulled this on me, denying four vacation requests in a row, I put you under the gun by deliberately asking for days I knew that you would deny, then threatening to speak to corporate HR about it if they were denied. Lo and Behold, they were APPROVED!
Any wonder why no one trusts you motherfuckers? It would be because we KNOW FROM EXPERIENCE that you’re fucking us over and have multiple episodes as proof that you are not playing it straight.
Ok, so I’ve put in two requests in three weeks, both denied. Today I specifically as “what days will be approved” and ask for them. If you won’t tell me, or deny me again, it is straight to corporate HR time again.
Pitting the world, or something.
Grandma is visiting my aunt. On Tuesday, she told the Roomba “go over the carpet again, it’s not clean yet!” She was serious. This is starting to be way over her usual wronginnahead and into senile country.
My cousin, who has the imagination of a half-brick and the sensitivity of the acompanying sweaty sock, recently had to enter the flat under Grandma’s. That flat (unlike Grandma’s) has been completely redone. Now cousin wants dibs on Grandma’s flat - whether she intends to flip it or to redo it and sell the one she has three blocks away, I don’t know, but if she hadn’t seen the other one she would have been perfectly happy to let me have it. Damnit. I’m not getting into a price war with that bitch. Yes, we’re already splitting the inheritance and the old woman still breathes, hell with it - by Spanish law (except Navarra and Euskadi, as usual), if her daughters hadn’t voluntarily given up on their rights, that flat would already belong to them, not her.
There was a room in my house I needed to paint. I gave it one coat but, since Mom had told me she’d be coming by the first two weeks in August, it was only one coat, clean up, replace furniture, hurry hurry. She hasn’t come, which means I’ve just finished the second coat - but the reason she hasn’t come is that her intestinal troubles have gotten to the point where she doesn’t dare get into a car for the hour and a half it would take to drive here from her house. We’re seeing the gastro on Wednesday, wedged ahead of any waiting lists by a surgeon who says this kind of problems can be solved by surgery and that he’ll be sharpening his knives - but needs the gastro’s go-ahead before he can operate (the surgeon is Mom’s physical therapist’s husband).
The Nephew is having surgery on Tuesday. I offered to take some hospital shifts, was told no. Yesterday my brother called me about something else and realized I am on vacation. Gee, bro, it would be nice if you ever heard a word I say! I have been granted permission to come visit the kid in the hospital, but barely.
Other than that, I can’t imagine why I feel like I have a toothache, minus the pain.
I bought what is essentially a large rubbermaid container from the pet store and it’s made a huge difference in how fresh their food is. I can always tell because Kaia will stop eating when there is even the slightest hint that her food isn’t perfect.
Geez, can’t they use some of the money they’re stealing from people to hire a decent English translator?
Yep. This is what I keep my cats’ food in.
I have a UTI. I haven’t had a UTI in years. Ok, which one of you’s started a thread about UTI’s and crap?? Huh???
So, August is UTI month, eh? That sucks. I suppose it’s better than Rape Month, though.
Ooooooh. When’s Rape Month?
hides under sofa; shoves out cat
This year I think it was Jan - Mar
Got dumped yesterday. Probably deserves a full rant, but after the drinking and the crying and the full-body hangover today, mini’s all I have energy for.
Three years, man.
I took myself out for a coffee this morning as a little treat after a long week. Nice relaxing stroll through the sunshine to the coffee place, got a coffee and a paper. Nice relaxing stroll home, aren’t the trees pretty?
And then walking up my driveway I dropped the coffee and it spilled all over my pants and shoes.
Just, dang.