Yes, I am not helping him. I decided it quite firmly last night. I haven’t decided if I plan to play innocent like above or just flat out be like “I don’t have time. I can’t help you. Call the real estate agent, it’s her job.”
Inlaws: Why the fuck are we having Easter brunch at your parents’ house? Your dad will insist on cooking. Did we forget about the previous Easter he hosted, with him leaving the shrimp platter in the blazing sun in their front window for a few hours? Thank one BIL for whisking it into the kitchen and my husband for carefully tucking the remaining shrimp into the garbage.
Your parents are now in their 80s. Your mom has Alzheimer’s disease, so at least she won’t remember your dad screaming at her for very long. Your dad alternates between good cooking and risking all of our lives with his food handling habits, and he’s really slowing down now. He also tends to be more of an asshole than normal when he’s juggling cooking for a group, not to mention distractible - Christmas Eve he was telling tales to his granddaughters’ fiances and didn’t notice MIL’s blood sugar was low; good thing her kids did.
We’d been going out for Easter dinner before - why the change? I liked being able to eat dinner rather than lightly picking at the “special” food that he makes a big presentation out of having made for the vegetarian at their table (and I bet it pissed him off that his only grandson went veg too), and having to eat before or after.
Hm. I must not hang around the right crowd. I have been in Jersey for decades and never heard this strange pronunciation of the word.
I thought that, when I first moved here. Lorikeets and their bigger cousins cockatoos, I now know, are flying evil.
I have a tree out front that attracts lorikeets in their 100s. They talk and squabble at dawn. And they shit. They shit EVERYWHERE. Gah! Did you know a cockatoo, in addition to S C R E A M I N G at dusk and dawn, will also eat your house? No shit, they will EAT your fucking HOUSE. Not cool!
Plus, I was at the State Library of NSW and I was at the cafe on a warm summer day, having a sandwich and minding my own business. Two gorgeous lorikeets landed on the table. One came and started cooing at me, and climbed up my arm. I was enchanted! Wild lorikeets! The one on my arm let me pat it.
Then the other fucker stole my sandwich.
Then the one on my arm tried to bite me and flew off to join it’s mate, while they ate my stolen lunch.
My heart hardened that day, oh yes it did. :mad:
I think it is - she’s a young-ish, very fashionable lady, and it smells strongest when she first comes in and wears off throughout the day. I think it’s just a really, really bad perfume - it smells like honey and pee.
I’m kind of in awe of them. 
Two things occurred to me today - the first is wondering why Canadians have such a frigging hard time using the required date format, even when THE DATE FORMAT IS PRINTED RIGHT THERE ON THE FORM (D/M/Y is understandable for anyone who is capable enough to be out in public on their own, isn’t it?).
The second is that I really don’t like the look of guys who have long hair and don’t trim the fuzzy neck hair that you can see when they put it up. Ick.
Damn. They’re better organized than seagulls. Seagulls move in a flock, but they certainly don’t team up to snatch sandwiches.
We were talking about websites that require zip codes from everyone just the other day here - I just did an online survey, and after noting my country as Canada, it then proceeded to ask me for my five digit zip code. :rolleyes: Then afterwards it was looking for my state and city. :rolleyes: :rolleyes: (My zip code was 90210 and my state and city were Calgary, California. 
)
Pinche PowerPoint!
It’s 11 at night and I can hear jackhammers outside my house.
There is a traffic light about fifty yards from my driveway, and there are now big machines rumbling by, tearing up the old blacktop and preparing the new.
I keep hearing the “beep beep beep” of the back-up alarms on various pieces of construction equipment.
The other night the jackhammering started at about 3AM.
Right now I can hear three different vehicles beeping at once.
:mad:
I understand why they do road work at night but I didn’t think they did it in residential areas. You have my complete sympathy.
I see you’re in New Jersey. This is apparently common and disgusting behavior in our state unfortunately.
You have my sympathies.
They did the exact same thing to me last year at the end of our block during the same evening time frame. I could literally hear the jackhammers and the beep beep beeps for hours late at night. I was essentially told tough shit and buy earplugs by the police, the power company and my local mayor’s office. Any official who authorizes such behavior should be subject to the sounds of a thousand car alarms going off all at once for a month.
I have no idea why the fuck our evil state officials allow this to happen.
Followup: Thank god, one of my sisters-in-law is coming to town on Sunday to take them out to eat and talk them out of it. My husband and I are going along as backup.
Sounds like someone overdid the musk.
I’m tired of the mother-fucking snow all over my mother-fucking car! It’s april! In Southern California! Nobody ordered snow!
I did. It must have been delivered to the wrong address. Do me a solid and send it over?
Sure. Fed-Ex or USPS?
-
Every Friday morning I go to the newsstand, pick up the morning paper, take it to the cashier, lay it on the counter, and hold out my hand with three quarters in it. Every Friday morning the same woman asks me “Just the paper?”
No, I was hoping to see what else you’d give me for seventy-five cents. -
Bought some dishes on eBay – my grandmother’s pattern. Out of production for 50+ years. Seller packs them carefully in three big boxes. Two delivered yesterday, plus a form saying they couldn’t deliver the third without a signature.
Post office broke a vegetable dish. I have to go pick up the third box tomorrow and see what else they broke before I file a claim. :mad:
This is actually reassuring. It must then only be New Jersey Reality t.v. ‘Stars’ and Anaamika’s SIL who then say Bubies.
Ah, musk - that must be it. Man, it smells really, truly awful - like eau de full catbox.
Here. Print out this list, cross off the one you live in and tell him to take his pick. 