My peeve at the moment is that I have jury duty tomorrow, and they won’t let me bring my knitting to the courthouse. A knitting needle is not that frickin’ dangerous, especially if it’s the circular kind I always use. I could see banning the old fashioned metal stick type, but I’m not gonna hurt anyone with a one of these. Has anyone ever been assaulted with a circular knitting needle? But yet, I’ll likely be allowed to bring my hardback copy of “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix”, and tell me you couldn’t do some serious damage to someone with that thing!
I’m really pissed at hearing the six soldiers who tortured a litter of kittens only received a $2,000 fine and community service.
story.
Lay chickenwire flat on the ground for several feet on either side of the fence. Grass will grow up through the holes so it’s not obvious, but he won’t be able to dig through it. Well, I suppose he could dig a ten-foot tunnel and make it out, but it’s highly unlikely.
The bathroom habits of the women in my building. I just went into the danger zone, and the stench was overwhelming. It wasn’t a poopy stench either.
What the fuck did you put in the trash can?! I don’t even know how its possible to produce that kind of smell, and then have it be strong enough to hit me full force right when I step into this fairly large bathroom.
And how the fuck do you manage to sprinkle all around the seat? I mean, I can maybe see how its possible to miss a little, but c’mon woman, all around the entire seat?! Its like you purposely waited until you were mid-pee, then raised to a hover, and moved in a circular motion around the seat. Is it really that difficult?!
Two-facedness.
This just happened today.
Part-time woman who is working on stuff (to boss): Do you want me to make those changes.
Boss: Yeah, go ahead. (Boss exits room leaving me and psycho girl)
PTWWIWOS (with venom last seen in the Exorcist) and over her shoulder to me: Those fuckers don’t know who they’re dealing with…treat me like a bag of shit…I’m tired of their fucking petty bullshit…I’ll fucking slap her glasses off her head
Me: Yeah, fine…just move that picture to where you think it needs to go…I’m cool with whatever works for you… (backing away slowly)
Fast forward about five minutes; boss (who is a nice lady) back in the room.
PTWWIWOS (to boss): I think I’m about done here, but I feel like I’m leaving you in the lurch. Are you sure you don’t have anything else for me to do?
I mean, I understand aggravation and all, but that is ridiculous
Posters who write “I didn’t read the whole thread but I think. . .”.
Hey, let’s not pay attention to anything anybody has to say but instead brag about how lazy we are and then talk out of our asses because we have no idea what everyone else is talking about. Sounds like a plan.
Morons who show up for a meeting, talk out of their ass and fuck up the project, followed by a meeting FIVE HOURS LATER in which they ask that the information they inserted in the document FIVE HOURS EARLIER be removed because it’s unclear and they don’t understand what it means. Make up your fucking mind, douchebag.
Trivial? Ok. Here goes…
Yesterday I bought a fresh pair of swim goggles for the pool – the old ones were shot since chlorine eats up the band in short order (especially if you leave them on the bottom of the pool like a bozo). I found a nice comfortable pair of Nike goggles that had a better quality strap and better quality seals than the other ones I normally buy. They weren’t really pricy at all: $14.
I put them on when I got home, with the intent of swimming, and then my wife immediately called me in for lunch, so I set them on the dining table while I ate and promptly forgot about them.
This morning when I entered the kitchen I saw a pair of ratty looking goggles on the floor and promptly dismissed them as a pair of some kid’s old goggles.
Sadly, these were my brand-new goggles – our cat had chewed the strap to shreds, severing it in the center and tearing it everywhere else, making it impossible to even consider half-assed fixes like tying the remaining ends into a knot.
No real big deal, but it kind of frosts my cookies knowing that that dumb animal calmly disposed of $14 and I can’t do a thing about it – it’s not like he knows what he did. I never had a chance to use them!
What’s bugging me right now is that I still have cramps from a bout with a stomach virus for the past 48 hours (upside - I lost 15 pounds over the past 2 days from being sick so often), and I can’t eat solid food yet because it hurts so bad, even though I haven’t had solid food for two days, and I’m fucking starving. Also, my right calf is starting to twitch and ache, which means that at some point tonight while I’m sleeping, I’m going to wake up with agonizing muscle spasms in my calf and will have to eventually stuff my pillow in my mouth to prevent myself from screaming in intense pain. It’s weird - whenever that happens, my calf muscle balls up, and you can see the muscle jumping and twitching, looking like it’s going to burst the skin. It’d be fascinating if it didn’t hurt so fucking much. So, I’m kind of not looking forward to going to sleep, but staying up to avoid it will make it much worse when I finally do fall asleep.
It sucks that I only found out from a colleague last week that there is a full time position I can apply for where we work; that I don’t know where I’m going to scrape up three letters of recommendation with the deadline for the application being July 2; that I had been sick for the first two weeks of June and then my mom wound up in the ER, necessitating my becoming errand girl/chauffeur/nurse (I don’t resent her, just the timing) and that it’s taken up a lot of time and energy that I would like to expend on other matters; and then my car started puking smoke and I had to take it into the shop.
Why does shit have to happen all at once?
I’ve had hiccups FOR THREE FUCKING DAYS.
I have gallstones. My doctor was supposed to get my file from the ER in which I was diagnosed so he could review and refer me to a surgeon.
That was last week. No word yet and I’m almost out of vicodin. I can’t eat. I can’t really sleep that well. My plecostomos starved to death because my brother said, “eh, you don’t really have to wait to get one…” and I believed him. I bounced a check. I’M FUCKING HUNGRY, and no one ever comments on my LJ.
:mad:
Sunday my sister is celebrating her birthday in Orlando (an hour away from me-much more if I get lost on the way) and my friend was looking forward to taking me to a shooting tournament. I planned on going to my sister’s B-day party instead, but I figured I could possibly have time for both. Just got to ask for the day off at work. So I did and my manager said “Sorry, schedule is already made, you should have asked for the day off sooner. I’m pretty sure I marked you down for Sunday.” Already done? I thought she said that she wrote up the schedules on Tuesday or Thursday, and for us to ask for days off before then.
Today was Tuesday.
I ask a co-worker about this and she thought it was way too soon for the schedule to have been made. So later I ask if I can look at the schedule. “Why?!” she asks loudly and suspiciously. “Because I want to know what days I work” says I. “Oh…well it’s not done. I still need to go over it a few times and make some changes”. Oh ok. So you can’t give me a Sunday off because it’s already set in stone, but I can’t even look at it because it’s not finished? What the fuck? I know I’m new here but in the 8 hour orientation I took to get my job it was said several times that I was to ask if I wanted a day off, and that my company had an open door policy. Plus, I’ve filled in for more than my fair share of people who have gotten sick or failed to show up. I’m a very good reliable worker, so please, give me the fucking Sunday off and let me celebrate my sister’s birthday. This really grates my nerves.
also…
I have less than a quarter of my gas tank in my Jimmy full, and no money at all to fill it up untill Thursday. My paycheck will be very very small, and with it, I need to buy more clothes, pet food, gas, me food, and my mom will want some money from me so I can help pay the bills.
Wensday or Thursday. Damn you lack of edit button!
I’m pissed of cos I’ve pretty much wasted this semester, I didn’t get a payrise cos I’m too scruffy, I keep skipping psych appointments with Student Health and I can’t seem to convince myself to go.
And I’ve been drinking for a few hours. Not only am I pissed off, I’m also pissed. :rolleyes:
The passenger “airbag off” warning light in my truck is just a leetle too bright. Distracting. I mean fuck, what can I do about it? The airbag is set to activate only when a weight sensor in the psgr seat senses someone sitting there. Fine, it’s off. Nobody is sitting there anyway. Who cares?
I would want a light that bright to warn me when a wheel was about to fall off, or if the engine were about to sieze up.
Oh, the humanity!
I didn’t read the whole thread but… 
Damn my neighbour for being a showoff jackass. My neighbour who decided to have a prom party Monday night. With a live band. On the front lawn. With 8-foot speakers*. When I had to get up 7am tuesday morning for work.
The first part of the party wasn’t too bad, they played cds and the music wasn’t too loud. Somethign to listen to while I go to sleep.
Got woken up at 1am by the band. The band wasn’t even that good, either (which I hate to say, because for all I know it could be the band my uncle is in). There was no way I could get back to sleep before they stopped playing at 2am, it was just too loud.
And then, during one of the breaks, someones car alarm went off. Plus, by this point, everyone was quite drunk, and were yelling and screaming.
And fuck me for not being able to get to sleep easily, or sleep soundly. I heard Dad snoring from across the hall. I have no idea how he does it.
*May or may not be actual size of speakers, but damn it was loud!
There is a classic thread around here somewhere about (IIRC) some guy playing the trumpet much to the annoyance of a poster who was trying to sleep. I think it was called, How far will a trumpet go up a man’s ass? or some such.
Just be glad it wasn’t a Sousaphone. 
Okay…first to the OP, I want to first clarify and explain that I’m not making a personal attack here, or purposely trying to be a jerk (much love to you and all that, really)…so, since you’re asking…my two cents…
“Piddling” thing:
Main Entry: pid·dle
Pronunciation: 'pi-d&l
Function: intransitive verb
Inflected Form(s): pid·dled; pid·dling /'pid-li[ng], 'pi-d&l-i[ng]/
Etymology: origin unknown
1 : DAWDLE, PUTTER
2 : URINATE
The idiom “piddly” (meaning tiny or small) would’ve made more sense, IMO.
“griping”:
Main Entry: 1gripe
Pronunciation: 'grIp
Function: verb
Inflected Form(s): griped; grip·ing
Etymology: Middle English, from Old English grIpan; akin to Old High German grIfan to grasp, Lithuanian griebti
transitive senses
1 archaic : SEIZE, GRASP
2 a : AFFLICT, DISTRESS b : IRRITATE, VEX
3 : to cause pinching and spasmodic pain in the bowels of
intransitive senses
1 : to experience gripes
2 : to complain with grumbling
- grip·er noun
Something cannot be “griping” someone (gripping maybe, but not “griping”). Someone can be actively “griping” at someone. And someone can be “griping” about something (see “to complain with grumbling”).
I am griping about the piddly issue of the misuse of those two words in the OP.
(Of course “we all knew what the OP meant” could be said here, but if my examples are in error, please do let me know. As I said, it’s a piddly issue (that’s what the OP was asking for, afterall) and not meant to be a mean-spirited criticism of the OP).
Moving on…
The trend around here of Americans using decidedly British terms and phrases, and such, which seems BEYOND pretentious when used by non-British folk. IMHO. YMMV.
People with entitlement issues.
I’m mildly annoyed by callers who ask me to spell our street name (at work)…Pasadena. I say “like the city in California”. They say “could you spell it”. :smack: (Have they never heard of the city? Or seen it spelled out anywhere? A sign, a map, on television, somewhere? And I know there’s an old song “Little Old Lady from Pasadena” as well. Sheesh!)
One last thing…Asterion…good luck with that cute girl!! Create a thread if you think you’d like to get some Doper ideas on ways to ask this girl out…but I say just be yourself and do it! 
For fuck’s sake!! (because it IS the Pit)
Whew.
Bit of an anxious moment when the first thread returned in a vanity search is titled “What piddling thing is griping you at the moment?”