I pit whatever crawled into our water heater flue and died. For good measure, it seems to have peed on the water heater before it died, too. The plumber is coming today to remove the carcass from the flue. Hopefully that will get rid of the smell. P U! The critter can’t be too big, since the water heater flue isn’t that big, but from the smell, you’d think it was at least the size of a mastodon.
Mr. Neville’s cousin: When someone’s following you when you’re driving, it confuses the hell out of them if you don’t use your turn signals. Forget world peace, visualize using your turn signal.
It’s even better when you’re following someone to somewhere you don’t know, and they not only don’t use turn signals, but they drive like a bat out of hell, speeding and running every stale yellow/fresh red. Yeah, you lost me. Good job.
I suspect they go on from cheating on their glucose tolerance tests to avoiding having their kids vaccinated. It’s all part of The Man’s conspiracy to…keep them healthy?
You do not actually own the condo unit, even if you live there (which I have no idea about and don’t care to know). Therefore, you do not get to make decisions about the condo budget, repairs, or maintenance.
Now go stick your nose into someone else’s business - like your own. I have a business relationship with your girlfriend, but I did not agree to a relationship with you, business or otherwise. It was bad enough when you interfered with the contract negotiations, but now I do own the place and therefore have a say in the decisionmaking process. And you, I remind you, do not.
The proper time to do roadwork is 1 p.m. not 1 a.m. You fucking assholes. Your priority should not be to make sure that some jackass doesn’t have an extra five minutes commuting in his lousy SUV but that local residents are not disrupted by flashing lights and jackhammers well past midnight.
You fucking suck. You have ruined my goddamned peace and quiet every night last week and are apparently bent on doing so every night for the next two weeks. I am forced to take sleeping pills to get to sleep and it is all your fault, you uncivilized cunts. I hope you spend the rest of your lives listening to leafblowers under your own goddamned windows when you go to hell.
Sincerely yours,
I Hope You Get Incurable Insomnia for the Rest of Your Lives!
TO the fuckwit who stole shit out of my car last night:
FUCK YOU IN THE ASS, FUCK-HOLE!
I get in my car this morning to go to work and notice the glovebox and center console are open, some stuff strewed about. I didn’t remember looking for anything in them last night, I look in the back seat and more of my junk scattered. And my messenger bag, leather coat, and metal briefcase thingy were gone. FUCK!
Nothing was even that valuable. The coat was $150 new, and that was on 2005. The bag is about six months old, and cost like $35. The metal briefcase was probably $30? I can’t remember, it’s like six years old. There was a Nintendo DS in the bag worth about $130, along with a few games worth $30 each, and the briefcase had a bunch of my roleplaying stuf fin it…so congratulations, dirtbag, you now have a couple D&D books, a bunch of dice, and my character sheets…hope it serves you well.
Really, the DS I am most pissed about. I had just started playing with it again, and was this fucking close to beating a game. Now even if I buy a new one and that game, I have to start all over!
Oh, and I also really liked that coat. It looked fantastic on me!
Is it even worth filing a police report? They aren’t going to do jack shit…I guess on the 1% chance the catch the guy I can reclaim my stuff…
Just for that, you might get to be one of the 200 who live. If you’re willing to learn to play World of Warcraft, that will probably up your odds–I’d like to be able to keep raiding after the apocalypse.
The less-fewer distinction is pointless, my friend. More is the opposite of both, and “less” has been used since the time of King Alfred in reference to number as well as quantity. It is entirely reasonable in non-formal contexts to use “less” as I did.
I would explain further, but I have to double-check the coordinates for Anaheim. I don’t want to accidentally send the bees to the wrong city. Those suckers are expensive.
What are your normal raid times? Because I need to know whether to set the TiVo to record “The Real Housewives of the Nuclear Winter” or if I’ll be able to watch it live.
I’m starting to think that some of the people in production and inspection at my workplace are functionally illiterate. The drawing says 3 of this piece, 6 of another piece, and so forth. For each assembly, the quantity of each piece (along with lot numbers, etc.) is to be documented as part of the assembly’s paperwork. The paperwork states “record the quantity, etc. of each piece used in this assembly.” There were nine assemblies…so of course, they proceeded to record the total number of each piece required for the entire job on each individual assembly’s paper. What the hell purpose does that serve (besides creating a shit-ton of work for me)?
Oh, and speaking of work…I’d like to find the asshole who thought it would be a good idea to put games on quality’s computers. Supposedly games are not installed on company computers, but when I strolled out there today to track down one of the quality guys, I found him totally immersed in a game of classic Windows-based Solitaire. Nice to see that everyone’s doing their part around here.
Also, who decided it would be a good idea to commence destructive testing before all the test pieces arrived? That’s right – they decided to tear up something that was meant for a customer. The replacements won’t be available for months. Yay.
Pointless, schmointless. The archaic usage that was acceptable to King Alfred bothers me. I find it jarring to the brain. If “fewer” is good enough for me, it’s good enough for you.