I swear to god, it’s like my mother is TRYING to turn us into the next-generation version of her mother and her younger sister… who moved 2,000 miles away and never looked back.
If you don’t need all four numbers, why don’t you cancel some of them? And if you need all four, why are you bitching about getting four times as much crap? It would seem to me to be par for the course.
Actual lines from an HOA’s meeting minutes:
“Our garage sell is scheduled for …”
“The issue of house colors was raised again as there appears to be two pallets in …”
My head and my heart both hurt now - the fact that I have to handle documents like this makes my job suck even more than it already does.
Plus, the A/C in our building went out this week, and after two days of warm, stale, muggy, dog-breath air, they got it fixed. Now it’s FREEZING in here.
Maybe they have so many color palettes that they need entire pallets to hold all the swatches. Or is that just unpalatable?
When the revolution comes, you are going to be first against the wall.
That sounds hot.
The extra numbers are bundled with features that I do want.
ETA: I could go a-la-carte to get just the features that I want, but that would cost me more.
Couldn’t you just personally consider three of the numbers to be non-operational? I.e., don’t give the numbers to anyone and route them to jacks with no phones or with phones with the ringers silenced?
Curiously enough a post from the Dope that had the good fortune to fall through a time warp from a thousand years in the future defined Shot from Guns as “The first against the wall when the revolution came”
Splattering likwid shitz, I haz dem. :eek:
It was only a milkshake, FFS!
Welcome to lactose intolerance. Stock up on some lactase pills and you’ll be fine.
Whee! Some time this afternoon I get to go get my mother from the emergency room.
I love phone calls that start with “can you come get me at the hospital later?”
It would appear she collapsed at Costco, and the paramedics were rather insistant she go with them.
I am hopeful that she was honest with the medical staff, and revealed the likely reason for her collapse - the EXTREMELY restrictive diet she is currently on. I have a funny feeling she won’t tell them though… (for lunch Wednesday she had an apple and two pieces of melba toast. That is a snack, not a meal. I was with her for 5 hours, and that’s all she ate.)
Sigh.
Normally not a huge deal, but with two small children in tow, and trying to get the house ready for the 40 people I’m having over tomorrow for breakfast it’s a bit of a pain.
Unless of course there’s something really wrong and she gets admitted and I’m a total asshole for feeling put out.
Well, the air’s back on, but the guy who normally processes the newspapers is out so I had to do it. A hundred and fucking nine of them! I didn’t finish until 4!
Look, New York. You keep telling us how busy and shit you are. So either you’re the lyingest city in the world or nobody reads that motherfucking Sunday paper. Which isn’t even anywhere near in order!
Coworkers:
Stop being “helpful” by trying to do things you don’t know how to do. Just fucking ask me to do it. You’re going to eventually anyway, and it will be much easier for both of us if I don’t have to undo you fuckups first.
I had this last night, even though I took a lactaid with the cheese I decided to treat myself to. Maybe I should have taken two, like I did on Wednesday night when I splurged on an entire pint of B&J Strawberry Cheesecake (I usually limit myself to a half pint at a time, but it had been soooooo long).
Dear Customers;
Look, just because we don’t necessarily charge you for every support call you make to us doesn’t mean we’re stupid enough to compensate you for the time you spent working with us to resolve your issue. Next time this idiotic thought crosses your mind, try asking your Doctor or Dentist to compensate you for the time you spent in their waiting room or in their office, or ask your auto mechanic to compensate you for the drive to his shop and the time waiting for your car. Get The Fuck Over Yourself. If you don’t want to spend any time fixing anything, then don’t use any item of technology anywhere, because every damned thing you own, when it breaks, takes up some of your time to get fixed.
The finest clothes turn to rags.
Stop honking your fucking car horn! If, after 20 minutes of repeatedly honking your horn, the person you’re waiting for hasn’t come outside, GET YOUR LAZY ASS UP AND GO TO THE DOOR AND FIND THEM! Either they can’t hear it, or don’t give a shit. Obviously what you’re doing isn’t working, you lazy fuck.
So - did you undo all the fuckups you work with yet? 
So hot in house! I feel like I shouldn’t complain about that here with everyone having much hotter weather, but we’re not used to it, and it’s hot for us. Wah.
Fuck you you fucking fucks!
Last Thursday, my in-laws left the house to run some errands. They were gone for about for hours and came home to find their two laptops and the 42" HDTV gone. (My father in law is pretty sure he forgot to lock the back door. D’oh!) They were already planning on being gone from Friday through this Thursday on vacation.
So they came home THIS Thursday to a broken back door, and every last bit of anything remotely valuable (and easily portable) gone … desktop computers, monitors, the 21" CRT TV they had put in place of the HDTV, camera equipment, and my father in law’s guitars and dulcimer. Who the fuck steals a dulcimer?? They rummaged around for guns, but didn’t bother with the medicine cabinet (too bad … she’s got Vicodin and he’s got Viagra), and didn’t worry about the costume jewelry.
Did I mention that Wednesday was my mother in law’s birthday?
The police said they got one good hand print in the living room, but if they don’t get any matches, then it’s pretty much dead in the water. Property crime just isn’t a high priority right now.
Avarie, that well and truly sucks. While some things are replaceable, I know from experience that musical instruments are not. After being hit not once, but twice in the space of a single week (probably by the same assholes) I think I’d want to move.
I have been sick, like flu sick, for six days straight, and I don’t appear to be getting any better. I have a racking deep chest cough, can’t sleep without choking on my own phlegm and I am bored out of my fucking mind.
If it weren’t for my husband I don’t know what I’d do. Today he is bundling me up in the car and taking me for a ride so I don’t go stir-crazy, then he’s going grocery shopping so I don’t starve to death. Love him, I do.
I’m watching “Parking Wars” on tv*, and I’d like to send a big raspberry out to the attendees of the big Baptist convention who got all offended and huffy and self-righteous when they all got tickets because they were all parked in a no-parking zone. Your reward might be in the next life, but in this life, you still have to obey the signs.
*Yeah, I’m bored and waiting for my husband to get mobile so we can finally freaking DO SOMETHING!