It’s all in the timing.
AGH! The leader of our local social group forwarded my email to the whole group, and he ADDED QUOTES FOR EMPHASIS on one line! Now the whole group is going to think I’m the kind of idiot who uses quotes for emphasis! My life is ruined!
I will hunt down the first person who quotes this post and puts quotes for emphasis all over it.
AGH! The “leader” of our local social group forwarded my email to the “whole” group, and he “ADDED” QUOTES FOR “EMPHASIS” on one line! Now the “whole group” is going to think “I’m” the kind of “idiot” who uses quotes for emphasis! My life is “ruined”!
I “will” hunt down the first person who quotes this post and puts quotes for emphasis all over it.
You just can’t throw a challenge like that down and not expect someone to take it. I might as well get the fun.
I wasn’t really sure what quotes for emphasis meant. I thank you kindly for explaining it with such a “nice” example.
It may be me, but I always figured that using the quotes like that was meant to imply sarcasm or something, especially since in my home town there is a business with “on our way to a “smart” client” on their delivery vans. (This is a business with a fairly bad reputation customer service-wise)
That’s how they’re *supposed *to be used. But some fucking retards decided that it would be great to start using them as another version of bolding or underlining text. The best revenge, of course, is to read the text as though the writer had understood how the quotation marks would come off.
That’s pretty hilarious. No, they’re actually using it as emphasis in that case. Their intent is for you to read it as “On our way to a smart client,” with the takeaway being that, gosh, I’m smart too, so I should hire them!
It would be really funny if they were that self-aware, though. “We’re on our way to a “smart” client. Haha, we’re gonna dick them over so bad!”
Fort Worth, Texas, eh? I’ll pencil in hunting you down for mid-winter. 
I hope to be in a new house, in a new town, in mid October. So you’re gonna have to either “brave” the “heat” down here to find me in Fort Worth, or you’ll have to “hunt” me down in a bedroom community “later on”. And I “insist” that you whisper to my cats first. Especially the kitten, tell her that mommy and daddy love her “very” much, but we “do” wish that she wouldn’t fart “quite” so much. My “lone” houseplant is “dying”.
Oh “god,” my eyes are “bleeding.”
You have no idea how painful that was to write, either.
I was seriously tempted to reply to one of Cat Whisperer’s posts in another thread in that manner, but I decided that this would be taking the joke too far. So I’m done now.
I think.
You “think.”
i’m imagining Cat Whisperer crawling through the lush jungle that is your screened-in-porch.
I quit the job because you were an insane person; you neglected to send me my T4 for 2008 (employment record that gives Revenue Canada the information they need to tax my employment), so I estimated based on my cheque stubs, and now Revenue Canada is asking ME why the CPP information you submitted doesn’t match what I submitted. BECAUSE YOU’RE A CRAZY, NASTY BITCH, is my guess. And no, I didn’t call the crazy bitch to beg for my legally-required document because she’s A CRAZY BITCH. Guess that’s coming back to bite me in the ass now. Hopefully the cheque stub copy will clear this all up. It gives me warm fuzzies to know that this is all over an amount that is probably less than a dollar, too.
Does anyone know how you find out the owner of a publicly-traded, massive company?
Go to the company’s website - under their investor information section, there is virtually always a management team section with bios, pics and stuff. (Technically, the owners are the shareholders, which will generally include the CEO to a certain extent, but not necessarily as a majority owner.)
QFT?
Fuck your little yappy white dog. You leave the upstairs door open 24/7 and every time that little ratbait motherfucker sees another dog out the window, he come running and yapping. Yapyapyap down the steps; yapyapyapyap across the yard, yapyapyapyapyap at the fence. How can you not know that it’s annoying to the neighbors? I swear by all that’s unholy, I’m going to just open the gate and let the little bastard take his chances with traffic.
At least the other useless little piece of shit yappy motherfucker is finally gone: moved to Mexico with his owners for six months. I hope he ends up in a fucking taco.
Last night, I went to the county fair. Yes, yes- I know! But Morris Day and the Time were playing, so my hand was basically forced :p. Anywho, after the concert, my friends and I went and wandered the exhibit halls, eventually ending up at the local Democrat booth.
As I walk up, I see three teensy tiny, old as dirt ladies sitting in the booth, selling buttons. . . and some maybe 18 year old douche in a suit making a scene. “But HOW can a single payer system WORK??” he pointedly said, talking over the nice little old lady who was attempting to say she wasn’t here to argue. Then, Douche turns into the aisle, facing the crowds of people walking by, throws his hands in the air, and shouts at the passersby: “Can ANYONE answer the question because SHE apparently CAN’T?!?!” All with a smug look on his face- you know, the same one Glenn Beck gets when he can reference the founding fathers.
About this time, I was standing about a 2 feet from him. I looked at him as incredulously as I could (while he was still as before, preening and attempting to get attention) and said, “Wow you’re a douchebag.” He kind of halted for a second, but kept up the big douchey act (not directed at me, directed to the walkersby), “I’m just asking why she can’t answer my question! I mean, if she loves Obama SOOOO much—” To which I said, “And I’m just saying: you’re a fucking asshole. I’m not sure who you’re trying to impress, but you need to leave these nice women alone and go showboat somewhere else.”
The little old ladies laughed quietly (in that polite little old lady way) and thanked me. Then I bought a bunch of pins- something I wasn’t planning on doing, but if this is what those nice women have to put up with all night, I’m more than happy to give them $20. While buying the pins, one of the old ladies said, “I guess he just wanted to give us a lesson about how to debate.” To which I said (loud enough for Douche Canoe to hear): “Funny enough, I’m actually a high school debate coach and let me tell you, even my 14 year olds know that the way you win a debate isn’t by being arrogant and making a scene.” Douchey turned red and put his head down.
I just fucking hate this trend in politics lately. Don’t get me wrong: the douche front has always been there on both sides of the political arena, but it seems like the ever-growing popularity of RL trolls like Beck have really increased this obnoxious show-boating. Really, kid? You’re going to pick on a bunch of old ladies selling buttons at the fair?
Oh, the best part? Later, I went into the other exhibit hall and walked by the Republican booth (which proudly displayed large photos of George W. Bush and Ronald Reagan next to one another) and who was working in his little suit? Douche. He said to another guy as I walked by, “Oh, that’s the typical uneducated liberal right there-- the one I was talking about earlier.” I turned to him and said, “Actually, kid, I have a political science degree. Do you?” He got quiet again. Fucking dick.
On the upside (because I’m not totally a Negative Nancy), Morris Day and the Time was about as epic as you’d expect. And Jerome! Jerome was there!
This little shitstain was trying to argue for the impossibility of a system that already exists and functions in other countries? What a moron.
Venturing outside the echo chamber can be a disorienting experience.
Right? And I wasn’t even about to get into that with him, because his very question proved what an absolute moron he is. To me though, his treatment of those nice ladies was far worse than his basic ignorance. You can be dumb, but don’t be a dick about it. Hell, you can even intelligently disagree with my position, but don’t be a dick about it. Clearly this kid was the first example though.
No kidding!