Stupid things I hate

Things I hate today...

1. People who sit in the “courtesy seats” on the bus, and conveniently look away when an elderly or disabled person gets on the bus…leaving it up to the people at the back of the bus to accommodate. There’s a reason they’re called courtesy seats people! Get off your lazy asses and give up your seat for someone who needs it more than you! The transit people have had to go so far as to put up signs to tell you to use your friggin heads and get up…but you still don’t have the common decency to what the fucking signs tell you. You make me sick. Seriously. There’s not much in this world lower than that. It’s worse than apathetic. It’s downright pathetic. I’ve stood by and watched this crap for long enough. The next person that reveals their lack of common sense will get a serious tongue lashing from me (and not in the good way!). ;)
2. Another form of lazy sonofabitch on the bus: the leg shifter. When I ring the stupid bell to request a stop, it means that I’ll be getting off soon. The polite thing to do (apparently being polite is a novel fucking idea for bus riders) is to get up off your fat ass and let me out of the seat. Don’t just swing your legs to the side so that I have to clamber over you to get out. The next time someone does this to me, I’m going to elbow them as I crawl over. Do they do this so they can cop a cheap feel? I doubt it. More likely sheer laziness. I particularly love it when they look at me afterwards like they expect a “thanks” for moving their legs. No sir, you will get no thanks from me. Next time: “Thanks for moving your legs and making me climb over you like a monkey. You’re a real peach. Jackass.”
   
   I’ll stop with the bus crap now…I do have other things that I feel the need to get off my chest this morning…
3. Starbucks coffee lids. Now I realize part of this is my own fault for over-filling my cup…but seriously, it shouldn’t be rocket-science to build a cup/lid that doesn’t make coffee jump out and onto every surface around it (my shirt, pants, purse, the floor, the guy standing next to me in the elevator…do you get the picture?). It’s enough to make me want to boycott. Okay, that’s going too far…I need my coffee. It’s an addiction. I’m working on it, back off.
4. Being a moron. That’s right…this one is geared solely at myself. If I leave another damn Starbucks coffee in the microwave too long I’m going to lose it. There is nothing worse (okay, overstatement – I’m sure there are tons of worse things) than the walk of shame back to my desk from the microwave with my stinky burned cup of coffee. And yes, I will continue to drink this blistering hot nuclear (note: not nucular) coffee. “It’s just a little toxic, it’s still good, it’s still good.”
   
   Any comments? Maybe I hate you too. :P
   (PS – I also hate emoticons)

Holy Pantaloons

So I just got back from another two-beer lunch...but that's not why I'm writing (been there, done that). I'm writing because I discovered something while in the bathroom.

Intrigued?

Don't be.

I realized, whilst enjoying a long-lasting post two-beer seal-breaker, that there is a rather large hole in my pants. Yes, a hole. A hole that is most certainly visible to those looking for it. It is too high up to be hidden while walking (though not so high up as to be blatantly obvious -- phew!).

Can you guess where the hole is situated? I don't think I need to clarify.

I know not from where (or whence) this hole came. I only know that it's there now...and that it's trouble. How will I get around the office? I can't very well wheel around in my chair all day (or can I?). I can't tie my wool coat around my waist (which, by the way smells like sweaty sheep -- note to self: never wear a wool coat on a rainy day).

What to do?

I've already discussed the concept of hiding under my desk in a previous blog (ps - these are the very same pants I was wearing in that blog...is a little piece of my stupid history dying today? Will I have to throw out these wonderful pants?).

This doesn't seem like a problem that I can resolve with a safety pin (though I should note that most problems can be solved with a simple safety pin)...A pin in the crack doesn't seem particularly "safe" (boo -- that was terrible).

I'll stop now....mostly because there's no point to this story. No happy ending. No resolution. I leave it to you. Please save me from my life of stupidity! I hope you haven't ditched me yet for my sporatic blogs...