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...

Are chicken wings vegetables?

A smirk ran across my face when I read a recent post by The Mayor of Awesometown. He spoke of Pseudo-Vegetarians. While I agreed with his particular story (dude bitching about the cruelties of eating meat, and then following this up with a drunken meaty-treat), I can't help but feel that many find me to be lumped into this same group.

What an annoying group. Think they're so special (or maybe not!)...but yet get weak and eat meat.

Or maybe they just had a change of heart. Bacon tastes good. Chicken wings taste good (just found that one out this weekend -- I cannot believe I forgot how amazing they are!).

I never preached to anyone about the politics of eating meat. I just chose not to eat it myself...and now I've chosen to convert (sort of).

There's nothing wrong with having a dietary preference. I've decided that calling oneself a "vegetarian" is useless. Not that you can't be a veggie -- but why label it? Labels are moronic and unnecessary. If you don't want to eat meat, don't. That's your dietary preference. If you (read: I) want to eat mostly tofu and soy products but then supplement that with fantastic salty bacon and fatty spicy wings, then do so (and I will, thank you very much).

Labels just give people an excuse to gripe and bitch when you change your mind. "Ooh I thought you were a vegetarian" (in a sing-song voice). I was. Now I've changed my mind. There's nothing wrong with that. If people were forced to maintain the same mindset forever, the world would be full of morons. Adapt or die (as my husband says).

Adapting can mean learning about new political ideologies, or it can be as mundane as adapting one's tastes to enjoying the odd meaty dish.

(Crap -- my boss just walked in while I was typing this -- must learn to be more discrete -- he laughed, and asked "what stupid thing I did today" -- can I insert that getting caught blogging at work is a seriously stupid thing to do?!)

Anyways -- my point is: no more labels. They just cause people to feel that they cannot make changes without getting grief for it. I am no longer a vegetarian. I have some peculiar dietary preferences. That's all.

If you don't like it, beat it.

The Devil Drinks Beer

Just when I thought I was fresh out of stupid things...I had a liquid lunch.

So tasty at the time. I mean seriously, who doesn't love a beautiful cascading Kilkenny (yes I realize that it's Guiness that does the cascading...but Kilkenny still puts on a lovely show, doesn't it)?

The only thing I love more than a tasty Kilkenny is another.

The only thing I hate more than going back to work after such a lovely lunch is the boozy work that goes along with it.

Can't get anything done -- so I'll blog about it.

G-Ts.

The only smart thing about this whole escapade is that my boss is also half-cut, and just came into my office to inquire as to my ability to concentrate after our tasty Kilkenny-filled luncheon. I lied. Pretended like I was totally getting work done. May have made him feel bad. Or he saw right through me. Either way, I only have to get through another hour before we head off to a meeting (at which there will be coctails -- gawd I love Fridays!).

I'm a donkey.

If Chef Ramsay were here, he would agree. He would also call me either stupid, or a diabolical genious. Not that I'm particularly evil...but if the devil were here, I think he'd have enjoyed a beer or two with us at lunch.

Again, G-Ts.

Boys should wash their hands too.

I'm still trying to recover from a terrible case of the heebie-jeebies.

I'm walking into the bathroom and the cleaning lady is walking out. She's using a paper towel to hold the door handle. Not a bad idea -- door handles are germ-ridden. But, I thought to myself, "self -- shouldn't the cleaning lady trust her own cleaning abilities?"..I let it go.

Then, as I'm washing my hands post-pee, another lady walks out, turns the tap on (and immediately off) without so much as splashing water on her germ-ridden hands. Of course she has to get out of the bathroom somehow, so she grabs the door handle with her piss-germ-covered hands. The cleaning lady must've known...

*Shudder* Thank gawd I still have some hand sanitizer at my desk.

People need to learn to be less stupid and less disgusting.

I'd make a better nose picker

My apologies for being absent all week. It's been a busy week at work, and one of two things happens when I'm busy:

(1) I don't do stupid things (I prefer to believe that this is the true statement).
(2) I'm oblivious to all of the stupid things that I do (this is the more likely answer).

I don't have any ridiculous stories about how I spilled food all over myself (believe it or not, I have gotten through the entire week unscathed), or how I tripped and fell face first up the stairs (that didn't happen this week)...instead, I have a story about how being busy makes me do stupid things without even trying.

Take the NFL pool. I'm a notoriously bad picker at the best of times (if you ignore the first couple of weeks of last season when I was in my glory!)...but picking the Dolphins is not something that I will take the blame for.

How does a team expect to have a winning season with a guy like Culpepper tossing the ball around? I know he was good...but now? Maybe he'll make me eat my words...but somehow I doubt it.

What goes through that poor man's head when his old pal Randy isn't around? Something along the lines of..."Hmmm...who should I toss this ball to? I know we're winning, but I don't like to win. I'd rather make an ass of my new team and give up the game in the last 5 minutes. So what should I do here? Oh, I know. I'll pass to the freakin' Pineapple Express (for you non-footballers -- he's not on the same team). That'll surprise everyone."

Yeah. I was surprised alright. Stupid Dolphins. I don't know how you boys can love that team so much. They're just so easy to make fun of. Maybe I shouldn't blame Daunte. I mean he is currently ranked number one in the league for passing yards (hee hee...not many people to compete with when you're only up against Charlie Batch, mind you).

Maybe instead I'll blame it on bad coaching. Not in the "you didn't get the boys ready for the game" way...More in the, “throw the goddamn flag you idiot”. Run out onto the field. Jump up and down. Anything to get some attention! That was clearly not a touchdown. That’s sheer stupidity. He should come and write for my blog.

(Insert pregnant pause while we wait for The Mayor gather some steam and slam out an angry response!) ;)

Okay, enough picking on the Dolphins. It's my own fault for picking them this week. Or is it?

Actually no. I was too freakin' busy at work to get my picks in. So my stupidity was trying not to get fired...and it got me my first stinkin' loss of the season (that loss won't get lonely though...there'll be plenty more to join him shortly).

Man, I suck.

The Lady can't do Laundry

Have you ever left your clothes in the washing machine too long before putting them in the dryer?

Not so that they're wrinkled. I don't care about that (let's not kid ourselves -- I'm really lazy). But so that they emit a certain odor? Kind of a musty, mildewy, yet citrusy stench?

Yeah. I'm stupid.

Black dress pants. Hot day. Not an attractive smell. Can't leave, I have work to do.

There are absolutely no rocks to crawl under at the office. I should close my office door and hide under my desk. Will this day never end?

Ouch -- it's still morning. Is it too early for a "woe is me" drink?