Bitch Rants Blog

Free Shipping

2012-01-14T17:35:00.000-08:00

If I see one more email subject line advertising FREE SHIPPING! only to discover it's only free if you spend $50 or more or order the special white elephant product or whatever, I'm going to freak out!

Good Vibrations and Babeland: you are the worst for this. If there's a caveat, put it in the subject line. I need some lube but I don't want to buy $50 worth of it to get free shipping. Gah!

Sick of Trying

2011-11-05T18:37:00.000-07:00

I'm totally fucking sick of trying to be a fucking Pollyanna every time something goes wrong. "Oh! THIS just went wrong / broke / fucking interrupted my flow, but let's look on the bright side . . . I can still switch gears and do THIS other thing!!"

Yeah, while trying to fix the broke thing, while plan B goes up in smoke too, while I have five different things I'm trying to juggle and not-a-fucking-one will work.

So utterly fucking sick of it. Going to throw all six computers out the window and go work in a warehouse boxing dildos or something. And have insurance and when shit goes wrong it's like, "AWESOME . . . a great excuse to sit around scratching my ass while the fucking COMPANY has to pay for it."

Sometimes I just want a brain-dead job where nothing's my fault or my responsibility and I don't need to try to be so fucking awesome because I'm fucking not, I'm fucking stupid and easily frustrated and I cannot put up with this motherfucking bullshit anymore.

Old Lady Perfume Stink

2011-09-25T10:03:00.000-07:00

Ahhh, FALL! We have a fresh wind and damp ground, orange maple leaves against blue sky . . . and the hideous stench of old-lady perfume coming from one of our neighbors' dryer vents. It's FILLING our entire backyard.

That should so totally be illegal, being able to blow noxious nerve gas stink all throughout the neighborhood.

I don't want to hear you, I don't want to see you, and I definitely don't want to fucking SMELL you and your scary haunted-mansion talced-up dusty-pot-pourri underwear scent.

Take the Plank out of your EYE!

2011-04-08T23:39:00.000-07:00

I find myself really irritated when a customer writes a nitpicky hypercritical email and then I waste a whole SHITLOAD of time replying to the guy who doesn't appreciate us as much as the members who are HAPPY with our work who I rarely spend as much time writing to. Then what really REALLY annoys me is when their fucking email addresses are wrong or they have some stupid-ass email service or internet provider that refuses to deliver the email.

SO. FUCKING. LAME.

Discontinued: Redken Blonde Glam Pure Pearl

2011-02-24T10:41:00.000-08:00

WHY did Redken discontinue their Blonde Glam Pure Pearl treatment? It worked, it made my hair feel good, and it SMELLED LIKE HEAVEN IN A SEXY TAN COCONUT.

I'm not the only one who's pissed and bitching about it being replaced; check out these reviews on "Pure Platinum":

Horrible replacement: This product is so bad in comparisson with PURE PEARLE. I don't understand why it was discontinued. Unlike after using pure pearl you now need to use the conditioner. I am not buying this one any more. It is horrible.

And

BRING BACK PURE PEARL: Why discontinue a product that was so good and replace it with something sub-par. BRING BACK PURE PEARL. If I knew it was going to be discontinued and replaced with this I would have stock piled.

And

Terrible compared to the discontinued pure pearl: I started using this after Redken discontinued the Blonde Glam Pure Pearl Color Activating Treatment, which was phenomenal. It doesn't make my hair feel nearly as soft or shiny as the Pure Pearl, and the smell of this compared to the Pure Pearl - sucks!

You don't even know how fucking hard life can be for blonde bitches. SO FUCKING HARD and full of product disappointments. I'm about to shave my head. But don't worry, I'm leaving the rest UNGLAMOROUSLY HAIRY!!

Queen Size THIS, motherfuckers!

2010-07-02T18:51:00.000-07:00

One of the biggest petty banes of lower-middle-classdom has got to be ill-fitting "fitted" sheets.

Dear Target & JC Penney: we're sick of being woken up at night by the "thwunk" of elastic as the corner of the sheet by our heads comes loose off of the mattress and bounces into our faces. Pulling and tugging TO NO AVAIL because YOUR FUCKING SHEETS ARE TOO SMALL.

I can live with sleeping on cheap sheets that feel like burlap sacks -- we aren't asking for softness when we buy low-price sheets -- but DON'T FUCKING CALL THEM QUEEN SIZE IF THEY'RE NOT. Do not skimp on the AMOUNT of fabric.

Man, I hate your fucking guts motherfuckers. Pulling and tugging OVER and OVER. I wish every time we tried to pull the corners back over the mattress that whoever is responsible for this cheapness would feel the same tugging on his or her tongue and/or balls and/or hemorrhoids.

Enjoy nature AND GET OFF YOUR FUCKING PHONE!!

2010-07-01T15:22:00.000-07:00

Taking a walk on a woodland path -- no power lines, no electricity, supposedly peace and quiet -- some fucking bitch is YAPPING ON HER FUCKING CELL PHONE. Why the fuck don't you stay home and get on a treadmill? The sight and sound of you disgusts me. I know that's a hideous thing to say and even worse to truly feel, so I'm working on it and trying to be kinder.

Then we encounter a cunt who is not only talking on her phone, SHE HAS IT ON SPEAKERPHONE!! So *EVERYBODY* gets to hear some damned fool yapping in that electro-microwaved amplified lo-fi way. YOU INTRUSIVE INCONSIDERATE CUNT!!!

I hate people and I hate their out-of-touch device addictions. Get in touch with your surroundings and the people present in your physical space and GET OFF THE FUCKING PHONE, shitholes!!

Out of Sale Items

2010-06-30T11:18:00.000-07:00

GodDAMN it!! I hate it when I go to the store for ONE THING that's on sale -- only going to the store to stock up on that one thing BECAUSE it's on sale -- and they're fucking low on it or out of it so I invested time and gas in the journey for nothing!!!

STOCK UP ON YOUR FUCKING LUNA BARS, ASSHOLES!!!!

Same goes for motherfucking emergen-c!!!!

I won't even go into detail about the tragedy of a month-long sale that suddenly DISAPPEARED mid-month and I waited around to talk to a manager to found out why. Her answer gave me no satisfaction, let me tell you.

And rainchecks seem to be a thing of the past that only annoying old ladies ask for, apparently.

The 5th of July???

2010-06-29T13:25:00.000-07:00

Who celebrates the fucking FIFTH of July? Cinco de Julio? What the FUCK? Never heard of it.

But the post office is taking that day off. Give me a fucking break. The holiday is on Sunday, not Monday. SUCK IT. Do you think credit card companies are going to call it a holiday? No, they'll just say our payments are late.

I guess I should have planned for this in advance, but seeing how it makes NO COMMON SENSE, I thought the mail would be delivered as on any non-holiday on Monday the 5th of July.

I was wrong.

More Bitching about Neighbors

2010-05-27T11:15:00.001-07:00

I even feel bitchy about our mostly-GOOD neighbors. Because the truth is that I do not want to have visible neighbors at all.

I don't want to see my neighbors, I don't want to hear my neighbors, and I don't want them to see or hear me.

I don't want to see their dog, or see/smell/step in their dog's shit, especially in our own fucking yard. I don't want to live close enough to a neighbor's yard that wherever they throw their dog's shit or direct their dog to squat that the smell of it drifts over to my life in my yard. Especially if they have a black lab or large dog with soft, wet, giant shits.

I don't want to HEAR my neighbors' dog(s), and especially do not want to hear that low, persistent woofing for sometimes hours without ever once hearing my neighbor say "shuttup" to the pesky motherfucker. I also don't want to hear any neighbors' tiny dogs and their chirpy, anxious yip-yip-yipping.

I do not want to hear my neighbors at all. Not his daughter's boyfriend parked in the driveway talking on his cell phone like a little bitch, not his worker bees, not his friends, not his cunt of a lazy ex who honks when she pulls up instead of hauling her fat ass out of the car.

I do not want to hear my neighbors' power tools or hammers or engines starting up or car doors slamming or VOICES. I don't want to hear any of that EVER.

I don't want to hear my neighbors' engines revving or cars warming up. And I don't fucking EVER want to hear the sound of a large vehicle's back-up warning system, those brain dead beeps you can hear from blocks away. I am glad that I learned this because now I know never to ever live within a mile of any place any sort of dump truck, loader, pick-up & delivery vehicle, or garbage truck visits regularly. No carpet store, no nursery with landscaping materials like bark, no city facility with large mounds of gravel.

I don't want to see my neighbors' friends. I don't want to know who they are, and I certainly don't want them thinking they can cut through my fucking yard to get to his.

I don't want to see or hear my neighbors' kids or even know they have any, whether they be screaming infants or sullen teenagers. I don't want to wonder whether or not I should call them cops when they have a party or a fight. I don't want to fucking KNOW if they're having a party or a fight. I want no auditory or visual or olfactory evidence of those things to penetrate my peace and quiet in the center of my property.

I don't want my neighbors animal shit or dead-car fluids or septic tank seepage or lawn and garden chemicals to sully any of my own groundwater or picturesque streams.

And if a cougar ventures into my yard I want to be able to kill it. With a gun. I guess that's a little off topic.

I don't want my neighbors to know whether or not our lawn is mowed or whether or not we even HAVE a lawn. I don't want them to know whether or not there's moss on our roof or if I'm standing paralyzed in the morning dew feeling wet grass tickle my ankles. I don't want them to know what I'm wearing or not wearing when I'm inside or outside. I don't want them to gawk when my girlfriend absent-mindedly sticks her hand in her bra and fondles her breast while standing at the kitchen window.

I want to be able to shoot anybody who trespasses, and for it to be obvious what is mine and how you should fucking keep out. I don't want any fucking public trails inviting strangers to mosey on by or through, way too fucking close for comfort. I probably wouldn't ever shoot someone, but I at least want to be able to look at them with extreme hostility and tell them they're not welcome, not now and for their own safety, not ever again.

I need a buffer. A deep, wide, green, dark buffer no one can see through. I want to make believe that I am untouchable by people surrounded by a thick denseness of forbidding nature. I want to have chickens, but I don't know about roosters because they are loud, and they are loud in the morning, which is the worst.

I understand how mean and unsociable it is to not want to get to know your neighbors. To pretend they don't exist and avoid making eye contact with them. I do think that is missing out on something good. But I feel in my bones that I'm missing out on more by not having quiet wet growing places all around me to explore and get to know intimately, like I and my closest family are the only ones to smell and touch and investigate and hear them in all the decades that I live there.

I'm sad that the possibility of having this kind of freedom from others and privacy is nearing impossible. IS impossible if even a small percentage of the people in the world demanded it. That this place is just overrun with people and their sounds and their dog shit and their own shit.

I feel sort of petrified by the fear and likelihood that I'll never have this. That there will always be neighbors in my peripheral vision. That I'll never be able to melt into green invisibility.

Even if you're able to afford a few acres out in the woods or country, sound carries farther where it's quiet so you just need more. And you have to be constantly vigilant everywhere now for where they'll put the next landfill or development or resort or border patrol station. People are everywhere and most of them show no regard for maintaining a big space cushion between each other. They show no shame over their sounds and growling oversized useless pickups and stupid fucking mobile phone conversations. I SHOULDN'T KNOW THIS MUCH ABOUT YOUR STUPID LIFE!! Not without using stealth, anyway. Or reading your stupid blog (like this one).

I don't want to see the headlights of the cars pulling into my neighbors'. I don't want them to be able to penetrate the gloom that should surround me.

Unplayable BRAND NEW DVD's!!

2010-04-29T21:03:00.000-07:00

I only buy brand new DVDs of things I've already seen and know that I love and will want to watch again and again. BUT NOT RIGHT AWAY!

The problem is then I only find out MONTHS after purchasing them that they are defective. Happened to us with Firefly that we got them brand new and at least one of the discs is totally fucked (the one where Kaylee gets her pink froofroo dress!!) with a huge rub-out scratch area.

Then it happened to me AGAIN!! Only the third tv show dvd pack I bought, and on the FINAL EPISODE of Twin Peaks, there is some kind of defect where there are no scratches or visible flaws on the disc, but it keeps skipping, getting green chunks of pixels, and crapping out entirely so you lose your place. Seriously, TWO OUT OF THREE dvd television show collections with defects?

Blarrrrrr! I'm angry!!! It sucks so hard to be watching shows that are like SACRED RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCES/RITUALS and have them RUINED like this!!

To Paint a Fucking Toenail, First . . .

2010-03-14T16:09:00.000-07:00

I don't know what the fuck is wrong with women who love painting their fucking toenails themselves. It's a BORING FUCKING TORTURE JOB that's impossible to get right.

First of all, do you realize you need to vacuum every square inch of your house first? Because if you don't, you'll get a fluff of pet fur or one stray hair or god knows what stuck in your polish unless you have someone to wait on you hand and foot for the hours it takes for the sticky shit to FULLY dry.

I'm also guessing bitches who love doing it aren't actually whores like I am who plan to take pictures of the painted toenails or have people actually suck them so maybe perfection isn't vital to them.

But perfection is vital TO ME, and I cannot fucking paint them perfectly myself. AGONIZING, bending over with my fat fucking belly in the way and trying to see. On top of that I have extremely tiny little toes and nails so the brush splayed out is way bigger than all but the nails on my big toes so it's really hard to stay on just the nail.

And you're just fucking dumb if you think you only need one layer of polish. NO. You need basecoat, two layers of color AND a topcoat if you want that shit to look yummy.

And of course you need to actually pamper your feet in between polishings so they are soft and moist without nasty peeling white flaky gross cracks and flakes and bubbles of skin. You need to scrub and saw at the soles of your feet with abrasive stones, brushes, sponges and more. And you have to clip and file and shape the nails and push back and trim your cuticles like you're a motherfucking sculptor of dead tissue and do a good job so they all look uniform. And shave your legs and tan and be perfect in every other way because what's the point of having beautiful feet if your hair is a greasy blob of dirty blonde?

My point is, decorating yourself in a "feminine" way is a shitload of work connected to OTHER work, all stacked up on top of each other and consuming more fucking time and requiring more patience and skill than is popularly acknowledged. You get the impression from societal attitudes and pop culture that painting your toenails is the same as lying around eating bon bons but LET ME TELL YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!! IT IS NOT!!!!!!

******NOTE: I have really really bad PMS right now and seem incapable of getting anything done because NOTHING IS EASY!!! Even the shit you're led to believe is "fun" and "simple" . . . even a stupid GIRL can do it!! That shit is a fucking lie that degrades the beautiful art of self-decoration that so many women practice and master all for the reward of being dismissed as superficial. I feel like stomping on people's heads right now.

Mini Water Heater

2010-03-02T21:31:00.000-08:00

We have this stupid mini water heater; it's not even half the size of a regular one. It fits under the kitchen counter.

I'm not big on personal cleanliness like most overzealous Americans, but I *do* like to take a hot shower after spending hours housecleaning. This is, however, impossible since all of the hot water has been used up on cleaning.

Tonight, because I have PMS, this makes me feel like crying. I *hate* when my body smells like I'm a fucking maid. I hate my hands being all destroyed from hot water and bleach and stuff (and I can't WORK with gloves on my little hands . . . I need to feel what I'm doing in order to do it right).

After I clean up dirty stuff I want to get it all off of me, especially before I go to sleep at night.

PMS

2010-03-02T19:46:00.000-08:00

I had almost zero desire to blog here while I was on the pill (hormonal birth control).

Now that I'm taking a break from it? BOOM!! I can't stop thinking about stuff to bitch about. I feel just incredibly irritable, paranoid, cranky and unable to cope.

Cleaning GARBAGE

2010-03-02T19:36:00.000-08:00

Okay, I pretty much hate housecleaning in general, but the absolute worst kind of housework is cleaning GARBAGE. You know, like prepping the recyclables by washing tin cans, plastic containers, etc.

There is no worse use of my time than WASHING something before I THROW IT AWAY. Fucking HELL!!!!!!

Of course, what I really hate I suppose is how much disposable shit is in our lives and the accompanying guilt. It's a weird and horrible conflict, the desire for convenience and supposedly less work (or less of the boring, soul-sucking HOUSEwork) versus the desire for, you know, a beautiful world. I wonder at the end of the day whether or not any of the conveniences DO result in less work at all. Sometimes I feel like I'm just drowning in garbage-shit.

In a way I wish I'd have grown up learning/being forced to cook, can, garden, etc. so that those things were second-nature to me as an adult. My grandma did can and stuff but I never LEARNED any of it and I'm not someone who figured out how to cook just by watching women do it. Still, I really don't think that's what I was put on the earth to do (cook, clean, and just try to sustain myself).

Mostly when I feel this way my outlook is bleak; the only alternative seems to consume next-to-nothing otherwise I don't know how to lead a sustainable life without losing every morsel of freedom to do the things I find most pleasurable and creative. No, I could never be fulfilled leaving behind a legacy of "had an okay garden some years, eventually mastered salsa-making and cooked soups reasonably well once she hit her sixties".

Wet Shirt Sleeves

2009-12-10T13:03:00.000-08:00

I need to get some fucking wristbands, you know, the kind that collect SWEAT for when I'm washing my face or basically doing anything at a sink that involves putting my hands in running water and taking them out again.

Washing my face: you know that wonderful feeling of putting a hot, damp rag on your tired eyes? Bliss! UNTIL DROPLETS OF WATER STARTS RUNNING DOWN YOUR HANDS, WRISTS, AND TRICKLING DOWN YOUR FOREARM eventually being absorbed into your pajama sleeves, the ones you choose for warmth and comfort but are now going to be soggy, cold yuckiness around your wrists.

And now I don't even know how this happened, that when I washed my hands and put in my contacts my left sleeve got soaked. I fucking LOATHE that sensation. Sitting at the computer with a damp SLEEVE softly bouncing on and off my wrist.

And don't EVEN get me started about wet socks. . . . oh jesus CHRIST!

Disappearing License Keys

2009-10-11T21:02:00.000-07:00

You know how when you spend your money on software they issue you a registration or license key?

Yeah, well I have one of those for a piece of software, and it entitles me to a year of free upgrades. So what happens when I try to install the upgrade? It *uninstalls* the old version ALONG WITH THE LICENSE KEY, and then the NEW version wants me to key it in, but of course, I don't know off the top of my fucking head where it's at.

So now I get to waste a shitload of fucking time trying to unearth the code. God I fucking hate this crap. What a goddamned waste of my time.

And don't even say that I should have that shit organized; I fucking *do*! I'm sure I have three versions of it saved safely away, but they are eluding me, probably because the emails don't say the NAME of the software, but some mysterious and completely unguessable company name so search, and scanning my "important reference" and "receipts" folders yields fucking nothing. I want to fucking SCREAM.

More Gravel Raking?

2009-09-12T13:56:00.000-07:00

What the fuck is that sound on a pleasant windows-open September weekend? Someone raking gravel again? Someone stroking a very long tube of cardboard with very dry, calloused hands? Someone brushing metal with sandpaper in three foot long strokes? Oh, it's someone sweeping their driveway.

Schhhhhhhhhwwwwwwwwwwwwwiiit! Schhhhhhhhhwwwwwwwwwwwwwiiit! Schhhhhhhhhwwwwwwwwwwwwwiiit!

I would like to stick that broom handle straight up that motherfucker's ass.

Oh god. Now someone is striking up a conversation. Two BOOMING men's voices. HIIIIII. Blah blah fucking blah. I hate the sound of people. When I'm at home, I don't want to be reminded you exist within earshot of me. Go inside and watch some football or something.

Browser Updates, Java, Flash, Windows, WP -- FUCK!!

2009-09-12T13:46:00.000-07:00

I am so motherfucking sick of every fucking time I turn on a computer or try to open a browser, having to wait for another fucking firefox or windows or WHATEVER THE FUCK update to take place. Or having our computers and webcams go down in the middle of the night in order for such automated bullshit to take place.

I understand the necessity of it, I'm just sick of it being such an obvious and continuous part of my life. When you have seven or eight machines and need all of them to PERFORM NOW, it feels so repetitive and never-ending. Which I should just accept, because IT IS. It FEELS that way because it IS that way. I just hate it. HATE IT. Sick of the tech treadmill.

Maybe I'm particularly irritated by it because we just got home from spending an AMAZINGLY FABULOUS three nights in a cabin without running water or electricity or cell phone coverage. And now we're back home to all of this intrusive SHIT. The sound of neighbors' car doors slamming, the hum of these fucking computers, the constant bullshit of software telling me it needs to update now! It just updated! Oh wait, needs to update again! Oh, hahaha -- you thought you'd have a break from that but EVERY FUCKING DAY ON ONE COMPUTER OR ANOTHER, there's something that needs to be updated! Let me just snatch a few moments of your time to make you sit here and wait for some bullshit or make you restart everything . . .

I could cry right now, I want to be back in the woods so fucking bad.

YES I want you to bag my fucking groceries!

2009-07-02T17:12:00.000-07:00

The hippy-ass food coop. There are so many things I love and HATE about shopping there. The limited hours. The narrow aisles filled with snot-nosed kids and stoned, oblivious slowpokes standing in the middle of everything you want to get at.

I especially hate it when the cashiers don't even move a muscle to bag your groceries. Happened to me today on my horrifying second trip there (one trip a week is too much, two trips in one day? NIGHTMARE) to get the cilantro and coffee I forgot. At the end of our little exchange, the cashier looked at me and feebly ASKED, "do you want me to bag your groceries for you?"

YES. YES I FUCKING WANT YOU TO BAG MY FUCKING GROCERIES. I wouldn't be standing here if I didn't. I want you to bag my groceries just like I want a farmer to grow my vegetables and a butcher to kill the cows I eat. The only way I would want to bag my groceries myself is if THE GROCERIES WERE FREE. But as long as I'm paying for them and you're a cashier and ostensibly have some experience at packing shit properly into those floppy fucking reusable bags, then I fucking want you to finish your fucking job.

I know I'm being crazy about this. I know that it would make just as much sense to me to be the kind of person who realizes customers who pack their own groceries are just helping the line be more efficient and not treating the hired help like slaves. I guess. I mean, I think it's great that some people are into packing their own groceries. Good for them! That's so nice and maybe preferable to them than just standing around while someone else does the work. NOT FOR ME THOUGH.

I *did* my work when I tortured myself SELECTING all of the groceries and PAYING for them. I guess what really pisses me off is getting the message that I'm somehow being unreasonable or lazy or something for thinking that self-bagging should be the exception, not the rule. If I didn't run over to the end of the counter to pack my fucking groceries then clearly you should DEFAULT to what SHOULD be the STANDARD OPERATING PROCEDURE of bagging my motherfucking groceries! Don't ask me just to make me feel bad. Don't ask me if I *want* you to do it *for me* like you're doing me a fucking favor. You're not. That's part of your fucking job. Yes, I know the word "co-op" is part of the store's name, but you are still getting paid. It's not a fucking volunteer position.

Granola cunt in line behind me got all agitated and grim upon witnessing my lazy-ass refusing to bag my own shit. She shoved past me like I was holding her up so she could grab a paper bag and show me how it's done. Listen, bitch; I brought a REUSABLE bag instead of using PAPER so stick your little lesson straight up your ass. My reusable bag trumps your pushy helping hands.

Fuh-huh-HUCKING hate that shit!!

Dryer Sheets

2009-05-17T18:29:00.000-07:00

It's bad enough having to walk down the PERFUME aisle (laundry detergents, fabric softeners, etc.) at the grocery store -- a fucking migraine waiting to happen, but at least you can kind of avoid that aisle with a little planning.

What you CAN'T avoid are the people in your neighborhood who use those products, especially scented dryer sheets, and are equipped with blowholes in the sides of their houses to disseminate the cloying aroma of their laundry drying so it can be smelled as far away as three blocks.

Woe is me with my office window facing our idiot neighbor's garage where her washer and dryer are located. I can't open my window to get REAL fresh air; I have trademarked APRIL fresh air foisted upon me like a toxic gas.

That shit should be against the law. It's a fucking health hazard for a lot of people with allergies, migraines, asthma, chemical sensitivities, etc.

I don't mind when I can smell the smoke from their marijuana, just please don't make me smell that ghastly laundry perfume, mkay? NASTY.

UNsubscribe!

2009-04-10T15:29:00.000-07:00

Somewhere along the line I got signed up to a healthy-eating newsletter. I mean, I definitely signed myself up for it, I think because they had good recipes. No complaints there, I just got tired of my inbox having five emails from them (that I never felt like reading) every week and decided to get off the list.

When I finally found the teeny-tiny link to unsubscribe and clicked on it, it took me to a long-ass list of a billion newsletters, each with their own radio buttons to either subscribe or unsubscribe. I had to SEARCH to find the one newsletter I was subscribed to so I could unsubscribe.

Of course, it could've been worse, but still -- really shitty/not-simple, and this annoys me because it's always us pornographers who get the bad rap with this shit, yet mainstream/non-adult gets away with it constantly. Fucking people, wasting their time, high-pressure bullshit.

Deaf Fuckers & Their Dogs

2009-03-29T21:01:00.000-07:00

After an agonizingly long, snowy (for Western Washington) winter, we had our second day of spring today. Yes, this is only the second beautiful, sunny day we have had. Tonight it's lovely and the frogs are croaking. I'd love to hear them and enjoy the silence. Maybe open a window for some fresh air.

EXCEPT EVEN WITH THE WINDOWS CLOSED, SOME FUCKER'S BARKING DOG IS INTRUDING ON THE PLEASANTNESS OF THE EVENING. For a fucking hour or so. What the fuck is wrong with these shitholes who let their dogs yap ceaselessly? I'm seriously about ready to get in my car and find the source, pull up to their house and lay on the horn until someone comes out. And just keep laying on it, staring at them, and BARKING madly at them out my window.

Get the picture you inconsiderate festering fuckheads?

DVD Cases

2009-03-28T17:22:00.000-07:00

How the film industry makes up for money they lose to piracy: by making their discs impossible to extract from their cases and super-breakable. I know! Let's get people to buy their favorite movies and television shows at least TWICE! How? By impaling each one on little plastic rosebuds with kung-fu grip strength. When they enthusiastically try to remove them, they bend, crack and/or break! AWESOME!

Fuckers.

Ding Dongs & Better Desserts

2009-03-21T12:45:00.000-07:00

My birthday was on Tuesday so I've allowed myself a few disgusting treats, namely chocolate susans (those white cookies from Safeway with turd-swirls of chocolate frosting on top) and a box of Hostess ding dongs. Oh, and some Russian Caravan tea sweetened with sugar (I normally try to steer clear of caffeine and, lately, simple sugars).

Aside from the normal guilt (and discomfort up-to/including migraines) I get from eating total crap, I feel horrid about buying SHITTY desserts. I mean, if I'm going to splurge I really would prefer to get really high-quality desserts. There are a number of good bakeries in town, two of which SOMETIMES have Pain au chocolat. The problem is they only have it in the morning, are closed before dinnertime, AND MY WILLPOWER IS AT ITS LOWEST WHILE MY DESIRE IS AT ITS PEAK AT NIGHT.

Pastries and warm bread and chocolate aren't things I want to schedule in advance into the loathsome morning (not that I don't enjoy eating those things in the morning, I just don't *crave* them then / am thoroughly capable of resisting them at a time of day when swallowing food sometimes makes me want to vomit). I want doughy, gooey, sweet, melty and chewy deliciousness AT NIGHT. When I'm in bed with my girlfriend watching overwrought BBC dramas. When it's dark out with no light to distract me from the flavors in my mouth. When I'm setting the stage for my favorite part of the day: the time when I SLEEP.

Sigh. Food is the *only* thing that makes me wish we lived in Manhattan. Seriously.

Hairy Socks

2009-03-19T17:02:00.000-07:00

Screech!

Nothing sucks harder than discovering AFTER you've donned socks AND shoes that there's a long hair inside your sock. And it's wrapping around your toes like a tight strand of twine, or simply wedged in your toe cleavage and sharply cutting into your tender flesh each time you take a motherfucking STEP.

Pain and irritation (and anything I have to BEND OVER to remedy) are things I bitch about often.

Motherfucking Phone Books

2009-03-13T19:32:00.000-07:00

I get so fucking sick of seeing those yellow pieces of shit and those extraneous other weird off-brand bullshit phone books, assloads of new ones every year, stacking up in the fucking house, wrapped in plastic laying in your yard, blah blah blah. I want to stick those fuckers right up some advertiligious buttfuckers ass. We should be able to opt out of getting those things or press littering charges against them or SOMETHING. They should have a kiosk or something for people to pick them up IF THEY WANT THEM. If, you know, they're living in a world without the internet.

I'm ready to go crazy and find all the stupid phone books lurking in our house, taking up space, gathering dust, wasting paper and just go shrieking out of the house throwing them around, ripping them up, freaking the fuck out.

I'm so sick of being a garbage receptacle/processor in my home. SICK of it. Waste of my time, waste of my space, calling card to robbers that we're not home when you toss them onto our porch . . . I don't want your yellow fucking pages foisted upon me.

I should wipe my ass with a page of telephone book every day and mail it to the fucking shitholes. Oh! You didn't ASK me to RSVP my feces to you? TOO FUCKING BAD. When you quit, so will I.

Fucking Tampon Wrappers!

2009-01-16T16:09:00.000-08:00

Natracare organics: do you sit around and laugh at how fucking impossible it is to get the plastic wrapper off your fucking organic cotton tampons? Or are you so totally fucking stoned like most hippies that you think you're doing us all a favor, giving us a puzzle to contemplate while blood drips down our thighs? Around and around and around you spin the tampon, attempting to determine where the wrapper begins . . . or is it where the wrapper ends? Wow, that's deep!

Seriously fuckers -- your natural pussy pellets need a more practical wrapping, not this endless line of yellow with no way to figure out where to try to unpeel the little fuckers. I stood in my bathroom scratching my nail against the plastic trying to find the place to start ripping it off until I fucking screamed. If I could have brained myself into oblivion with your stupidly-packaged product, I would have.

Absolute crock of shit.

PMS

2008-08-19T15:40:00.000-07:00

Having an EXTREMELY difficult time with PMS today. I don't want to look at anyone or hear anyone or be bothered by anyone or anything.

MY COMPUTERS ARE MOVING SO SLOWLY. I want to throw things, rip my hair out, and just freak out. Total tantrum welling up in me and just hugely irritable energy.

Everything my body needs to do is driving me nuts/feels like a major interruption. Oh, you need to PEE again? Fucking stupid body, interrupting me. Hungry now, are we? I'll shove some food down your throat, asshole body. Label itching my side needs to be scratched makes me want to shred my skin and rip the shirt to bits.

I've been working on one thing for three days now and I am so fucking sick of it and want to SCREAM. But I want it to be better, not totally half-assed. I know it won't be perfect, but yeah. And every. little. PROCESS involved is taking so much time.

When I forget something and need to go into another room to get it so I can do whatever I'm trying to do, I want to scream and throw things.

So yeah -- PMS means wanting to scream and throw things a lot.

Silencio, Por Favor

2008-07-24T11:13:00.000-07:00

I've been up for an hour.

The feeling I have right now of not wanting to talk or interact or look at anyone or listen to their sounds is absolutely painful. I can feel it in my crotch, like screaming tension.

Jesus, send me some fucking medication. I wish I didn't feel this way. But even more than that I naturally, intuitively wish I could cushion and hide myself from the stimuli when it's driving me fucking insane.

I know if I went for a brisk walk/got some exercise I'd feel better BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT I WANT TO DO RIGHT NOW. I just want still, quiet peace.

Since I went off the pill a year ago I've gradually gotten to a state where I feel like I have pms ALL THE TIME. I suspect I have a hormone problem that involves too much testosterone and too little estrogen. God I want my estrogen back. Pleeeeeeeeeease.

Giant Tortillas

2008-06-08T14:42:00.000-07:00

I hate giant so-called "burrito" gauge tortillas. I wish I could enforce a no-giant-tortillas-in-the-house rule. EVER. There are a plethora of tortilla sizes to choose from at the store, and the only one that should ever gain entrance into our house is the small/mediumish taco-sized tortillas. NO MORE GIANT TORTILLAS EVER! GAHHHHH!

One problem with giant tortillas is they are impossible to fully, uniformly heat unless you possess a fucking half-stovetop-sized GRIDDLE. Or if you're one of those crazy people who heats tortillas in the OVEN (or an even crazier person who will happily eat a stiff, fridge-cold tortilla). I am a stovetop tortilla-warmer, preferring to warm mine to toasty pliability in a skillet. I detest seeing a giant tortilla outsizing a frying pan, crinkling up around the edges, not getting HOT around the edges. God almighty, spare me that torture. What if I were to try to make a quesadilla? What then? Then cheese wouldn't properly melt around the outside!! Thank god I'm lactose intolerant, otherwise I would REALLY be screaming.

Giant tortillas also ruin my ability to guiltlessly overeat. If you do fill one of those monster tortillas with meat, legumes and vegetables, you know you have before you an entire meal encapsulated in ONE tortilla; you can't fool yourself into thinking you've only had half or one-fourth a portion. If you go back for a second and/or third helping of filling shrouded by giant tortilla, you KNOW you're a gluttonous hog and there's no excuse for it except for your own greedy appetite. With small tortillas you feel totally legit starting out with two or three, then going back for two or three more. Twice. Or three times. And you can tell yourself that THEY WERE REALLY SMALL TORTILLAS!

Lame Ageist McCain Jokes

2008-05-29T13:49:00.000-07:00

I am SO WEARY of the "John McCain is so old!" jokes. They're fucking stupid, repetitive, offensive, and useless. I can get behind some of the old pope jokes or acknowledging anyone who's clearly on death's doorstep and looks similar to a doddering corpse, but frankly? I don't view John McCain as ancient so the jokes are lost on me plus there are five billion more interesting jokes to be made about McCain. I don't want to hear the Barbara Walters jokes, either.

I turned off Craig Ferguson the other night because he made an old McCain joke about how he didn't want to have to sit next to him at dinner and feel obligated to cut his food into little pieces for him. Not that Ferguson is worse than the others, I just reached my limit and felt an immense tiredness upon hearing that and couldn't stand to look at his face anymore. Seriously, it's not at all funny. It's stupid and immensely insulting to a huge population of people who are trying to enjoy a time in their lives when many people have much to celebrate and offer the world. Instead of being honored they are met multiple times a day with dismissive, disrespectful, nastily stereotyped messages that they are somehow overstaying their welcome in the world and are silly, incompetent retards to think they have anything to offer society besides being the butt of stale jokes told by unimaginative, juvenile minds to be absorbed by youth-obsessed, elder-hating idiots.

I am not saying I "honor" John McCain or think because he's older he or anyone his age should automatically be praised and worshiped -- I don't -- he's just an example. The whole thing makes me want to make a list of people who've made part of their livings yukking it up making fun of old people JUST because they're old(er) and when they get to be retirement age, harassing the fuck out of them. Hey, you worthless piece of shit! You're over sixty-five now! Fuck off and die!

The way I was raised no one ever got those stupid black balloons for anyone's fortieth birthday. I was taught to celebrate aging and to keep living and working as long as possible. I was never taught to think of older people as targets for discrimination, humiliation, or idiotic assumptions regarding their abilities, fitness, adaptability, attractiveness, etc. I was taught that your value INCREASES with age. Instead everywhere I look we're all being told our worth diminishes with every passing year. It's fucking sickening and I wish people would knock it off. I refuse to accept that being older automatically turns you into a joke.

I'm guessing part of our problem is how mobile and wealthy we are so that it's easy for us to throw away older people into retirement communities, snowbird states, and nursing homes and rarely, if ever, visit and interact with them. We've segregated and dehumanized them. Or maybe it reflects a growing resentment of how much money we are spending/losing taking care of them now that they live longer? Or is it simply because we're a nation of stupid assholes?

Fucking Napster!!

2008-03-28T12:06:00.000-07:00

Help request to Napster:

"I don't know what version you changed things, but after years I suddenly can't figure out how to burn a cd. It used to be I just dragged the songs into the window at the bottom, but now? It says to "drag and drop the tracks you want to burn onto "Burn a CD" in your library. I SEE NOTHING OF THE SORT IN MY LIBRARY OR ANYWHERE. WTF????? So frustrating. While I'm griping, might I mention that clicking on the $ to buy a track on the top tracks thing rarely allows me to buy a track? Lameness. I also find it annoying that I buy music all the time, yet am treated as substandard because I'm not a "member". That chaps my hide. I want to pay for individual tracks & own them. Case closed. How does that make me a less valuable customer? Whatever. Just tell me how to burn my cd's.

Oh dear lord: why do the two buttons at the bottom of this form say "Absenden" and "Cancel"? WHAT THE HELL IS ABSENDEN?????"

I have a show tomorrow and want to burn a mix right now but will probably have to wait a week before they write back with some completely useless piece of non-advice. FUCKERS!!

Honkers

2007-11-27T22:47:00.000-08:00

Grrrr . . . I fucking hate people who can't haul their lazy asses out of a car to knock on someone's door rather than whizzing up and HONKING so everyone in the neighborhood has to hear them. What the fuck?

One of our neighbors (not even the bad neighbors, but people we generally hear little enough from) has what I imagine is a cranky ex-wife who always honks when she pulls into their driveway. My theory is that she's a fucking bitch who resents sharing custody or something and rather than parking her cunt car and getting out to knock like a civil human being, she decides to disrupt everyone with her impatient beeping. Bitch, get the fuck out of your car! It's not that fucking hard!

It's not like her car will be stolen if she leaves it running for a minute in the driveway, nor is it blocking anyone. Also, she does it regardless of the weather so it's not that she's avoiding rain or cold or anything. It can be a beautiful starry summer night and she still won't get her bitch ass out of the car.

The only excuse for it I can imagine is if she is handicapped. But I don't think she is.

People at the Gym

2007-10-09T17:19:00.000-07:00

I could bitch incessantly about people at the gym and how much I dislike them. Today I'll limit my bitching about gymgoers to one thing: LIGHTING.

Our gym has two levels, with banks of gigantic skylights above the top level, which tends to be a quieter area with stretch mats and fewer machines. It is extremely well lit by daylight alone, and totally unnecessary to add obnoxious fluorescent lights during daylight hours. Most of us will turn the lights out when we go up there if they happen to be on.

Except for a few mentally imbalanced and totally inconsiderate people who insist upon flipping the lights on NO MATTER WHAT, and will even bitch at people who turn them off. There's one old guy who feels that way about the lights; he MUST have them on, apparently so he can read (a normal human with normal eyesight could easily read by the natural light). The "funny" part is that he selects the machine in the darkest corner rather than one of the scads of well-lit machines, or machines downstairs where the lights are always on. What the fuck?

Today I turned the lights out when I went up there; no one was up there at the time, but eventually about six of us were happily using the facilities without the artificial lights. Until some crazy ass bitch wearing dangly earrings came up and flipped on the lights. What FOR? WHY??????

She proceeded to spray disinfectant all over her machine of choice BEFORE she ever got on it, in the process spraying Delia who was on the machine right next to her. My guess is she is OCD and turned the lights on so she could more carefully inspect her cootie-covered machine. Either that or she's just a dumb ass. I seriously don't understand people who are afraid to sit down on equipment at the gym. Maybe if it were a grimy gym I could sympathize, but I think it's downright bizarre how germ-phobic some people are.

I'm still not sure why I didn't just get up and turn the lights back off, or "confront" her about it. I know it's not because I'm normal and normal people don't get in confrontations about things like that. I was partly afraid that she might have an actual mental problem. I also didn't want everyone to think/know I'm an asshole. I was also not sure what I would do if I turned the lights back off, and she went over there and turned them right back on; would we just keep going back and forth, faster and faster, like in cartoons? I didn't have the energy to think of what my next strategic move would be. Or maybe I just enjoyed staring at her fat ass and sending evil vibes to her while I was on the rowing machine behind her; it made the time pass so quickly, staring at her and pondering what made her tick.

I wish the gym would adopt a policy of conserving energy during daylight hours, and post a note to keep the lights off up there. I was going to write a suggestion, but they got rid of the suggestion box. Lucky for them.

Silence - I'd rip out my ovaries to get some

2007-07-27T17:23:00.000-07:00

I don't know what my problem is this afternoon, but I don't. Want. To hear. ANY SOUNDS. I feel really hypersensitive to noises right now. The door knocking back and forth in the frame because of the wind circulating through the house. The sound of Delia's music in her office to accompany her shows. The fucking CROW cawing incessantly outside my window. The sound of cars driving over gravel. The hum of planes. The grating noise of a computer thinking.

I think I can even hear myself blinking, I'm feeling that tender.

God grant me a fucking padded cell already.

Seriously, I feel horrible about being so irritable; it makes me act like an asshole. I dream, though, of having a custom-built home with super-insulated walls and floor/ceilings with my office and one other room, at least, totally soundproof so I can FUCKING CONCENTRATE. I don't want to hear people I don't want to hear machines I don't want to hear birds I just want to have my mind to myself.

The funny part is that other times I really love noise, especially the noise I make myself. I actually *love* hearing crows and cars and computer noise and music. SOMETIMES. While others? I wish we had an underground bomb shelter where no noise could penetrate and no one would find me.

Fucking Apple

2007-06-30T13:43:00.000-07:00

I just installed the new iTunes and now it won't recognize my iPod nano. What a fucking piece of shit -- I cannot STAND wasting time researching how to get shit to start working properly. Bugs the FUCK out of me. All I want to do is put some podcasts on my nano and instead? WASTE OF FUCKING TIME.

Fuckers.

Keys, Motherfucker???

2007-06-23T21:23:00.001-07:00

Where are the motherfucking keys?????

I feel like I'm TRAPPED in the house because my girlfriend insists upon hiding the keys in her pockets or baggage or whatever rather than putting them on the table, the same table I manage to set them upon whenever I'm done with them. Well, I almost always put them on the same table, but if not . . . on one of two other tables, conveniently located for key-finding.

She's doing a private show right now so I have to sit here, WAITING, while she makes money. I can't even feel right about hoping her customer hurries up because that would mean less money. I'm *so* tempted, though, to burst into the chatroom and interrupt them both to ask WHERE ARE THE MOTHERFUCKING KEYS????

Rake on Gravel = Fingernails on Chalkboard

2007-06-23T21:18:00.000-07:00

It's almost 9:30, nearly dark out . . . I opened the window to get some fresh air and what do I hear? The scraping of gravel with a metal-tined instrument of auditory torture. RIGHT OUTSIDE OUR HOUSE.

The lady up the hill from us must have hired some boy to smooth out her gravel driveway which is right in front of our driveway which is where we turn around. So I actually feel sort of badly, like I should go out there and offer to help or pay for the labor or something since we are part of why it gets UNsmooth.

But fuck, I am so not in the mood to talk to anybody right now or smile or any of that nonsense. Plus I can never remember her god-damned name (she's really nice, though, our neighbor responsible for the crazed raking).

From Gwyn

2007-06-22T23:36:00.000-07:00

Here's an excellent rant from Gwyn.

Chatty Gym-Goers

2007-06-22T23:22:00.000-07:00

Yak, yak yak, giggle, teeheehee.

Who are these assholes who go to the gym and spend the entire time bullshitting? I wish the gym would have a couple hours of quiet time on their schedule when they DON'T blast stupid music over their stereo system and people are discouraged from yacking. I just want to hear the sounds of the equipment and the songs on my iPod, thank you. NOT the stupid bitch with the high-pitched voice chattering on and ON and fucking on. SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

Seriously, if she can still talk while she's supposedly doing cardio then she must not be working hard enough.

What are they WAITING for??

2007-05-22T22:03:00.000-07:00

It really annoys me when ebay sellers refuse to leave feedback for me, the buyer, until after I've left THEM feedback. I find it very hostile and annoying that after I've done my job of paying for their items that they seem to think I am also obligated to leave them positive feedback before they will leave any for me. It's actually really threatening because basically they're letting you know that if you complain about the items they've sold you or how long it takes to ship them, that they won't leave positive feedback for you even though you've already held up your end of the bargain.

I know I'm a total dork for taking ebay feedback so seriously.

Yahoo Search????

2007-04-28T10:16:00.000-07:00

How in the FUCK did my quickie search engine box in my browser turn into a yahoo search box instead of GOOGLE?? When and why did ths happen? So fucking annoying . . . yahoo search results suck ass.

Matchbox Bullshit

2007-04-13T20:55:00.000-07:00

Grrrrr . . . those fucking matchbox fuckers!! You know how a large box of matches is an open box fitted with a cardboard sleeve that you slide back to reveal the matches inside? Well, they make both sides of the sleeve look IDENTICAL so that you can't immediately tell which side is UP and which side is DOWN. Which side is the TOP and which side is the motherfucking BOTTOM?

So you have shit on your mind, trying to plan a romantic evening for which you plan to light candles so you grab the box of matches and you open the motherfucking only to have the matches spill all over the floor because the bitch is upside down.

I can't figure out why they do that, unless it's to make it easier in the store to tell what the box is, in case it gets put back on the shelf upside down or backside out or something. What absolute ridiculousness.

Yipping Heelbiters

2007-04-06T12:41:00.000-07:00

It's a beautiful spring day, really the first warm enough to have all of the doors and windows open. The sky is blue, I work at home . . . life is beautiful.

EXCEPT for the yipping little demon dog a block away. One of its inconsiderate owners is mowing the lawn while he completely ignores his peace-disturbing ceaselessly-barking high-pitched-squeaking lap-mongrel. The people at that house are the types who are constantly standing in their driveway yapping on their fucking cell phones -- the types who don't comprehend the meaning of peace and quiet or, you know, self-consciousness but instead are always busying themselves with conspicuous yacking and flapping of their jaws so its no wonder they don't give a flying fuck about their shitty little dog's noise pollution and how it totally shatters the joy of a nice day. It's so intrusive!! How am I supposed to concentrate enough to work with that HORRID racket?

Rescue Remedy

2007-02-08T17:11:00.000-08:00

Shitty-ass little sticky bottle with its impossible-to-unscrew top! How can I be "rescued" when I can't even open the bottle to get at the potion?

Not that this bullshit works anyway, but the placebo effect MIGHT if I could actually OPEN the cocksucking bottle!

I'm so ready to throw this little bottle across the room, stomp on it, and smash it into tiny alcohol-drenched bits.

Snow

2007-01-15T09:53:00.000-08:00

I hate the fucking snow. I hate the fuckers who get all shiny and happy about snowfall. Impractical asshats.

Normally in western Washington state we only see it snow once or twice a year and it quickly melts, but no . . . not THIS year. What a bitch ass crock of shit. I have shit to do and places to go in our beater van with it's tractionless tires. Fuck this snow, fuck this ice, and fuck everyone who thinks it's fantastic.

Frozen Milk Glasses!!

2007-01-01T13:48:00.000-08:00

There is a certain amount of (soy) milk I need near me to consume during meals, and it requires a tall glass. My favorite glasses are thick with handles; they are the right size and keep my hands from the too-cold glass (I don't like getting my fingers chilled).

But somewhere along the line my boyfriend started putting my favorite milk glasses IN THE FREEZER, I assume to chill them for beer, which he never drinks out of a glass anyway, or maybe he does it because he thinks I'll like it too, or maybe to keep cupboard space open. Anyway, it irritates me but I haven't resolved to say something bitchy about it yet to make him stop so I've been relying upon one or two other glasses, and some glasses that are of substandard sizes.

I feel like it would be nicer of me to just go buy some more glasses and let him have his damnable frozen beer mugs.

Telemarketing is Life Destroying!!!!

2006-07-23T12:04:00.000-07:00

Here's a lady who actually hates telemarketing more than I do: Crazy telemarketer call.

The scary part is that I actually relate to that lady more than the little punk-ass telemarketer.

New Versions of Napster

2006-07-15T10:12:00.000-07:00

I get sick and fucking tired of Napster repeatedly coming out with new versions and not allowing me to continue enjoying the old ones. I want to download something RIGHT NOW, not fucking get sent to install hell. I am busy and have many apps running that need to KEEP running, not be set on the back burner so I can reset my machine to complete yet another bullshit update on Napster just so I can download a couple of songs.

The stupidest part is that they never seem to get rid of the annoying pop-ups inviting you to upgrade. I use Napster to buy singles, not as a radio and they should leave me alone if that is my preference.

And don't tell me iTunes is better, because it's not. I hate that shit.

Waiting

2006-07-06T00:03:00.000-07:00

The goddamned dog likes to nest under our computer desks so we keep her out of our offices, but she has commandeered the desk in our living area which holds two computers plugged into a power strip plugged into an outlet . . . under the desk. She rubs her shit up against it and loosens it, making the computers turn off, which makes us lose three of our voyeurcams, and of course concerns us that she'll get shocked and/or we'll have power surge problems with those computers.

I fucking hate standing around rebooting computers. HATE WAITING FOR THEM TO DO THEIR SHIT. Tonight I got this big nasty error on our main laptop after the dog did this again, and we canNOT afford a computer problem now. Can *NOT*. It seems to be working now, but I really despise ending my evening standing around worrying about shit like this, waiting for the computer to do it's thing, blah blah blah. Fucking WORK already. I wish I had a robot to take care of retarded crap like this but then it would just be one more bullshit machine to have to fix.

FluckR

2006-06-26T12:21:00.000-07:00

What is up with the Flickr romance? I don't get it -- everytime I go to someone's stupid Flickr page IT TAKES FOREVER TO LOAD. EVERYTHING takes forever to load on that site. And then people seem to enjoy being sucked into this comment vortex where you give sappy compliments on every fucking image posted. Do people not have better things to do? Flickr is a fucking waste of time.

Tales From Packaging Hell

2006-05-22T19:30:00.000-07:00

Wired talks about one of my biggest pet peeves: Tales From Packaging Hell.

It's fantastic to see this nuisance addressed and have some medical statistics to back up the harm that this shit causes. And it doesn't even mention the blood pressure issues! ;)

Shitty Ass Mouse

2006-04-11T23:10:00.000-07:00

Ugh -- I hate sitting at my boyfriend's computer. The machine itself rocks, but he keeps using the free cheap-ass mouse that came with it instead of switching to the nice one he had hooked up to the laptop.

Cheap shitty-ass mouses suck, give you carpal tunnel syndrome, and destroy work efficiency, not to mention creating accidents when you click on the wrong thing because the ball hasn't scrolled to the position you anticipated, the position it would have IF it weren't a cheap motherfucking worthless piece of shit.

Springing Forward

2006-04-08T10:28:00.000-07:00

I fucking detest the component of Daylight Savings Time known as "springing forward". I don't want to lose an hour of sleep, no no NO I don't.

The sickening part is that it throws me for such a loop that I more than make up for it in naps, and a vicious cycle is perpetuated: nap due to sleep loss from Daylight Savings Time, look at clock and get depressed seeing how late it is and that I've lost so much time, depressed tired feeling induces more napping, and so on.

The only good thing about it is that it's darker in the morning longer, keeping those damnable birds quiet for a while longer until the days get so long we barely have any blessed night. Sigh.

Flakiness

2006-04-07T12:53:00.000-07:00

I hate it when I have something really bitchy to gripe about, but by the time I sit down at the computer I can't remember what it was or recall the fury with which I bitched about it earlier.

Music I can't Turn OFF!!

2006-03-12T20:07:00.000-08:00

I fucking hate websites that automatically set music to playing when their page loads AND FAIL TO HAVE AN AUDIO-ON/OFF option clearly visible at the top of the page. I just went to MadTV and had to just close the browser since the whole thing is flash based so just hitting "stop" doesn't make the music stop.

Bombarding me with stimuli really sends me into convulsions of anxious misery. I suppose it has a lot to do with having Attention Deficit Disorder, but I can't mentally process 1) a noisy song with lyrics, 2) an unfamiliar site layout, 3) text, and 4) other visual stimuli (photos, etc.) all at the same time. I'm just not up to the challenge.

I'm a very impatient surfer, and I prefer to deal with one thing at a time and visit sites that make it easy for me to find what I'm looking for without waiting, without sacrificing hot keys for their own personalized bullshit manners of navigation, and without crazy auditory distractions. I think it's cool if people offer audio as long it's easy to turn off. If I have to hunt for it, or there is no possibility of turning it off, your site is a worthless annoying piece of shit to me.

Phone Company BULLSHIT

2005-09-07T11:51:00.000-07:00

Over twenty-two minutes on the fucking phone with the stupid fucking phone company just to cancel my wireless Sprint PCS Vision. First, there's the automated bullshit of speaking to a computer: state your name, state your phone number, state your business. Of course, it doesn't understand "cancel pcs vision". It sounds like you want repairs! NO, Mr. Computer. It doesn't understand "CANCEL". It also doesn't understand, "fuck off and die -- get me a motherfucking human being on the phone."

So of course, I have to go through verifying my name, rank and serial number with some woman who then transfers me to some guy named JOE who also needs to verify my name, phone number, and address (did I not just do this? What the fuck? After verifying all of this with the woman who transferred me, did I hand the phone to some nefarious entity who doesn't know my name, phone number and address? I don't think so.

So since Joe wanted me to repeat everything I already told the other woman, I made sure to tell him EVERYTHING I told her, including, "I know it's not your fault but that automated system is really annoying and didn't understand the word 'CANCEL' *plus* it's really annoying that after verifying this information with one person, I have to go through it all over again with you." I can tell Joe thinks I'm an unreasonable bitch. So now Joe says, "and I see it's been a year since we've verified your credit information. What's your work phone number?" I'm like, "why do you need to know this?" Whatever, I tell Joe I work for myself. He wants to know the phone number. I tell Joe he already has my phone number since I work at home. Joe says, "no I don't!" Yes you do Joe. You have my phone number right on your fucking screen and I've verified it with you fuckwads twice already.

Then Joe wants to know what I do. I tell him, "I'm a pornographer." He pauses. "You're a WHAT?" A pornographer Joe . . . and a sex worker. Joe donned a bitchy voice, "well if that's what you do, that's what you do." Yes it's what I do moron, and it's none of your business. Then he needs to know where my boyfriend works and what his phone number is (and he totally didn't seem to believe me that his phone number is the same as mine).

Of course, I couldn't get off the phone with Joe until he tried to sell me on a new long distance plan, DSL, and DirecTV. He scoffed at my choice of internet service provider, and must have thought I was lying when I told him that we don't WATCH television. Then Joe and I argued some more about the ridiculous nature of all of this bullshit, and what I think is so fucked up is that these people will DEFEND the corporation's ludicrous methods of invasive harrassment when you're just trying to cancel a simple service. A call that should take two minutes suddenly is almost a half hour. That is FUCKED UP. And people complain about porn sites being hard to cancel. BULLSHIT. These automated systems, crossells, and information collecting things are just BULLSHIT. It makes me just want to unplug from the world and all of it's fucked up nonsense. I've been paying my bill with this phone company for fourteen years. They do not need to know what I do for a living, and they should believe me when I say I don't want to buy anything else today I just want to GET OFF THE FUCKING PHONE. Joe was a monstrous little prick and I hope he has fun in the break room talking about what a bitch he had on the phone today. Face it, Joe -- your job sucks ass.

Crusty Cast Iron

2005-09-04T12:37:00.000-07:00

I fucking hate washing cast iron frying pans. I hate scraping, I hate the grease that runs off them to coat the sink, I hate the whole "to use soap or not to use soap" dilemma, I hate the curing and the bullshit and that they are TOO FUCKING HEAVY FOR ME TO LIFT with my weak little pansy-ass wrist.

They look so quaint and rustic, but I have no more use for them in my life. I wonder if my boyfriend would notice if I threw them away while he's gone?

I suppose the main issue is just that I hate most types of manual labor and resent every second spent doing something so mundane and repetitive when I could actually be doing some kind of work that actually gives me pleasure and produces something different than the last thing I produced. When you finish with the pots and pans? Anticlimax. And the depressing awareness that they will just get dirty again and that it's a thankless fucking task you only do to prevent yourself from winding up in squalor, filth, and mold without a clean thing to eat. I fucking HATE it.

Sallie Fucking Mae

2005-07-19T11:50:00.000-07:00

I hate these fuckers. I haven't gotten any information from them -- no bills, no updates, no tax forms, no nothing -- for about six years because they make it so fucking hard to change your address. Instead of all the old-fashioned ways of verifying your identity (date of birth, mother's maiden name, etc.) they want your old address, your old email address, your old zip code, your old phone number.

Perhaps this would be less problematic if I had changed these things immediately upon leaving my husband, but there really seemed to be no point considering that Sallie Mae took my payments automatically out of my bank account. Without a sense of urgency, I procrastinated on it until I no longer had my old address or phone number on the tip of my tongue (seriously, I can barely remember how old I am or my current phone number, let alone all of the numbers associated with a place I lived six months, a year, or six years ago). Why would I remember one of six email addresses I had with aol eight years ago??? Seriously fuckers . . . what a ludicrous idiotic method of verifying someone's identity. It's tragic.

Finally this poor Indian s.o.b. on the phone just went ahead and updated my information. Those poor poor saps. Am I the only one with these problems? I told him I knew it wasn't his fault, but that Sallie Mae is really really really really stupid. If my old address, my old email, or my old phone number still meant anything to me I wouldn't need to change all of that information. Jesus H.

Wet Sleeves

2005-07-01T15:53:00.000-07:00

Oh my god it drives me nuts when the cuff of my shirt's long sleeve gets wet. Ewwwwww -- that clammy damp cloth clinging to my wrist drives me totally insane.

This happens to me most often when I fill my hot water bottle (for my feet because I hate it when they are cold) and some of it dribbles onto my filling-arm. Gahhhhhhh!!

Children at Play

2005-06-18T20:52:00.001-07:00

I fucking hate the summertime in the Pacific Northwest. Few of us have air-conditioning in our homes because the rare high(ish) temperatures do not warrant it. Instead, we open our windows.

And what do we hear?

Potlucks, picnics, and summer vacation. Children at play. The bounding terrified sound of hoarse hollers while running. Threatening games of tag, sudden screams of pain. Their bloody fucking laughter.

I resent that there are communities for senior living, but no communities specifically set up for adults of all ages who simply hate children. I resent that there are happy assholes who are charmed by the sounds of children at play and claim to feel emotionally improved by the intrusive sounds of youngsters shouting.

Shut those little bastards up!!!

Anti-Theft Devices

2005-05-02T10:16:00.000-07:00

I fucking hate the anti-theft wrapping they put on dvd's. They've got impossible-to-open cellophane tightly wrapping the entire thing, then they've got fucking THREE unbreachable sticky anti-theft doohickeys on every side of the case except the hinge side. Fucking COME ON.

Someday I hope to have a maid or a slave I can toss these at, because I fucking hate trying to open these SOBs. It's ridiculous when you buy something on the internet and they ship it to you with all of that stuff. Who am I going to steal from? Myself? Fucking give it a rest.

Then again, I make the process somewhat harder than necessary by refusing to simply slice through the stickers with scissors. I could do that, you know, just make the package openable . . . but I *can't* abide leaving that crap on the dvd case. It's so ugly.

It wasn't like this when people bought RECORDS. You know? Nice big album art, and none of this plasticized anti-theft CRAP.

Overpopulation of Submissive Women

2005-03-13T12:15:00.000-08:00

I'm going on a shooting rampage if I see one more sex blog by a submissive woman, detailing how hot and horny she gets being overpowered by a man (or men).

What the FUCK??

Seriously, I have as much imagination as the next sex worker, so I can empathize with the allure of submission even if I rarely or never find myself wanting to be dominated to the extremes these women enjoy. I hate to be judgemental of other people's sexuality, so I try to remember that just because *I* am disgusted by most forms of female submission that doesn't mean I can't respect other women openly embracing their desire to submit.

But. I do not understand why the majority of female sex bloggers seem to be subs. The lack of variety really freaks me out . . . there's no BALANCE in the sex blogosphere; very very very few dominant women maintain explicit sex blogs (and that's another "issue" for me: the penthouse letteresque or graphic erotica style of blogging which I have a hard time identifying with in and of itself).

It boggles my mind that so many women are submissive, and that so many of them are only interested in telling that story of themselves. That's really the only story you want to share with the world? It's almost as bizarre to me as women who have nothing to talk about but shopping. I hate shopping, but I've got to tell you -- I'd rather be shopping than submitting myself sexually to a man.

This crazy disproportionate sub to Domme ratio begs the question: are all of these submissive bloggers TRULY women? I hate delving into that whole internet gender doubt game, but really . . . you have to wonder. And yet, most of these sub chicky blogs are so flowery and verbose that I tend to think they're girls.

Again, I'm not doubting the fact that many women are truly submissive and get their rocks off that way. What bothers me is how they seem to be so much more visible than truly dominant women (and women who are switches or D/s neutral) and seem to outnumber us. What the fuck is up with that?

I also find it curious that all of these blogs seem to be written by mostly-straight women, or women who only want to be topped by men.

Back to the issue of their STYLE of writing (constantly sexually-charged); perhaps that is the key to the imbalance. Maybe there's a drive to write in that over-the-top manner and to be completely consumed by submission that is lacking in dominant women. Sure, there are plenty of over-the-top femdom websites, but as far as personal blogs, I don't see any of that. Maybe I'm just not looking hard enough, though.

P.S. The other thing that drives me crazy is wondering . . . where are all the submissive women who like to be dominated by other WOMEN? Where are all of the submissive MEN? I know they exist in high numbers (particularly the latter), so why do women who submit to men seem to be the only ones in this crowd with blogs? Well, I take that back . . . I *have* seen a few blogs/LJ's written by dominant men which I find annoying too.

Shoe Size Discrimination Follow-Up

2005-03-12T12:36:00.000-08:00

Remember me bitching about how hard it is for me to find shoes for my itsy bitsy feet?

Well, I ran across these "cute" (and relevant) posts from one of those fashion terrorist types:

Tiny Feets
More about Tiny Feets
From the Archives
Advice for the Small-Footed

This entry doesn't really count as a bitch rant, but I wanted to make sure I don't lose these links. I would love to be able to afford my own personal shoemaker to outfit me with unique perfectly-fitted works of foot-formed art.

Broken News Links

2005-03-12T11:45:00.000-08:00

One of the major benefits of the world wide web is *supposed* to be the ability to store lots and lots of information and make it easily accessible to people. Now, it's not surprising to me that individuals' and other indie websites are full of misinformation on unreliable hosts with changing domain names, etc.

But. It's disgusting to me the way huge news sites fail to understand PERMALINKS. You know, providing a link to news articles that will remain unbroken over time? I do not understand Yahoo's system of making news stories disappear, but even more I do not understand a newspaper or a news network refusing to keep each news story in one location under one name from the time it appears to . . . forever. If bandwidth and storage are too expensive, I *can* kind of understand making the archives for subscriber's only. But just deleting them or moving them somewhere unlocatable is fucking MADDENING.

What exactly is the purpose? Are they trying to make you search around so that you'll see more of their advertisers' banners? I don't fucking get it. These people are fucking clueless about the way the internet works (and how it should work in its ideal state). What a bunch of morons -- thanks for the "news", fuckers!

This is particularly annoying to me on my blog, Domestic Terrorism, which links to ~~sick crime stories~~ news articles. What is the point of blogging if your archives are full of broken links? Or, more specifically, what is the point of PROVIDING a link to another (commercial) site that refuses to respect the traffic you send and makes all of your archives empty of content and worthless? What is the point of respecting copyright when the only option you really have is to duplicate the article in its entirity lest you risk NEVER BEING ABLE TO FIND YOUR SOURCE MATERIAL AGAIN??

I hate these stupid pricks and their stupid news. Thanks for the memories, assholes. It's amazing to me that giant corporations are so fucking ignorant and/or disrespectful of their audiences.

Shoe Size Discrimination

2005-03-10T13:33:00.000-08:00

I am so sick of stores and catalogs not offering size 5 shoes. Apparently no one in this god forsaken country is smaller than a size 6. I'm tired of big people and their big fucking feet while we petite tiny people get stuck making do with children's shoes or stuffing too-big shoes with fillers to keep them from slipping off.

Wearing too-big shoes (even when you layer them with two or three insoles) is painful. PAINFUL. They rise up too far around the ankle, scratching and rubbing the fuck out of your tender ankle skin and bone. They come up too high on the heel, cutting into your tendons.

Aren't there enough itty bitty asian girls with shoe fetishes in this country to warrant offering a wider range of sizes? I am so fucking sick of of this crap, especially since my feet are actually even SMALLER than a five, it's a compromise even wearing those. Once upon a time, though, fives were the beginning of the range of women's sizes damn near everywhere you looked. Now people don't even pretend to cater to us.

I hate normal-sized people and their giant fat clodhoppers. Fuck off and die, size six and abovers. You take up too much space.

Car Alarms

2005-02-26T00:26:00.000-08:00

I hate car alarms, and I sneer at the self-centered materialistic pricks who utilize them.

Our society is clearly fucked up when possessiveness over a hunk of metal supercedes courtesy to others. When an individual thinks his personal automobile is more important than other people's sleep, than other people's eardrums, and simply the preservation of an atmosphere free of loud ALARMS . . . god, it's so fucking insane and selfish I don't even know how it's legal.

People have been stealing cars since cars were invented. I don't think the problem is crime worsening, the problem is materialism worsening. If your car is so fucking precious that insurance won't cover your loss, please . . . buy a less expensive car or keep it locked up in a garage. I can't believe car alarms are legal . . . I just can't. It's revolting.

Whenever I see some chubby little prick with greasy hair taking one last look and aiming his keychain at his stupid fucking SUV or whatever the fuck, issuing forth a chirp or mini-alarm, calling attention to his asinine self before walking away from his precious fucking vehicle, I just want to laugh in his face, slap him, and throw shit at his car.

Everytime we ride the ferry, there is some fucking asshole who sets his or her stupid fucking alarm on the car deck before heading up to get a coffee out of the vending machines in the passenger area. And every time, one of these asshole's alarms goes off because THE FERRY ROCKS, THE FERRY ROLLS, THE FERRY SHAKES AND SHUDDERS. And listen . . . no one can steal your fucking car when it's on the water in the middle of Puget Sound anyway, so fucking relax for a half hour (or stay in your car if there's something so priceless in it that you fear someone will break in). There is a vanity, a selfishness, a materialism, and a paranoid insecurity exhibited by car alarmists that revolts and sickens me so deeply, I barely feel capable of relating to my fellow men if this ludicrous practice of rigging your automobile to sound extremely loud and obnoxious ALARMS is not only tolerated, but perfectly mundane and acceptable. More people should be fucking OUTRAGED by car alarms and the assholes who employ them.

Our Loud BITCH Neighbor

2005-02-26T00:15:00.000-08:00

She is an inconsiderate BITCH. The middle of the night, and I can hear her sitting outside, bitching on the phone. She's probably in her late twenties or early thirties, and I have devised all sorts of theories about her. That she doesn't have custody of her little brat child. That the reason for that is she's a BITCH. That she's probably abusive to him (I heard the kid screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night once). That she loves the cock. She loves the cock of abusive men. That guy with the old light blue chevy pickup with a brown dog tied to the truckbed with a rope he easily could have strangled on. The man left the dog out there to yip fearfully. I wanted to kill that man, and kill our BITCH neighbor.

I heard her arguing with her father. Screaming at him for interfering. For ruining her life. I imagined that he was trying to tell her she's not only a bitch, but a STUPID bitch.

I think the cock has left her, so once again her solace in life is sitting on her deck/balcony talking on the phone. Actually, BITCHING on the phone, loudly, in the middle of the night. You'd think the February cold air would deter her from sitting out there like the dumb obnoxious twat she is, yakking her bitch face off so that all her neighbors can hear her . . . but no. She is an inconsiderate bitch. I want to tell her to shut the fuck up.

In general, I can't stand watching or hearing anyone gabbing away on a telephone. It's especially bad when the person clearly holds phone conversations as one of their sole sources of entertainment in life, as though it's a big priority and one of their principle pleasures. These people lack imagination, and they lack the courtesy, self-awareness, and humility to recognize that a) everyone can hear their loud unceasing chatter, and b) other people may not WANT to hear them blabbering and shouldn't HAVE to hear their nasty fucking noise pollution.

Shut the fuck up, bitch.

Floundering

2004-12-24T21:47:00.000-08:00

I am fucking tired of doing busy work and never getting ahead.

Right now it's Christmas eve and I'm working, struggling to get a million things done, feeling like a thousand to-do lists are fluttering around me (and those aren't even HALF of the things I NEEDNEEDNEED to do), and I just want to do nothing. Only I'm not CAPABLE of doing nothing because even then, I am thinking about work / working inside my head.

I hate that even with this constant WORKWORKWORK everything is half-assed, imperfect, unprofitable, lame, and FAR less than extraordinary. Everytime I get one thing done (actually half-done, because nothing I do ever seems finished) it seems like it's time to do it over again a BETTER way and that whatever I've completed is just a puddle of shit. We just have too many projects and I am totally unwilling to drop any of them or sideline them, so I continue to flounder along struggling to keep up in the most half-assed fashion possible.

I can't even keep up with emails. It's moments like this that I despise myself.

I hate wrapping presents. I am not even capable of cutting an appropriately-sized piece of wrapping paper for a motherfucking box. How FUCKING incompetent is THAT?

The more I do, the more it looks like and feels like I'm doing less.

I'm specifically annoyed right now about the low quality of our videos. Sure, they're better than a lot of people's but they could be SO much better. I hate not being able to use music because of fucking copyright laws. Greedy corporate sons of bitches. I hate not having the time to learn a fucking thing to actually get better at what we do. I hate trying to decide how to use my time best. I hate how inefficient I am and how stubbornly I continue to want to do it all, to think if I were just a little smarter or tried a little harder, I could do it all.

I want so much and I am so frustrated.

Fuck it.

.PDF Files

2004-10-29T01:18:00.000-07:00

I fucking hate it when websites link to .pdf files. I don't know why it bothers me so much, but it does. Partly because it takes longer for them to load and requires extra software, partly because you hardly ever know (or notice) that's what you're going to wind up with, partly because my machine freezes up sometimes when trying to open them. And if MY machine freezes up for them, I know lots of other people's do too. Ugh!! HTML please.

WOODEN COOKING UTENSILS

2004-09-29T19:31:00.000-07:00

Big wooden spoons are fucking disgusting. They absorb wetness and remind me of damp mossy logs in the forest. Now, I *adore* damp mossy logs in the forest, but I do not want to use them to stir and serve my food in the kitchen, okay? Fucking nasty.

My boyfriend is fond of wooden cooking utensils, and since he does most of the cooking I shouldn't bitch about his preferred tools. Except then I am left with the mystery of cleaning them, trying to avoid soap so they don't absorb soap flavor, and being left feeling that they are not clean. When I lay them out to dry, I am sure they magnetically pull bacteria breeding factories towards them, absorbing them and making colonies of slimy sewage.

Gross. Stainless steel PLEASE!!

VET BILLS

2004-09-29T13:51:00.000-07:00

I hate that my previous post whined about our precious dog -- she is such a darling, a comfort, a companion, a source of amusement and love . . . and today she's in surgery getting a hopefully-benign tumour removed from her chest.

Over SIX HUNDRED BUCKS though! We spend more money on our dog's healthcare than both of us put together!! Although I do love to bitch, I have a hard time bitching about the vet bill though. I am just happy we can (barely) afford to do it without giving up food for ourselves, etc. I hate seeing older people who are alone struggling to pay to take care of their pets who provide them with so many blessings. It breaks my heart.

So what I *will* bitch about is people who don't fucking get their animals spayed or neutered. I *will* bitch about people who casually collect, then neglect or discard their animals. It makes me fucking sick. My blood boils when people don't want to be confronted with the hard realities of unwanted pets being euthanized and would prefer to let it continue happening rather than be pressured or subjected to educational materials urging people to be more thoughtful and responsible about their animals.

There would be a lot more resources to take care of the animals who DO have loving (but often poor) owners, etc. if we could curb the population growth of dogs and cats.

The Humane Society: Issues Affecting our Pets
SpayUSA.org

My mom just rescued (aka spent tons of $$ on vet bills even though the vet was kind, as they so often are, to do much for free) a little kitty with a busted, infected kneecap. How does this shit happen? So many people are just shitheels, that's how. Compassionless, selfish, stupid fucks.

LICKY DOG SOUNDS

2004-09-21T11:11:00.000-07:00

I fucking hate those sounds the dog makes when she's licking herself, or smacking her lips. I know dogs don't have lips, but that's what it sounds like. I hate sending bad energy her way, but stop that licky noise!!!

Thank god for headphones and earplugs -- those licky noises drive me crazy. She loves to come in where I'm trying to work and concentrate, and groom herself . . . lick lick lick. Those wet jello-sliding-down-plastic-walls sounds are so irksome.

HAIR IN MY FACE

2004-09-21T11:07:00.000-07:00

I fucking hate hair in my face. I hate bending over to pick shit up enough without the added irritation of hair tickling my face. I want to scratch my face off when that happens. I hate trying to do the dishes enough without having my hair get into my face; with my hands all soapy and wet and full of dishes I can never get the hair out of my face fast enough to avoid pinpricks of torturous tickling hairs in my nostrils, eyes . . . wherever.

Why don't I put the shit in a ponytail? Because it makes dents in my hair and I don't want to have to wash them out. Haven't you heard . . . models only wash their hair once a week!!! NOT that I'm a model . . . I'm just a webwhore.

Someday I'm going to cut all of the shit off, shave it to cueball. But since I run amateur indie pornsites featuring myself, it's not good for branding to change my look.