Tuesday, November 27, 2007


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.

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

People at the Gym

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.

Friday, July 27, 2007

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

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.

Saturday, June 30, 2007

Fucking Apple

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.


Saturday, June 23, 2007

Keys, Motherfucker???

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

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).

Friday, June 22, 2007

From Gwyn

Here's an excellent rant from Gwyn.

Chatty Gym-Goers

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.

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

What are they WAITING for??

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.

Saturday, April 28, 2007

Yahoo Search????

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.

Friday, April 13, 2007

Matchbox Bullshit

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.

Friday, April 06, 2007

Yipping Heelbiters

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?

Thursday, February 08, 2007

Rescue Remedy

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.

Monday, January 15, 2007


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.

Monday, January 01, 2007

Frozen Milk Glasses!!

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.