Why do some parents feel the need to say their very young children (like infant/toddler/barely in kindergarten age) have a boyfriend or girlfriend? It's not cute. It's kind of creepy. Can't you just let your kid have some friends without implying a sexual nature to the relationship?
They will have DECADES of pressure ahead of them with regard to the dating scene. At least wait until they are closer to puberty or at least potty trained before you start speculating about their love lives!
In addition to the self-mutilators who "ball [their] eyes out," I have begun to take issue with message board posters who say someone must "tow the line" after a mishap and those of "wait with baited breath" for something to happen.
I am re-peeving from 2011 but it's worth a repeat mention.
Criterion is singular. Criteria is plural. Remember this before you put it in writing.
I'm moving to a new cubicle at work!
It's ten feet away from my old one!
Yet I have to box up and label all the stuff in this cubicle so the MOVERS can place it two cubicles away. And I have to have it done by 2:00 on Friday afternoon. And I have to spend Monday morning unpacking everything.
I'm glad Management is around to interpret all of this for us lowly worker bees.
I'm not a big Starbucks user, mainly because the city in which I live doesn't have one on every block. But this summer I thought I would try the Frappuccino for the first time, and I like the little crunchy bits of crushed ice with coffee flavors. I thought I'd work my way through all the flavors, won't that be fun? Obviously my life lacks excitement.
Today I tried the vanilla Frap. First of all, it's not coffee. It's practically a vanilla milkshake without the yummy ice cream. They should warn you about that. I mean, I know I didn't do my research on their website. Second, it's disgusting how sweet it is. I think I'm giving myself diabetes. Third, this little fucker costs over $4, so I feel guilty throwing it out. But I will because it's making me sick. I think I'm done with my little experiment.
I called the contractor. I arranged the meeting. I met him at my house. I showed him the jobs to be completed. I asked that he email the estimate to me.
So why is the estimate addressed to my husband?
What in the hell is a "belief system"?
I have seen this phrase pop up pretty frequently.
Is there ever a case where the word "beliefs" could not be substituted with more economy and more elegance? I doubt it since I do not know what on earth is a belief system. Pfft. Sloppy thinking and sloppy writing.
What's happening, everyone? Another day, another dollar. Another week gone by. I'm tight on time this week, so my typical introduction will be pretty poor and pathetic. Hey, I can't be on the ball all the time, yo! I've been spending a lot of time at home lately, so I thought what better thing to focus on for this weeks PoY than....Home/Family/Pets? Enjoy homies!
I have an idea, Meribon. Just burn the house down (and collect the insurance money). How's that for santeria? Santeria that, buddy! I'd probably keep the candles, though. Just to be safe, you know?
You just wait, Joanne. The day "they" find Twitter, and figure out how to link that shiz up to "The Facebook," our lives are over. Every minute, on the minute, not only will you get a tweet, but you get an alert on FB that something has been posted on FB via Twitter. The world is coming to an end - technology and parents are a cocktail made for a bad hangover. Trust me. I know. They're smart little buggers, those parents.
If you get this, Amy, I'll love you forever. What kind of pearls are we talking about? Do sea monkey's "wear" pearl necklaces? Do they wear the pearls with the sea-monkey dog? If so, they are not very family friendly toys.
Guess what, Nikki? You don't need to have a four year old to have that shiz all over the place. I dare say, a girl, 24 years old can do much more damage with glitter than a four year old. Trust me, I still find that shiz all over the house. Remnants of the previous "woman of the house." And, I use "woman" VERY loosely (in many ways). If I have a daughter, that glitter shit will never enter my lair.
Hey, have a freaking great weekend. Also, please remember to salute all of our past, present, and future soliders. We would not be able to enjoy the freedom and opportunities we have, with out them. To all the soliders, I salute you.
I have been noticing that granola is generally containing an increasing portion of Rice Krispies.
If I wanted soggy Rice Krispies I would call up Snap or his partners.
What is next? Velcro Birkenstocks?
Good grief. I don't think a hand-cranked cheese grater is a sophisticated piece of machinery.
We went to a place for lunch where they will grate the cheese on your food, and through some feat of legerdemain the waiter managed to get more grated parmesan on my chest and lap than ended up in the bowl.
Happy Friday, Friends! The weather where I live is finally deciding to somewhat align itself with the month of May. Last year, we were already bitchin' and moaning about 80 degree weather in March. Well, I guess Mother Earth heard us, and decided to teach us a lesson. We've learned! We've learned! Srrrsly.
So, the past couple of weeks have been kind of a roller coaster for me, not gonna lie, yo. I'm transitioning out of my current job, while I seek out a new position. I have enjoyed the time with my current company, but look forward to getting back to what I know I'm good at. What is that, you may ask? Well, I'm a marketing and communications and media and promotions whore...all the way to the brim, I am. Proud of it, too. This may not sound exciting to all of you, but I have been secretly stalking an agency out here ever since I moved seven years ago. Well....I've landed an interview for two positions they currently have open. You have no freaking clue how excited I am...or maybe you do. If I could simply ask all of my peever lovers out there to cross their fingers, throw a coin in a well, meditate, or anything else that may help my chances, on Monday at 1:30CST, I will love you forever. I promise.
Due to the fact that my mind is in 50 different places right now, and it's hard to focus on one subject due to my excitement, I will be providing you a pocket full-o-flavor today. Who loves random peeves? I do! I do! Enjoy...
I think Kate the Peon needs to give her trainer a little math lesson. March him over to the scale, stand on it and ask, "X number minus 30. What is that number? Now, shut the eff up! Do your job, encourage my ass, and yell at me like Jillian Michaels until I get to that number! And then??? Shut the hell up and yell at someone else!" I think that will take care of your little Juicehead problem.
I'm not quite sure what the worst part of this experience is, Blaugra? The actual product chosen by this "woman who is of similar age," the fact that the chosen counting method was one by one by one by one, or the odd total number of said product? Either way, after three I'd want to kick her in the shins. Dummy. Count before you come to the counter!
May I offer a suggestion, Kayteadee? Should this happen again, you just tell those bitches that you have a hardline to Al Gore. And, can they imagine how shit pissed he would be if he knew your garbage was outside rotting and spewing pollution into the air? Okay, maybe it's not much better than sitting in a landfill. However, at least they cover they shit up, and try to plant trees on the garbage.
I've been in this same situation, Red. Sounds like you were much more classy than I ever was. I decided a little bumper-carts was in order. Attempting to cut in line in front of me is a big no-no. I'll take you down, down to Chinatown. Oh, it's on like Donkey Kong. I don't believe I have ever lost, either.
If only everyone listened to Peeved Michelle's instructions on how to eat and chew your food in a normal and civilized manner, I would definitely have fewer homicidal thoughts
Have a wonderful weekend, everyone. If you've got yourself one of those...those...those Mom's, yes, Mom's, be kind to her this weekend. It's Yo Mama's Day this weekend. Oh, and don't forget about Monday, please? I'd send you a calendar invite, but that may look a wee bit desperate. OUT.
In the past couple of weeks I have received some weird e-mails. Not spam. "Max" is not that unusual a name but with my surname I can't imagine I share the same name with many people.
The other day I got one from some physical therapist in Missouri. It was a pdf file of various stretches and rehab exercise, wiht instructions to do these once a day. I have never been in physical therapy and I have never been to Missouri.
Prior to this I received an e-mail addressed to a large group. It said something like, "I want to thank you for all of your prayers and encouragement. I got the new job at the Twin Cities Foundation for the Arts."
I have never been to Minnesota, and I didn't recognize the name of the sender, so I sent her a reply: "Congratulations on the new job, but are you sure you meant to send this to me?"
The response came back promptly. "Of course I meant to send to you. I couldn't have done it without help from YOU!!"
Well, no need for me to belabor the point. I am always glad to help out.
Is it just me or does anyone else think that if you have to wash your washing machine, something's not right? Maybe it's a conspiracy created by the Tide people. Or maybe people are just trying to be too fancy.
Either way, I'm sticking with the old fashioned top loader washing machine...
Cute Girl at Work: I like your tie. Is it new?
Me: Yes, I just bought it this week end.
CGAW: You have several spots on it from that orange you were just peeling. I hope they will come out.
Hey. It's Friday. Let me tell you something - it's been one long damn week. Look, I know I have it pretty darn good as far as work goes. However, everyone has "one of those weeks," right? It was my turn this week. Yeah, I know many of you are saying, "Juice, quit your bitchin'!" Fine. Whatever. I just wanted to forewarn you that my PoY may take on a different tone. Hell, who else can I take my aggression out on? Well, why not the people us Peevers peeve about? Shit, their silliness lands them on this site, doesn't it? Hey, think of it as an honor. You get mentioned in my special weekly rant...
Dear people who I am going to peeve about this week,
Pretty sure it goes with out saying that this weeks PoY will be dedicated to those stupid, idiot, moronic, brainless, dim-witted, clueless soles who make me laugh my shit off every week! Cheers to you!
MsChick74, may I suggest this, the next time you encounter the fool who thinks it's okay to disrupt your afternoon soaps, divorce court, Jerry Springer, or even Nancy Grace screaming her tata's off. Douche.
You know what, blaugra? The same thing happened to me. Two words: Cell. Phone. (Or is that one? Whatever.) This bizzatch was on her effing cell phone. Apparently, multi-tasking isn't one of her strong points. The joke was on her, though. I was in the middle of "trading out the old for the new" during my arts and crafts week at panty camp. Oops!
Really, it's quite simple Amy! See... Two things will be solved: #1. She'll never forget your name #2. Chances are, you may not see her at another party. Ever. Okay, maybe not. But, it would be funny as hell. Seriously.
Well, who else is feeling better? I sure am! Ready for the weeeeekend! Out.
Just in the past week I have traded in my caffeine delivery system: coffee for Diet Coke.
Diet Coke Pros:
Diet Coke Cons:
Coffee, I may be back, but for now I'm yours, Diet Coke.
p.s. Why is this a Peeve? Because I didn't want to write about the Boston Marathon bombings.
...I would take care of the big old trees on my property.
But I don't have an extra $5,000 in my pocket, and even if I did, I'd probably go on a fab vacation instead, so either way the big old trees are going to look like complete crap and will probably fall down in the next big wind storm.
Homeowner of the year!
In spring cleaning my yard, I found several little empty drug bags that had probably swirled around my shrubs during winter winds.
I don't think deals were going down in front of my house. I hope not.
Some of the bags had cool batman logos on them. Not being a druggie, I don't know if that means anything or not.
Anyway, these were really annoying to pick up, and I kept imagining the drug dealer walking my street, preying on teens in the neighborhood and then these youth getting high in my back yard. Because I'm so dramatic I am also imagining one of my neighbors cooking up meth and causing a house explosion. Panic ensues.
I was going through some old compact discs the other day, most of which I had not listened to for fifteen years or more.
One of these was billed as For My Pleasure, by Roxy Music. It fell quite short of the mark. Almost unbearable.
Happy Friday, y'all! My Friday was actually yesterday, however, I still had some "work" to get done today. Apparently, I had a small lapse memory and scheduled my (as the male nurse said) "full works" lady exam for my day off. I was all pumped to enjoy a night of swiggin' and sluggin' some booze, but I had to fast starting at 10pm. That really puts a damper on a girls night, you know? Some of my friends think I'm nuts that I still go to my (male) family practitioner for my yearly. The way I see it, until I'm thinking about popping out a tiny human, he'll do just fine (he could have warmer hands, though). I've gotten to know my doctor pretty well through out the past five years, so it's rather humorous that while he's performing "the works," were shooting the shit about March Maddness. Hell, if you're going to have somones hand all up your biznatch, you may as well get to know them. Stranger Danger, no more! Well, I'm sure you're all wondering if I came out with a clean bill-o-health, right? I'm A-O-K! Blood pressure...awesome. Cholesterol...sweet. Weight...bingo. The rest, well, I should know in about 5-7 business days. I foresee the phone call to be very dull and uneventful. Exactly how all of us girls want it, right?
Seeing how I just forced you to read all about my "full works" visit to the doctor, I thought it only be appropriate to dedicate this POY to Health/Beauty. Ready or not....here we go!
I have an idea, Kate the Peon. If he is swimming full laps in the pool, you should really take this time to perfect one of your own swimming techniques. Simply jump out of the pool each time he touches one side and CAAAAAANNNNNNOOONNNNBALLLLLLL!!!!! It helps if you scream "cannonball!"
What people don't realize, Rachel, we know who did it because they probably wear that same shitty scent from dawn till dusk. Additionally, using faux vanilla to cover up rotting sewage ass simply doesn't work. All it does is make us think about what the shit this person shoved up there, resulting in its nasty death. You can't ask me to take a person seriously, when all i'm thinking is, "bitch be nasty, yo." Clean that hole up before you come to work! Srrrrsly...
Here's what you do, Jen14221... Show that shiz loud and proud. If anyone dares to say anything simply reply, "Yeah, you like that? I bet you do. That right there is my hickey from last night, I got major boooooty." Then, turn around and walk away. Jealousy will fill the room, not to mention, shut them up. Loud and proud Jen14221, loud and damn proud. (Even if it is a tiny white lie).
Imagine if you will, MamaKaren... Being almost 32 and hearing, "you should really consider a mammal-gram (teehee) and colonoscopy, now that you're 32." What the shit? I think my nurse this morning drank a damn crazy pill with her coffee turning into a crazybird. Bitch, I've got eight more years! Yep, that happened. Nope, I will not be scheduling those appointments anytime soon. I really am sorry about your experience, though.
Hey, stay healthy and happy this weekend everyone! Peace out.
Do they say to a classmate, "Here's my phone, take a photo when I get to full handstand, then I will make it my Facebook profile pic to show everyone how flexible/strong/spiritual I am?" And the classmate is stuck standing there taking a photo of this poser instead of practicing him/herself.
I live in the mid-Atlantic area of the US. This area is generally known to have four distinct seasons. I can't see the crocuses (croci?) that bloomed last week (with the beginning of Spring) because they are buried in snow. March isn't going out like a lamb this year.
Also, I would like to give credit to my cousin for the post title. He posted it as his Facebook update and I found it funny enough to steal borrow.
Someone left a voicemail at my office today asking me to fax them a document regarding an invoice I'd sent out.
A) Who still has a fax?
B) In the time it took me to print out the document & fax it to them, I could have sent it via email three times.C) In the time it took them to find my phone number, dial, and leave a message, they could have sent me an email requesting said document three times over since my email address (and not my direct line) is all over the invoice!
There was an old SCTV skit where Doctor John poisoned Johnny LaRue's [John Candy] ribs, and then subsequently was run over by a rib truck. As he was dying Doctor John tried to explain the irony to Johnny LaRue, who could never get it.
Hipsters like very much to use the word ironic. For instance, they may wear an "ironic" big mesh baseball cap or moustache. But, dorks doing dorky things is banal, not ironic.
I wish that St. Patrick's Day was as big of a deal in the British Isles as it is in Canada and the US (weird, right?). This is one holiday where American-style commercialisation is actually awesome.
Can someone mail me a Shamrock Shake (do they still do those)?
Happy Friday, everyone! I don't have a lot of time today so.... Let's just get down to brass tacks, eh?
With the festivities of St. Paddy's Day upon us, I have decided to dedicate this Peeves of Yore edition to songs, movies, tv shows, and movies. With an unlimited supply of mindless entertainment, it's quite easy to to come up with fightin' words. Much like the things people will see, hear, and do this weekend - mindless entertainment! Let the show begin...
Blaugra would rather be knee deep in a Monte Cristo from Bennigans and risk immediate diarrhea during happy hour, than watch Hoda and Kathie Lee. Blaugra, might I suggest a frosted beer mug and a box of wine the next time you tune in to those broads? Apparently, that's how they can stand eachother!
For Kate the Peon, commercials using mouth watering adjectives for shave gel, American Idol-like audition rejects for foot longs, and anything having to do with Drop Dead Fred Diva are complete and utter shit. However, she draws the line at anything wand-like vibrating near her eye lashes. That, my dear, is for south of the border on a rainy cold and lonely night.
Dear Readers, Slap some Jergens on that shit and call it a day. Seriously. What the fuck? Sincerely, Joanne
Let's just get down to brass tacks. Give me the quick and dirty. In and out, one and done, up and out. Seriously, just give it so me straight. At the end of the day. Look, the bottom line is. These phrases all represent how MamaKaren would like to see erectile dysfunction commercials erected (hehe). This bath tub, rain forest with benches, romantic gazing with rainbows and unicorns just isn't getting anyones shit up.
My mind is now the same consistency as cream of wheat, especially knowing that freedom from the office is just moments away. Happy weekend, and enjoy your St. Paddy's Day!
Said the 30 year old tattooed girl wearing Chuck Taylors, skinny jeans, and a Hello Kitty t-shirt to her 40 year old co-worker wearing a suit:
Is "hipster" just a generic term like "whippersnapper" that you old people use to describe young people?
I've just discovered, quite by accident, that as a US citizen (by birth), I'm required to file annual tax returns even if I have never earned any money in the US or from a US company. And they might actually attempt to collect some taxes on said earnings.
Oh hell naw! Good thing the US government doesn't know my married name and therefore where in the world I am. Come and get me, bitches!
I was eating lunch the other day at a place with ESPN and CNN on their televisions. Here are a few of the gems that count as news:
I want the McNuggets of my childhood back. You know, the ones with taste.
Yours in disappointment,
Q: I want to run an ad campaign on radio. My ad agency came up with an ad about how Silence is Golden, featuring long gaps of silence which radio listeners will find "refreshing". Are they creative geniuses who deserve a big bonus?
A: Why in the hell would someone who has intentionally turned on their radio want to hear long periods of silence? Fire your ad agency; they're morons.
What's going on, my friends? It's the freakin' weekend (JGL, you're so cute I just wanna squeeze you). So I don't know about you, but wherever I turn these days I hear all about is this Harlem Shake bs. Seriously, somewhere right now, a mid-size ad agency is holding a Harlem Shake video planning meeting. They're cracking open Diet Cokes and making production schedules. They'd like to have the video done by June. Get to work, people! Just kidding, I'm quietly wishing I could have a cracked open DC planning a monstrosity, such as the Harlem Shake. Yikes, glad I wasn't on that flying tube of metal.
People, if you're looking for quality entertainment you must understand that you can only get that from one thing. Animals, duh! I found this gem a few weeks back, and while it's all over the place now, nothing is like the original. Srrrrrsly.... I think I may have just piddled a little.
So, I'm in a pretty good mood today. I've been working on the house the past week or so. A little painting, decorating, and organizing. Basically, I'm attempting to wash the palette clean, and start all over. Seeing how I was not around during the original color scheme planning for this home, and there were a couple of disasters, it was time to "mark my territory." My lovely SO has given me pretty much all creative control, and since I love control, this is the perfect project to keep me busy. However, I think that may be part of his plan; keepin' the 'ole ball and chain busy and whistlin' while she works. I still need to "accessorize," but here's one of our bathrooms! Yes, its just a bathroom, but a damn good looking bathroom.
Moving along... Seeing how I'm reinventing our home, I've decided to focus on the home. Here's to Casa/Familia/Animales.
Personally, I think you can turn karma right around, Peeved Michelle. Quarantine the kid in the broken garage. The door's broken, so she can't get anywhere. As soon as your husband gets home, tell him the kid is in desperate need of some love. He heads to the garage, sees his bumpkin sitting quietly in the middle of the garage, and all he wants to do is hug and snuggle with her. Now, they both have MOTHERFUCKING LICE together. Daddy/daughter date! This may not be the most family-friendly solution, or the proper way to "fix" karma, but it's certainly an option.
Some simple solutions for you blaugra (they are numbered accordingly):
1. If it's yours, I've seen these commercials... If it's someone else's mouth, just use a classic approach. Such as, shoving some soap in their mouth. You may be thinking, "that's assault brotha!" Well, it'll will solve your problem, I promise.
2. Wax On, Wax off, my friend. Danielson did it (kind of), ladies do it (or they should), Madame Tussauds uses it all the time, Steve Carell thinks of Kelly Clarkson when he does it. Look, you don't want to end up looking like a Robin Williams wannabe. Otherwise, the razor never fails. If you start to grow toe pubes, nobody will even notice.
3. Two words: Bug Zapper. Hang those bad boys up all over your house. Not only will it kill those pesky little assholes, it's entertainment for the whole family!
4. Maybe we need to follow this lead, and have a demonstrator available in all bathrooms? Look peeps, we're in America. Land of the free (to pee anywhere), and home of the brave wave your filthy pee hand anytime you want.
What we are not is a civilized society such as, Abu Dhabi. However, I would venture to guess if you don't follow Abu Dhabi rules, you end up in the clink for a really long time.
5. The only solution to this one is to simply ban that word. I throw up in my mouth when I see/hear that word. Along with moist. I hate that word too. Moist mucus....ugh. I think i'm going to go puke it up in the bathroom and not wash my hands when I'm done. Just for the hell of it.
This is definitely troubling news about your neighborhood, Meribon. However, I couldn't get over the word "NABS" staring me in the face. It was hard to concentrate. I kept thinking..."nabes rhymes with rabes." I like to refer to rabies as, "the rabes." Then I started to think about all the critters that may have bitten all those naughty gun-toting people. I bet they have the rabes. Not only do you need to think about a "pivot, turn, and duck" maneuver while walking around, but you need to think about gun-toting people with the rabes. But, damn it... I sure do miss that city.
I'm with you, Erin. If I opened up the shower door and saw a cockroach limp and belly up, I would run away screaming too. I still laugh when I hear the name Lorena Bobbit, however.
So, I've probably taken up enough of your precious time today. We focused a lot on the bathroom today, didn't we? But seriously, no matter who you are or where you live, never ever ever run away before flushing the toilet. If you don't know how to flush, just ask. If it's because you just shat the biggest shat you've ever shat and are embarrassed because the toilet will no longer flush, leave a note for the poor soul who's about to walk into a world of shat. If you all of a sudden notice a cockroach on the floor while you're doing your bizznass, don't step on it. It will make one helluva mess, and they also may be able to find its family, so they may continue to live a long and hanging fruit(full) life. Lastly, wash your damn hands, yo. Your friends health and hygiene are in the palm of your hands, and having nasty palms is gross and not very friendly.
My husband used to travel a lot for work. Anything that was going to go wrong with our house happened when he was out of town. Then it stopped happening. Maybe my good karma reserve filled back up? I prayed in the right way to the magical fake god in the sky? Who knows.
And then it started happening again. Today. The garage door opener broke in a spectacular fashion. The chain came completely off and sent a gear flying through the air. Honestly, though, it barely registered as a nuisance (mostly because I haven't had to open the door again since it happened).
No, the worst part was the call I just got from the nurse at my daughter's school. MOTHERFUCKING LICE. AGAIN. So, she can't go to to afterschool care, and I can't go to the first half of a six-hour event that I have already paid for because my aun can't come until after work and my husband is out of town on business.
And now my head itches.
When I said you could pick what we watch on TV I didn't intend that we should watch the "red carpet before the Oscars".
Twenty excruciating minutes of some lady called Kristen who looks like Jeri Blank from Strangers With Candy yapping with celebrities I don't care about about movies I will never watch.
I know, I know, it's only once a year and it's something that girls like. That is why I am now surfing the internet instead of watching the TV.