Archive for the ‘Gross’ Category

To the barista at my favorite caffeine refilling station:

Had you not been consuming so much of your own creations or snacking on Vita-Slim you snarf in desperation to shed the excess weight from the two gallons of double fudge ripple ice cream you inhaled while watching infomercials about losing excess tonnage last night, maybe the tremor in your hand would not have been so pronounced. I first took notice that the cup you were offering exhibited eddies from a Richter 4.5 happening in San Francisco when you placed the cup on the counter and a single sip slithered over the rim to spolsh upon the counter. That would have been fine for you to offer me the cup with an apology for the mess.

What you did next was an injustice to my taste buds let alone my immune system. Taking the rancid rag that had no doubt been used to swab up the last twenty of your mishandled creations you used it to lick up the misguided mouthful from the counter. Then you added the final and unforgivable injury to the proffered beverage. You used this bacteria and disease ridden towelette, this cloth that a sewer rat from New York would shun as too defiled to touch, to polish off the rest of your error from the side and place where my lips would have eventually come to rest on its porcelain surface. Then to my abject horror you offered the tainted device to me with an innocent smile.

When I objected and asked that sanitize my container an prepare another unsullied beverage, you had the audacity to wonder in your single celled brain why I would not accept the monstrosity. I did not ask for your hands to be amputated for the insult, as was my right. I asked for a beverage in my preferred customer’s platinum member cup to be presented with the honor it deserved.

Now give me a fresh coffee before I drain your blood by sticking this stir stick in your neck.



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Dear Rat that is in my House,

You and I both know that while you have been in my house, I have not liked you. I don’t think you like me much either. Even though you accidentally stumbled upon this plethora of food that is my kitchen, I still blame you for my lack of sleep this week.

And now, my parents are out of town and if you were to die, I would have to deal with you.

But I don’t want you to be alive in my house anymore. If you could just leave, that would be excellent. For you see, you would still get to be alive, and I would not be afraid to go to sleep anymore.

I hope you know I can currently see you as you scurry across the floor. So can my hunting dog, whom is sleeping on my bed tonight. Also, if you could stop nibbling holes in my cereal boxes, that would be great. It makes it hard to pour in the morning with 2 spouts.

Please decide soon. I have to get up at 6 tomorrow morning, and I’m tired.


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Dear Honey,

I know you want to treat me special, and apparently this means that we have to go out this suggestion”on the town” and have dinner in a restaurant every once in a while. I truly believe that sucks. And you don’t seem to understand that.

Why? There are so many good reasons:

I was a waitress for years and years and years. If I never step foot in another restaurant again, I would be fine. I know what the kitchens of those places look like. I know that most restaurants hire 15 year old kids or retards to wash their dishes (which is just gross). I know that the wait staff doesn’t give a fuck about either of us and would be happy if we died at the table (after paying the bill, or at least dropping our wallets from our cold dead hands). Do I want to be subjected to that? NO.

Further, if I ever do say, “ok honey, fine, let’s go out to eat,” then that’s only the beginning of a world of misery. Where do I want to go? Truly, I want to stay at home… so YOU pick the damn restaurant. And no, I don’t want to spend a crap-ton of money on steak and potatoes. You know I prefer salads.

Every time we have this discussion we end up pissed off at each other, and it has ruined more than one nice night on the town. Remember sitting in Hardee’s after a hard night of indecision? No? Let me remind you. I was crying and you were ranting on and on about how the fast-food workers should get off the phone and take your order. The food was horrible, and the company worse. That was a night that will live on in my memory forever. Is this a nice night on the town for me? Or for you? Don’t you have any male friends you can eat steak and drink beer with? Why do I have to be involved at all?

Really, if you want to do something nice for me, don’t drag me to a god-forsaken restaurant. Go grocery shopping, cook a nice meal, and then wash the dishes afterwards. You really are a good cook, even if you have to use every dish in the kitchen to make spaghetti.


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Mark B., dreading your fourth meal

My worst restaurant experience is everyday. I work at Taco Bell. I hate people, because it seems that nowadays, no one has any common sense. I mean come on, how hard is it to pronounce guacamole? Or to read the giant glowing neon menu in front of you instead of asking me how much a taco is?

READ!!! And they will buy whatever is promoted. I could put up a poster with a picture of toenail clippings topped with a layer of our cool ripe tomatoes and sour cream, for just 99 cents, and people will buy it. One day, when the taco bell dog was popular, we were selling plush toys of the dog and a lady asked me if the chihuahuas were any good.

I told her not in this country. Idiots.

My store is located next to an Arby’s, so naturally people come through the drive thru and order Arby’s melts. You would THINK that the giant bell in front of their faces would draw attention to the fact that they are at the wrong place!! They must be so overwhelmed by their hunger lust that they forget how to read.

Rantasaurus Says: You know, you laugh, but I swear by it. Toenail clippings first thing in the morning does wonders for my constitution. Lots of fiber, if you know what I mean.

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Amy, spider warrior

IRXVII: a spider demon tried to kill me last night
IRXVII: first, i was at my desk on the computer
IRXVII: all depressed
IRXVII: and the bastard tried to latch onto my arm
IRXVII: to suck the life out of me
IRXVII: good thing my chair has wheels, i was able to throw myself away from the desk in time
IRXVII: so it scurried away to the abyss
IRXVII: then, im on my bed on the phone..
IRXVII: maybe half an hour tops after the desk incident
IRXVII: and there it was
IRXVII: stalking me from above
IRXVII: so i do what any normal person would
IRXVII: when they are being stalked by a dark specimen
IRXVII : i grab a tuna can
IRXVII: (or three, in a box)
IRXVII : and slam it onto the wall, where it was resting
IRXVII: but aha, the douche is quicker than i thought
IRXVII: and teleported from the wall to the ceiling in a split second
IRXVII : i miss, and drop the can SCREAMING
IRXVII: the person on the phone is amused..
IRXVII: spider falls to its doom (my floor)
IRXVII: or more like LEAPED
IRXVII: because it crawled up my wall
IRXVII: again
IRXVII: so i see it crawl up my wall, and i promptly put the phone down, and look for the tuna
IRXVII: couldnt find the tuna, so i grab the next best thing: air freshener
IRXVII : i figure, something so evil can’t resist the mighty powers of cleanliness
IRXVII: in a can
IRXVII: so there i am…balancing on one foot on the corner of my bed (i pulled the bed about 3 ft from the wall)
IRXVII: spraying the devil with the air freshener
IRXVII : and it STILL was moving
IRXVII: so i continue spraying a while….
IRXVII: then find the can o tuna box
IRXVII: and smoosh the fuck out of it
IRXVII: three times i slam the can on the wall
IRXVII : then i held it against the wall and rubbed it in for good luck
IRXVII: i proceed to throw the can out of my window, yelling “SPAWN OF SATAN!!”
IRXVII: then finish my conversation
IRXVII: /end rant
Monica: XD
Monica: did that really happen?
IRXVII: yes.
IRXVII: there is a stain on my wall from the air freshener streaming down it
Monica: XD

Rantasaurus Says: One time I threw something at a spider and it went through my wall, through my neighbor’s cat (sorry Mittens) and through my neighbor’s bathroom…. and the things I saw in there… well… let’s say I use bug spray now.

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Joe B., with the keen food instincts 

It was a warm August day and my 5 year old son and I were coming back from a walk and visit to the park and decided to stop in at one of our local Chinese restaurants to get a lunch special. There were only two other patrons in the restaurant. An older women and an older man, each of whom sat at different tables. The older man seemed to be having a tough time eating as he coughed and hacked continuously while he ate.

Before we finished our meal the older hacking man got up and left. The waitress went over and grabbed his plate and then walked over to our table and, with the fork she had picked up along with the older man’s plate, scraped the departed customer’s food on to my plate and said ” He no eat. You eat.” and walked away.

My son and I looked at the food the waitress had just unloaded on to my plate without my requesting she do so. We didn’t speak as we didn’t know what to say. The other old lady patron was watching all this but expressionless and she never stopped chewing and swallowing.

Within a minute or two I suggested to my son we leave. My appetite had suddenly dissipated.

The waitress grabbed our plates and put our left-overs into a to-go container, again without my asking her to do this. We paid our bill and left with the to-go container.

Soon we made it to the corner of the block in which we had to turn and go down the street to our home. Just as we did this a friendly stray dog ran up to greet us.

On impulse I opened our to-go container and dumped the contents out on the sidewalk thinking this hungry looking dog would love a treat of human food. This was a combination of our uneaten food and the hacking man’s left overs.

This stray dog seemed very excited at first but during it’s cursury sniffing and checking out of this generous but gooey mess, it kept stopping and lifting it’s head as if it was thinking” something ain’t right here.”

After 2 or 3 attempts to reassure itself that we weren’t trying to poison him…this now suspicious hound obviously decided that it wasn’t worth the risk and gave us both a look of ” you think I’m that dumb?” and just scampered off.

Again my son and I glanced at each other. Again we didn’t know what to say. We continued on home silently contemplating what we just witnessed. In the 18 years since this experiencing this curious event, we still occasionally bring it up. No laughing…just incredulous wonder.

Rantasaurus Says: You disrespectful ignoramus. In many cultures, especially the cultures that value their ancestors, old man snot is a delicacy. I would’ve eaten it all up and asked for more.

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Dear America,

I want to live in a country where women and men wear robes that cover all that bulging flesh. Here is a list of things that are not attractive to see when you’re walking down the street, sitting in a restaurant, shopping in the grocery store, etc.

  1. Butt crack. No one is so attractive that they need to show this. Just say no to crack!
  2. Muffin top. By no stretch of the imagination is your big fat roll of blubber bulging over your too tight pants sexy. It’s even less sexy when you have a short shirt on and we all get a view of your stretch marks.
  3. Overly short skirts. If we can see your panties or lack there of when you make the slightest forward lean, you need to stop wearing that tube top as a skirt. Seriously, I don’t care if you shave down there or not.
  4. Tank tops. This one is for those men who are thickly furred everywhere and insist on sharing their sheddings with diners at the local McDonalds. I’ll take rat hair over sweaty armpit hair anyday.


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