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Archive for the ‘Respect’ Category

To my rude neighbors (and any other parking impaired dirtbags),

The lines are painted perpendicular to the curb for a reason… It’s to guide your sorry, oxygen burning, completely distracted, lazy excuse for a human being into the parking spot. Why must you park diagonally in a straight pull in spot? Are you that self-important that you can’t take the extra .7 seconds and additional steering effort to put your car STRAIGHT IN to the parking spot?

Do you think that because you managed to somehow dupe the driving examiner into giving you a driver’s license, you are entitled to park anywhere/anyway you want?

And for the guy (or girl) that can’t park in the middle of the space… What in God’s name is wrong with you? How utterly impossible is it to split the difference between the lines? Yeah, I know how important it is for you to get to where you are going and how world peace will somehow be affected if you take a couple extra seconds and put forth the 0.0002% extra effort it would take. I do realize that it’s all about you, but come on, show the rest of us that you have at least an inkling of respect for others.

I think I’ll trade my 2003 Ford truck for a 58 Willy’s, you know the kind with the really sturdy doors… and the next time your sorry existence encroaches on the empty spot… Whack! I’ll make sure you get that lovely door ding that you are so begging for!

Sincerely,

DingBringer

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Does tardiness somehow lessen IQ?

How is it that people, ostensibly SMART people, can apparently be completely and utterly incapable of calculating their transit time in order to arrive somewhere AT THE APPOINTED TIME?

I mean honestly, if an iPod-listening, frowning and non-watch wearing teenager can get himself, his hair and his too-baggy pants into a community meeting on time, how is it that a double-Masters PhD like you can’t even get to a client meeting on time, when that client comes from a culture where PUNCTUALITY IS A MUST?

Or why can’t you, the software uber-geek, used to working insane hours to meet an arbitrary project deadline which even you deride, can’t get his sorry ass across town to meet the supposedly most important person in your life ON TIME?

Let me be clear:

1) Making others wait because you can’t get yourself organized to arrive on time IS NOT OK. It shows a complete lack of respect for their time.

2) If you can get an MS or PhD, you can get the concept of transit time. Until we have beam-me-up-Scotty technology, you DO need to take this into account when planning your movements. DO IT. Constantly arriving late doesn’t make you look busy and important, it makes you look stupid.

3) Calling 5 minutes before you’re meant to be somewhere just to say you’re going to be 40 minutes late IS NOT OK. Have you ever considered that maybe the person you’re meeting has just juggled their entire schedule and workload and risked several collisions to make absolutely, positively sure they WOULD be there on time? You didn’t suddenly realize you weren’t going to make it five minutes ago, idiot, you knew that at least 35 minutes ago. Why didn’t you call then, you dumbass? See 2) above.

3) Repeating 3) over and over doesn’t make it any less annoying or inconsiderate, it makes it MORE so.

Tardiness is for morons, my friends. Don’t make think of you as one.

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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.

Mark

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Dr. J.A.M. DDS

How many times will I have to endure the patient whining: “I hate the dentist! Oh, but not YOU! It’s not personal.” How about this: Then don’t say it. Think before you talk for once in your pathetic, soft, privileged life.

Yes, I know shots hurt. Yes, I know Dentistry is expensive. Funny that… floss is actually inexpensive and if you used it once a day you would not be in this sad, neglected, painful state. YES, I KNOW YOU HAVE UGLY TEETH. But come now. Isn’t vanity one of the seven sins? You don’t really NEED bleaching or veneers or braces. Most people wouldn”t mutilate themselves to be “beautiful” and frankly if you want to be “beautiful” maybe you should start with some larger parts of your body.

And how smart is it to say “I don’t like dentists” when I am about to work on you? Have you considered that I may now dislike you because you are a self-centered, thoughtless @#*? An instrument may slip or I may not be so gentle with that molar you never brushed or flossed…

Dentistry is all about neglect, vanity and trauma, which are all the patient’s responsibility. I only care about doing a good job, so don’t make me forget to do it by saying stupid things.

Rantasaurus Says: Okay, so… who’s officially terrified of going to the dentist now?

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Interesting. Now Jess is here to have it out with a woman who commented on her previous rant: An Open Missive to Mia the Omnivore.

To the Self Righteous Tw@t, Chrissy:

I invite you to come and meet my dog. Really. Actually take her for a week… no a day… and then come talk to me. You’ll be singing a different tune, I assure you. She’s a crated dog. She manages to do these things when I’m, say, washing the dishes or tossing in a load of laundry. I assure you she doesn’t troll around the apartment unwatched. On no no – quite to the contrary she is watched like a hawk. In fact, she keeps her harness and leash on in the house so when she makes a break for it behind the couch with something in her mouth I can simply stomp down on her dangling leash and stop her in her tracks.

No, it isn’t a lack of vigilance that allows my dog to do what she does so horrendously well. It would be the total lack of effort from her last 3 owners and her veterinary-diagnosed ADHD. Yeah, that is correct, my dog needs to take Ritalin in canine form. So before you preach you seemingly holier than thou morals allow me to kick that soap box right out from under your “perfect” little feet. I am not an irresponsible pet owner, you wicked little bi$ch.

In fact, I am far from it. I hold more responsibility, kindness, and compassion in my big toe than you could possibly wish to know in your life. Not only did we RESCUE Mia from being put to sleep, we took her to obedience classes (which she was promptly expelled from for an unruly and untamable personality). We take her for all her vaccinations and check ups on time, keep her groomed and nails clipped, feed her the special diet that the vet prescribed for her, pay hundreds upon hundreds of dollars to keep up on all the medicine she requires for her allergies, arthritis, ADHD, frequent urinary tract infections, and acid reflux.

So, tell me… how in the WORLD is that irresponsible? The fact that I don’t saddle my dog up and ride her around the house to make sure she doesn’t eat some random thing on a table some where does not classify me as irresponsible. It classifies me as sane. Take your self-righteous theories and shove them up your snooty little ass.

Kisses,
Jess a.k.a. Mia’s Mommy

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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.

Love,
Me

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Stephanie, not an Oprah fan, I’d take it

Was it really necessary to cry for three days when I shaved my head at age 17? Did you have to be all dramatic when every I expressed a teeny, tiny individual impulse? Well, screw that I guess. I learned how to hide my freak flag. It is a skill that serves me well.

And to this day, you still don’t understand me. You don’t know my hopes and dreams. Heck, you don’t even know my goddamn JOB! You truly suck because of this. And I know I should be all, ‘you did the best you could’ and all ‘Oprah vagina forgiveness’ about it. But, no. I still think it sucks when you can’t get your self past the tattoos to see the glory of me. Dumbass.

But lets try a tiny step here. I am NOT a physicians assistant. I am a PSYCHIATRIC NURSE PRACTITIONER.

Big difference between the two. Just like us.

I still love you though. Your grand-kids love you more. See you next week.

Rantasaurus Says: Steph, I get you. I get you. When Mr. Perfect Dumb Billasaurus was off stomping skulls and making Mamasaurus proud, I was reading in the corner, learning Milton, Thoreau. Who do you think got the Caveasaurus when Mama passed away?

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