shot of sass, served on (n)ice

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Suck It.

* Stewart Parnell, aka owner of Peanut Corporation of America, aka the bastard (at least partially) responsible for The Salmonella I endured for approximately 10 days, The Salmonella which gave me stomach pains so sharp and intense that I almost went to the f-ing hospital, asshole, and which cost me $50 to have a doctor tell me to stick to the BRAT diet: Bananas, Rice, Applesauce, and Toast. Um. No thank you. I think he should have to eat his own salmonella infested peanut products for an entire year, think about how important money is over people's health. There. Are. No. Words. For jackasses like him.

* Inventors of voicemail, which apparently includes cheeseball Scott A. Jones, pictured below, who should have to check my voicemail for me every single day and type it out for me. I loathe voicemail. I am convinced that it was created to make secretaries' lives easier, and although I don't begrudge making secretaries' lives easier (I used to be one, as did my mother), just please write it the hell down. With paper messages I can take a quick glance and determine who needs to be called and the priority of calls. With voicemail, I've got to take 5-30 minutes, waiting on stupid electronic lady intermittently, write all that shit down myself, and then finally prioritize before I finally get to returning calls. I am busy people. I don't need this time suck when there is celebrity gossip to read and Facebooking to tend to. Text messaging is so much more efficient. That's what we need in offices! I'm convinced, the only good to come from voicemail is the drunk dial from friends. Priceless.

* Cats. Maybe not all cats, but especially the cats that have taken up residence underneath my freaking house. I don't have cats, mostly because I'm allergic, but also because I hate the smell of cat pee. Well, turns out when stray cats* live under your house, you get all the benefits of cat pee without the trouble of furry friends. Not. Awesome. I should unleash Masala on their asses.

* The news media. Seriously. I cannot read the news or watch it extensively. I do not understand people that keep CNN, MSNBC, Fox or some other 24/7 news network on all the time because that shit stresses. me. out. The print and television news media take whatever crappy issue is going on and rub your nose in it for weeks and months on end until I'm just like, "MERCY! Stop it already!" Generally I skim headlines and first paragraphs, then move on to celebrity gossip which doesn't leave me feeling hopeless and helpless and wanting to slit my wrists at the catastrophe of it all. These peeps should have to pay for my ever-increasing expensive dark chocolate addiction which has developed to ease the pain of our economic crisis, global warming, and Iran, of which I'm reminded every 1.7 nanoseconds. Also, for every 15 minutes of depressing crap on the news, we need a Jason Mraz, "I'm Yours" break to cheer everyone up.

I could go on, but really, you all have lives to lead and I need to go watch that video again while I drink more wine and eat ice cream.

*I have a theory from whence these pests came. My behind-the-alley neighbor was an elderly reclusive lady. I think she either died or moved to a nursing home because for the last few weekends people have been moving stuff out from her house. These cats probably were her cats (they are actually very pretty kitties) and those mofos just let them loose to terrorize me and my dog. Wonder how they would enjoy cat pee smell in their house?

7 tips left at the bar:

Megan said...

For your sake I really hope that you don't have in tact male and female cats living under your house. Because holy shit, cat sex is loud. And disturbing.

(Did I just say 'cat sex'?)

niki said...

O.M.G. no. no no no no please no. I can't handle loud cat sex. Ugh.

Cakelet said...

You did just say 'cat sex.' And now I'm going to bed, and the last thought in my head before I go to sleep is going to be 'cat sex.'
Thanks for that.

tempe said...

HA! Cat sex. That's freaking hilarious. I was about to write something all sad and drippy about controlling the pet population and those poor cats, but 'cat sex' just made me snarf my coffee.

Nik, I totally agree with you about voicemail. I. Hate. It. Especially those people that ramble on and on and on and then leave their number. Voicemails should be quick:

"Hello, Jim Smith, number is 202-555-0000. Calling about cat sex. Call me back when you can. Bye."

Miss Thystle said...

I'm going to work "cat sex" into at least one converstation today.

Because that phrase is AWESOME.

Miss Thystle said...

Did it, blogged it.

penelope said...

Um, did anyone see The Office last night? There was actually cat sex! All kinds of disturbing, it was.

Fabulous post.