Rejecting My Host, Part II

Dear Stomach,

How could it possibly be that you are still hungry after an entire meal of Korean BBQ. I fed you a veritable meatopia of meats from a veritable meatopia of livestock. I didn’t even try to insult you with the emptiness of calories that is rice. Sure, I threw in a token mushroom, but how could I resist the tiny, yet powerful and mothering Korean lady who was so nice as to cook our entire meal whilst simultaneously catering to all the other patrons of the restaurant? Well, I obviously couldn’t.

This orgy of meat was precisely 1 hour and 37 minutes ago; I know this because it was 12 minutes before 5 o’clock, which was the time they officially started serving dinner. So please tell me, how could you have possibly digested two mountainous platters of cow and pig in such a short time? HOW? I cannot win.

Don’t growl at me, SIR. I do not appreciate your tone.

Failingly yours,
The Mouth

Link Your Damn Links!

Luddites of the interwebs, it is 2012. The dub-dub-dub has been around for like 2 decades. It’s time for you to fucking cop on. please for the love of all that is good on this earth, please do us the courtesy of linking the URLs on your web pages. I know that most smartypants phones out there do automatically do this for you in emails, but please don’t rely on this magic to carry through to your web browser. It doesn’t. and it infuriates us. It causes us to click maniacally in the general area of the URL until we realize you’re one of those people whose hand should have been slapped away and all Internet privileges revoked denied all computer access until you at least read Interwebs for Numbnuts or took a night course at your local adult education center.

Once you have mastered the art of creating one of these mystical “hyperlinks” do us the additional favor and please do not use “click here” or “follow this link” or my current favorite: “Website: website” with the second “website” being the link with no discernible difference in formatting from the first. We will understand that we should click your goddamned link because it will be obvious to us that it is a link. Because we are not morons.

also underlining shit that isn’t a link makes me want to reach through my computer and strangle you.

—–

update: I could just cry. Not only do these guys not link anything, they’ve actually gone through the effort to use CSS to create the bleakness that is their home page. I might just have to call and cancel my internet connection now.

I Told You So

So I’ve got a cold.

If you know me at all, them you know that I never get sick. So you might also guess that when I do get sick, I am super unhappy.

[oh god crying baby. I’m writing this on a plane.]

Where was I? Oh yeah, unhappy. If it were just a matter of “oops, I was on a 4 day meth binge,” or “gee, I work in a giant petri dish” (Keating, 2012), I might have a better attitude about it. But no, it’s not due to any fault of my own; it’s due to all the coughing asshats that plague me on the bus and out in the world. Thanks, asshats. Now I’m on my way to a nice romantic weekend getaway with Husband in Lisbon, and I’m trapped on a plane with a screaming fucking baby and a river of snot coming out of my head the likes of which makes the annual flooding of the Nile seem like a minor inconvenience.

[Someone please stuff a sock in that baby. Seriously, parent. I have some industrial strength knock-out pills in my bag. Row 13. Purple hair. You only need ask.]

Yeah, prior to this head plague, I’d been eating well and juicing (the kind with vegetables) and generally being very good to myself. In fact I’d actually managed to lay off the booze for a whole 2 or 3 days. Yeah, I know! So how does my body reward me? By sitting idly by and allowing a stupid little virus to set up housekeeping. ON VALENTINE’S DAY. Right before a 4 day weekend in one of the loveliest cities in Europe.

Feh.

Waste Bag Indeed

Dear Airlines,

I am writing to you today on the subject of waste management; or creation as it might be more appropriately named in this case. I would like to understand why, in this age of sustainability, conservation, and other eco-buzzwords, you think it’s a good idea to actually INCREASE the amount of waste that is generated during a flight. Is there some sort of sick joke of a competition going on between all the airlines to see how much of a pile of shit you can create? Does the winner get to have the name of their airline spelled out in GARBAGE so large that it can be easily read from an altitude of 30,000 feet?

The only other reason I can think of for creating such a huge amount of trash would be that you are collectively saving up to use all the… uh… proceeds to build more airports or pave runways in less developed parts of the world. This might be acceptable if you’re trying to build runways in places which are sorely lacking in natural plastic reserves and which you will then use to deliver medical supplies.

But honestly, how can you justify giving me not just one cup with my tea in it, but one additional plastic cup, one plastic pouch with a plastic knife/spoon (kfoon? spife?), a napkin, and a sugar packet inside, two of those small plastic milk thingies, AND a small plastic bag labeled “waste bag” inside another little plastic bag? Are you fucking kidding me?! Do you expect me to spend the rest of my flight MacGyvering a solution to interstellar flight with all these items? Why can’t you just ask if I want milk and sugar and just premix it for me before handing it to me? Is your time really that precious? Is that not worth just a minor portion of the €2.50 you are charging me for it?

Please help me understand your ways.

Sincerely,
Concerned Flyer in 13E

Rejecting My Host, Part I

Dear Spine,

It seems that we are at a bit of an impasse. You clearly hate me and I can’t say that I’m all that fond of your behavio(u)r as of late, either. I don’t understand how we came to this stage in our relationship. I’ve bought you gifts. I’ve gotten you countless massages. I’ve had highly trained professionals try to restore your youthful elegance. I’ve had beautiful photos taken of you from many flattering angles… Yet still, you are not happy. At best, you let me have two, maybe three days of peace and you’re back again with your ever-present pain signals indicating your displeasure. I do not think that this is a healthy relationship and I’m not sure that even couple’s therapy could help us now. You’ve forced me into this. I have no other choice. I must silence you with painkillers. Please, try to relax and let it happen. That’s it… just reeelaaaax…

Maybe someday we can reconnect under different circumstances. Until then, I wish I could say the pleasure has been all mine.

Regretfully yours,

S.

Canis frustratis

BARK BARK BARK

WOOF

wOOf

bark bark bark bark

yiP! yiP! yAp yAp yAp yip!

WooF WooF WOoOF

for the love of god SHUT THE FUCK UP

what in god’s name are you barking at? why? why all day? do your humans hate you? whatever you’re barking at really can’t be worth all that yapping and woofing.

it’s enough to make me wanna stick a vailum in a piece of steak and toss it over your fence.

GAH!

Cover your damn mouth!

i am SO SICK of people walking around town, sitting behind me on the bus, in front of me at the till, pushing their stupid babies around and COUGHING their bleedin’ heads off! all the damn time and all around me. ok, i’ll admit to being a touch germ phobic, but i’ve realized lately that my immune system is supercharged and as a consequence, i don’t often catch shit that’s going around. case in point, Husband has been down with the man flu at least twice in the past several months and despite smothering him with love and sharing close quarters with him, i’ve been spared the plague.

but back to my violent bitching…

ok, i do understand that it’s winter, in ireland and 90% of irish people seem to get “winter cough” which they consider to be completely normal and something that happens with the seasons (seasons? hmmm). i know this from working in a naturopathic clinic as part of my edumacation. i have also heard not one, but several people talking about having PLEURISY. what. the. ever-loving. fuck? is this the middle ages? are we living in damp, dank, drafty castles with no sanitation?! i suppose if you think “winter cough” is a completely normal thing and that going on antibiotics several times a year isn’t cause for alarm, i guess then you might not be too shocked to develop bizarre antiquated diseases that the rest of the civilized world no longer even thinks about.

i don’t know at what point in human history, people decided that it was ok to cough their heads off in public without making the slightest attempt to spare us from their lung plague. i mean COME ON people! from the sounds of things, what you have ISN’T GOOD and I DON’T WANT IT. from the sound of things, you probably don’t have long to live. by golly, why are you even OUTSIDE?! jaysus, go the fuck home and eat some chicken soup! or get thee to a hospital!

i’ve noticed this starting at a very young age with useless parents (probably had the kid by mistake because they’re too useless to use a condom, or they’re too high on meth or heroin… but i digress) walking around with their kids coughing incessantly and not turning around to bitchslap them for not covering their mouths. back in my day if i so much as cleared my throat without a hand in front of my face, i’d get a speedy backhand to the mouth from seemingly nowhere. i guess this is what happens when you’re not allowed to beat your kids. complete social anarchy. and the rampant spread of disease.

i see why the asians wear face masks everywhere.

I think I’m old

dear god, when did it become so hard to find basic information on the internet? especially information which is not, for some inexplicable reason, a freaking YOUTUBE VIDEO by some complete DOUCHEBAG from the midwest? i mean seriously, either google is becoming teh suck, or i just can’t speak internet like i used to. it makes me sad.

i will save the rant about all the goddamned videos for another time when i’m more caffeinated or angrier.

sorry this post is lame.