>Ahem.
I have come to the conclusion that some people get off on being miserable.
Just an observation.
I have also noticed that the gender most predominantly affected by this phenomenon is female. This is not a broad generalization (no pun intended), it is only pertaining to people that I am around on a daily basis. I have learned, through these findings, that this is a major part of my potential life that I have not seriously indulged in.
Damn. Now I have to think of some things to get really bummed about. Ah! I shall make a list. Of things that piss me off. This may be lengthy and arbitrary, but I really can’t think of what else to write about today, so my contribution is limited.
1. Velour jogging suits. What sort of Mickey mouse bullshit is this? Is it the official uniform of soccer moms nationwide? Grow the fuck up and quit trying to look like you’re 21.
2. Spoiled children in the grocery store. Granted, I realize I as of yet have no children of my own, and as such you may deem me supremely unqualified to make this observation, but having lived and worked in a daycare environment for almost 10 years, I know how children will behave for their teachers and daycare providers then become these loathsome, uncontrollable demanding creatures the moment their parents arrive. THAT is why it pisses me off. Pussy-ass parenting. Get some balls, people.
3. People who wear too much perfume and cologne. Just makes you wonder what they smell like without it.
4. The entire Generation Y.
5. Those channel-specific ads with the sound effects that pop up during the show you are currently watching advertising a show you are not currently watching and thus refuse to watch on the basis that it interrupted the show you were watching. This really pisses me off when I’m watching TNG on Spike. Bastards.
6. People who refuse to leash their dogs. I have two dogs, and they are on a leash at all times save for trips to the dog park. The kicker is when people get pissed at me when my leashed-dog snaps at their un-leashed dog when their un-leashed dog gallops up and jumps all over the damn place. I think some people should be leashed.
7. Those damn stuffers in the mail with grocery store ads and pizza coupons that fall apart the minute you take them out of the mailbox.
8. Dead watch batteries.
9. Being called a “microsoft wife”. Fuckers.
10. Women’s magazines. They should include antidepressant prescriptions and self-image therapy with the subscription.
11. Reality shows.
12. When they re-make a movie and it sucks ass (i.e., The Ring 1&2, the Grudge; pretty much any Americanized-remake of brilliant Japanese horror films…)
13. Opinionated judgmental sensationalist self-important brainwashing documentary filmmakers.
14. People who make lists of what pisses them off.
Okay, that’s enough for today. Spending a considerable amount of time thinking about what pisses you off is not a very constructive way to spend your time. Now go away so I can find something else to do. Like clam-digging.
Voulez-voulez-vous clam-digging.
Niff.Dot 
>Spoiled children in the grocery store!! GRRRRRR!! And GOD FORBID you say anything.True story: I was on line at the supermarket behind some youngish mother and her demon spawn.The kid is awful. Just horrendous.He’s whining about how he wants candy and how he hates the store and when can we go. Now he’s got a CHARLESTON CHEW and he’s using it as a drum: spanking everything in sight. Candy. Magazines. Whack. Whack. Whack.This kid is not TWO, he’s EIGHT or NINE, for Chrissake.I’m getting frustrated with them so I turn around to ignore. I can’t even bear to look at this brat.Next, he is SMACKING ME with his candy club. ME!I turn around to deal with this and the boy proceeds to smack me with his Chew.His mother gives me that smile that says, “He’s cute, huh?” and then goes back to putting packages on the conveyer belt thing.I think: WHAT!? She’s not going to tell him to stop?? She’s fine with this??SO, *I* say to the boy: “It’s not nice to hit people.”He smiles at me. Yay! Fun! A reaction!He keeps hitting.I say (loudly), “DO NOT HIT ME.”His mother whips around, “Do not talk to my son.”Me: “Ma’am. He’s hitting me.”Her: “He’s just a child.”Me: “A poorly raised child.”(Yeah, I did)Her (almost a yell): “He IS NOT. You may NOT talk to my SON!”Me (calmly, confidently): “Ma’am. You should thank me for teaching to raise to raise your son today. Clearly you don’t know how.”(She explodes)Her: “DON’T YOU TELL ME…” (etc)I didn’t say another word. She went off and I stood there and smiled at her.In a few seconds, she stormed out, dragging her evil child with her.The old woman behind me then whispered, “What a little monster.”I turned, smiled and said: “The kid was pretty bad, too.”It took a second to sink in and my new, old friend laughed.
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>Thank you; I just came home from a sh*t day from work and that was the funniset thing I’ve heard all day. I’d be tempted to grab the candy from is hand and chuck it down the aisle. Let his mummy fetch it. I weep for the future.
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>After reading AJ’s comment I can’t even remember what the post was about…Oh yeah peeves. Oh VELOUR JUMPSUITS!!!!I already told you this, but it so needs to be typed. i am so not cut out for the suburban warrior gig. I not only bareley restrained my derisive laughter of disgust, but could hardly speak to a woman wearing one of these at Katy’s gymnastics class the other day, because not only was it a ridiculously childish shade of pink, it was color coordinated to her daughter’s unitard!!!! Ugh. I am in my teens, all over again. It was so nice to live under the delusion of fitting in for a while…FREAKY MOMS UNITE!(even the ones whose babies aren’t here yet, and thsoe who are boys, and well anybody freaky and cool with being freaky around kids. Uh, yeah. Ok, so maybe I am the loser that I fear being…)
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