like Andy Rooney with tits

...Big, succulent tits, I might add.

Anyway, boys and girls, I got some bitching to do, so grab yo’self your beverage of choice and sit down for a spell.


RANT #1


In general, I actually rather like rain. To me, there is nothing more comforting than sitting in bed reading a good book and listening to the rain beating against the windows.

The key words in the above sentence: sitting in bed, not sitting in a Chevy Cavalier on the 101 behind eighteen thousand other cars while Cal Trans fills in the potholes that have sent much more unfortunate drivers to the side of the road with flat tires and broken axles.

Other key words? Listening to the rain, not listening to the squeak of my windshield wipers (which desperately need replacement blades) and radio stations who think it’s clever to play rain-related songs. If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard “Blame It On the Rain”, “Here Comes the Rain Again”, “Who Will Stop the Rain?”, and “No Rain” over the last week, well…I could replace my windshield wiper blades and those of everyone in my apartment complex (not that I would, aside from K, because we live with some real assholes).


RANT #2


When, pray tell, did “whoops!” and “uh-oh!” become acceptable substitutions for “excuse me”?


RANT #3


There is a woman who works in this building that I absolutely loathe. I refer to her as Petunia, after the cartoon pig, because that’s what she looks like: porcine in a disturbingly feminine way. She always wears six-inch stiletto heels and minces around doing nothing but talking to her friends and laughing in a manner that reminds me of gravel in a garbage disposal. Whenever she sees me, she gives me the nastiest stinkeye I’ve seen since Bimborella was still in town, and---like Bimborella---I have no idea what I’ve done to offend her.

Next week, when I work late, I’m going to throw the oil from a can of tuna fish on her seat. Enjoy the squishing sensations, you jizz Jacuzzi.


RANT #4


Practically every one of my coworkers takes personal calls during work. Okay, that’s fine; not like I never talk to Daddy-O when I should be putting together subrogation demands. But their friends/family members/nannies/doctors aren’t calling them on their work phones; they’re calling them on their cell phones. Even that wouldn’t be a big deal…IF THEY HAD NORMAL FUCKING RINGTONES! If I have to listen to one more tinny rendition of “When the Saints Come Marching In” or the theme from “Swan Lake” or “Ride of the Valkyries”, I will find the offender, wrest their cell phone from their hand, and shove it up their ass. I won’t even be nice enough to switch it to the vibration function, either.


AND ON THE PLUS SIDE…


It’s always been my personal policy that, when I make a bitch list, I must make a happy list of equal number…so here goes.

*You know that Ben and Jerry’s ice cream flavor that’s obviously supposed to be Almond Joy, but has a different name because they don’t want to pay for the rights? It’s called something like Chocolate-Chunk Coconut Vanilla Almond Orgasm, but don’t quote me on that. Anyway, I got my sample pack of fragrances from LuckyScent, and The Exact Friction of Stars smells just like that tastes. Buh-liss.

*The thunderstorm on Sunday morning made for a perfect backdrop for some sweet snoobling with G. I curled up in his arms and he fed me blueberry mini-muffins, and it was just wonderful.

*It’s actually been sunny all day. When 9:30 rolled around, I was jumping around HangDog’s cube like a dog tugging its leash down from the doorknob, squealing “Wanna walk? Let’s go walk! Come on, let’s walk!” Of course, sunny does not automatically equal warm, but it was still nice to get outside and enjoy the fresh air.

*Viva Las Vegas, baby.