The Peevery

Life Ain't Nothing but a Funny Funny Riddle

I was in a karaoke bar [don't ask] the other night and there were but very few songs in a language I understand.  One of the few I had heard of was Goodbye, Yellow Brick Road by Elton John. 

As I looked at the lyrics, I was kind of struck by how a struggle for meter and rhyme results in some farmly activities as imagined by a person who has never been more than ten feet from pavement. 

"Howlin' old owl in the woods"?  I wouldn't say owls howl.  Coyotes?  Check.  Wolves?  Check.  Basset hound?  Check.  Owl?  Sure, whatever.

"Hunting the horny back toad"? I am mostly a city guy these days, and even my local Orvis doesn't have any gear for such an expedition.  I have seen a few horny toads but I have never been on a horny toad hunt.  Maybe it's an English thing. 

Peeves of Yore: No Juice(y) Couture around these parts...

Well, I'm glad we all made it through the biggest and most exciting day of the whole entire year! Scratch that, the decade. Maybe even the Century. Happy Freaking Royal Wedding Day! When you really break it down, it's a story that's been told a million times over. Boy meets girl, girl likes boy, boy courts girl, boy and girl do a little rumble in the jungle between sheets, and then they get married. In front of 2 billion people. They go on a little honeymoon, and finally settle into their $76 million dollar home. That is, until they decide to set up shop in one of the other 9 properties they have. Truth be told, I think the bride and groom were terribly upstaged by the brigade of, "what the fuck?!" hats. Look, I love me some hats, but if I have to sit through a Royal Wedding, I'd prefer to have a view of the bride and groom. Instead, most were forced to bob and weave to see anything since the broad in front of them had a hat as big and obnoxious as Trump Tower. I did think Kate Middleton looked beautiful, and wish them a very healthy and happy life together!

With all this talk about fashion and accessories, I think it's only appropriate to dedicate this POV to clothes/shopping. Happy Friday!

Look, Joanne does not discriminate. To all the fat chicks and non-fat chicks: Before you leave the house, please make sure you don't mistake a belt as a boob restricter. Also, sausages are meant for eating. Don't try and encase your entire body in what makes you look like summer sausage.

I'd like to thank Blaugra for teaching us about the different ways to put on a titsling! So, to all of you slightly post-pubescent who fear the booby apparatus, just print off the peeve and tape it on your closet door. You'll be wearin' and burnin' your bras before you know it!

Lady Gaga's got nothing on Kayteadee. Sure, she towers in her mile high heels, but is she also with child? I think not. To her male colleagues: What's up now, bitches?!

Dear Clinton and Stacy "SHUT UP!" London, Peeved Michelle has done her best to abide by your wardrobe rules. However, if the shoe fits, Peeved Michelle will wear it. Now, shut the fuck up and and bring her some Dr. Scholls and cushy sneakers.

Let's be honest with ourselves. Karla Kay's co-workers were really blowing navy colored smoke up her bum. Sure, wearing the wrong color socks is quite the pisser. However, look on the bright side! You get to go home and take part in some crater crushing (aka zit popping)! Hopefully, I'm not the only one who finds that to be great fun. 

It's like flames up the side of my boobs.

I don't know what the hell was wrong with the bra I put on this morning but after spending the first hour and a half at work itching and scratching and itching some more until they were red, I went to Kohls and bought a new bra.  The relief is awesome.

How Is It Possible

That someone with two master's degrees is totally incapable of assembling furniture from a kit? Or realizing that a shiny thing with a spirally groove is a screw and has to be, well, screwed in? Hammering doesn't have quite the same effect. That's why this cabinet is now practically a pile of kindling. A $300 pile of kindling.

Bed Bug

How to get your baby to sleep 10 hours in a row: make a bottle after 8 hours* when she usually gets up and then wait. And wait.

* Note: This is not an actual peeve. I feel very lucky to have a 10 week old baby who sleeps 8 hours in a row at night. So lucky in fact, I may delete this post so as not to tempt fate.

 

New Math

Brief reprieve from upset stomach + 15oz Monster drink + conference call = a really really bad time

When you're sliding into home, and your pants are full of....

Dear Juice,

It is really not the brightest idea to chug-a-lug 12oz of milk (skim), gobble up 4 oz of cottage cheese (1%), 6 oz of light yogurt, and two slices of swiss cheese. Might I kindly remind you, you're lactose intolerant, dumb ass. Due to your inability to keep your shit in line, I shall now make your day a living hell. Those bathrooms have no idea what they're up against today.

Sincerely,

Your gurgling digestive system that is ready to explode like a volcano

Sweating Like A Whore in Church

It was 90 degrees yesterday and my university still refuses to turn on the air conditioning. Nothing broadcasts competent authority on a lecture topic like sweating through your dress while standing in front of 37 students. And this wasn't just a little pit sweat. It was the complete under-the-boobs, down-the-back, running-down-the-ass-cheeks-and-backs-of-your-legs, and dripping-off-the-forehead sweat. 

Paper Hater

Several pages in my library book look like this:

 
To the jerk who did it: Either use a friggin' bookmark or do your origami somewhere else. It's a library book, ass.

Then Comes The BabyWatch

I cannot wait for this Royal Wedding hype to be over and done with. I get that it's an important event in the largely-irrelevant monarchy, but I am more interested in real world news than the fact that Samantha Cameron is baking cakes for a royal wedding street party. Unless they're chocolate cakes and I'm invited to that street party.

Ain't Nothing But An 'E' Thang

Say "thunder and lightning." That's right, it's lightning, not "lightening." This drives me nuts, although why I'm not quite sure. It just does.

And, for the record, there is an 'e' in tornadoes.

This grammar lesson brought to you by Jim Cantore.

Petty Presents

My older niece and nephew are 21 and 24 respectively.  This past birthday is the last present my niece will get from me and I do not believe my nephew will get anything from me either.  Since each has turned 18 I can count on one hand the number of presents I've received from either of them. Even a card would be acceptable.  I do not always get a thank you when I do send a present. They are adults now. They have my mailing and email address. If they start coming through again I'll come through, but not until I hear from them first.

Just Answer the Question, Claire

My parents are driving through TX on their way back to Arizona either Tuesday or Wednesday night. They will stay with me.  We go out to dinner.  It is a nice little 10 hour visit.  I have asked them three times which night so I can cancel the plans I have on that night with a little advance warning.  Apparently that will not happen and I'll probably cancel both just to be on the safe side.

How many husbands does it take?

Early Sunday morning scenario:

Husband: There's a lightbulb out in the bathroom.

Erin: Okay, thanks.

Early Sunday evening scenario:

Erin: Why the hell didn't you just change the friggin' lightbulb instead of telling me it's out?

I'm more mad at myself for anything, for taking that long for me to ask him the last question.

I'm much less homicidal than posts might indicate.

A review of my posts from Friday has shown me that I throw around way too many death threats. I'm really kind of non-confrontational and non-violent in reality. I blame being super cranky because I was fasting for Good Friday. This weekend's infusion of chocolate and hard boiled eggs has cured me of my murderous tendencies, I promise. 

Fat Sunday

I need to remember that it is not necessary to shovel in a full helping of every single food laid out at the Easter brunch buffet.  Also, three hours after we're done at the buffet is too soon to be eating a full Easter dinner at my father-in-law's house, complete with chocolate pie and birthday cake for dessert.  Also, a couple Reese's peanut butter eggs and 1,352 jellybeans at home later in the evening is completely unnecessary after the previous two meals just mentioned.  Shit, now I'm hungry again...

Just Like When I Was 8

Friday after work I went a little crazy and got a mani and pedi. That's not the crazy part. I agreed to a French manicure, which I've never done before. Saturday several nails had already chipped. Sunday several nails had the polish peel right off. It was exactly like the fake nail polish we had when we were little. Once dry, you peeled it off to repaint again.

Pins & Needles

My coworker and I went to my boss's boss to discuss my boss's behavior and attitude. He wasn't surprised and has been working with her for a year on both those issues. He said he had to think about what to do next.  We're now waiting and getting kind of impatient about it. If something doesn't change it will be demoralizing. It was already hard coming to work every day.  Every day waiting for something to happen makes it even harder.

Be Right When You Write

I know that the advanced degrees earned by my colleagues are in science areas, not English, but the following writing rules should have been instilled at some point during their educational endeavors:

• The word "and" should be typed out. It only takes one more keystroke than hitting "shift" and "7" to make the ampersand does
• Plural nouns do not need an apostrophe before the "s"
• Numbers less than ten should be written out in words; numbers greater than ten should be written as figures or numerals
• Your= posessive of the word "you." You're= contraction form of "you are"
• It's= contraction of "it is."  If you want the possessive form of a non-gender specific term, use the possessive pronoun "its"

By the time I finish editing my 40+ page document, I may have beaten someone to death with my Gregg Reference Manual.

Word I Did Not Want to Hear from My Doctor

"Prediabetic."

Bleah.

Delaying my work this much should mean I can murder you.

Although I am not familiar with the specific etymology of the word "deadline," I believe it stemmed from the implication that a limit was important enough that it could not be crossed at risk of losing one's life. Someone who is higher up the food chain than I am set a deadline of April 11 for submissions of material for the quarterly report in hopes that he could give a completed draft to me before leaving for vacation on April 15. He also sent a reminder on April 15 to those who had not yet followed the rules, stating that I needed the submissions as soon as possible. I've also followed up with reminders of my own this week.

I am still waiting for three of the five stragglers to send me their information, and my deadline to have a final report circulated to the people at the very top of the food chain is looming very closely. My death may only be figurative, but I am sure to suffer the consequences if the deadline is not met.

Must See Ironically

I am concerned at how many TV programs I have watched simply because the main characters -- both scripted and so-called reality --  are obnoxious, annoying, or downright evil.

Next on AmyTV: "Polygamous Bridezilla Parents of Multiples Launch Frivolous Lawsuits Against Former Child Star Serial Killers."

Juice's Future Interns

Overheard in a coffeshop yesterday, 4/20:

College Girl 1 (leggings worn as pants, with Uggs):  "I just remembered! I have a phone interview at 4:30!"

College Girl 2 (leggings worn as pants, with flip-flops): "Oh my God, you have to cancel it."

College Girl 1: "What am I going to do, tell an employer that I can't interview with them because it's 4/20?"

College Girl 2: "Well why would they expect you to interview THEN? Duh!"

Time's up!

Not a big fan of standing around shooting the shit at work. My limit is 10 minutes on the following topics then I will walk away:

• Celebrity gossip: 1 minute
• Food and coffee: 2 minutes
• Neighborhood gossip: 2 minutes
• Parties, movies, shoes, clothes, books, TV: 2 minutes
• Kids and family stuff: 3 minutes

Done and done.

Speaking Ill of the Departed

I was outraged on your behalf when you were fired last year, but I have been cleaning up your messes ever since, including a hidden batch of crap I uncovered today. Like a politician desperately behind in the polls, I'm flip-flopping on this controversial issue. I am no longer on the "You've been wronged" side. I am now firmly in the "You deserved to be fired" camp.

Who's laughing now?

The rabid Amy Grant loving accountant in my office walked by a couple of minutes ago after leaving the bathroom. She went in looking normal (white knitted sweater with horses, ankle length cotton light blue skirt, white socks and brown sandals), but left looking quite different. Sadly, she walked out with her skirt tucked into her over-sized (bright pink) underwear. This situation is extreme enough for me to walk up and give her the 411 on the "moons over my hammy" she was offering her co-workers. Sadly, I was in a meeting in one of our conference rooms with floor to ceiling glass. Therefore, I had to watch my shit for brains interns try not to lose their shit when she walked by. Luckily, someone finally helped. While they don't know it yet, my interns will be spending their Thursday in the mail room. Physically licking envelopes. Assholes.

You too can make a cool half-million bucks in eleven days. Oh, wait.

This e-mail should have the subject line of BAD MATH.

 
 

Sucker!

I can't watch any commercial/infomercial without feeling that I absolutely need the product. Pajama pants that look like jeans? Hell yeah. The Hair Bean that instantly detangles my tresses? Of course I need that.

Black Thumb

This weekend I decided to spruce up my front lawn by planting some gerbera daisies. I felt fully satisfied with my new garden until I walked outside the next day and noticed that some of the flowers were torn or gnawed off. I'm thinking it was a squirrel, or perhaps a rabbit? Whatever the culprit may be, I'm pissed that I can never get anything right when it comes to gardening.

Lost in the City

I'm now working in New York City.

This morning I had my head so far up my ass, I walked at least four blocks before I realized I was going in the wrong direction.

Where is not a Conjunction

I've noticed a quirk of Texans that is starting to make me crazy. Instead of using "so" or "than" they say "where."  For example, "I downloaded that report where I can make changes." I originally thought it was just a quirk of my one coworker until I heard the radio guy do it and another native Texan do it. 

Monday Poop

I travel mainly on Mondays.  What this means is that I set my alarm for 3:45am, and when it goes off I snooze it.  Then I get out of bed at 3:54 am and swear.  Then I take a quick shower - a birdbath really - then get dressed and run downstairs.  I get in the car and fly to the airport.  I get on the plane and snooze the whole way to wherever I'm going.  Once I arrive at the office I get some coffee and start my day.  Then I work about 10 hours.

I do not poop.

The travel jacks me up.  So by the time I finally DO poop, it's about dinnertime and my whole system is a mess. 

*That Monday evening poop is usually the best one of the whole week.

Idiotic Internet

People of the Internet:

Please stop doing the following on Twitter:

• Stop using "winning." Winning is never getting Taco Bell for dinner. Never. After the Charlie Sheen debacle, it's unacceptable to use "winning" in a way that doesn't involve irony. 
• Stop using "shit just got real." For example, "I'm reading Mockingjay and shit just got real when Katniss overheard Gale and Peeta talking about who she'd pick." Plot points in books, on television shows, or in movies are usually fictitious so any assertion that developments are akin to reality are bullshit and stupid.
• Stop insisting on Boobie Wednesday. If you want to find a cure for breast cancer, become a epidemiologist, go volunteer, or make a donation to a charity. Don't use breast cancer awareness to be an exhibitionist. I don't want to see your tits.   

Sincerely,

kayteadee

Let's Play "Identify That Carcass"!

The amount of roadkill in this country is utterly astounding. And since England's roads are all so narrow, I can't swerve out of the way when there's oncoming traffic, which means that my tires get plastered with blood and feathers.

Peeves of Yore: Juices from the boobs...tube

I used to love Friday's. The last day of the week, the first day of the weekend, the thought of pissing off work for two whole days. Everything was fine and dandy until one Friday a few weeks ago. I got to work, turned on my computer, got ready for my 45 minues to an hour of absolutely nothing but surfing trash news. It seemed like every website I arrived at was head over heels about this song called 'Friday.' Hell to the no. Some wannabe stage mom dropped a shit load of money to produce a music video for her daughter with the hopes of becoming Lindsay Lohan famous. This ruined my day, and essentially how I viewed Friday's. However, my love for Friday was re-established this week! I'd like to thank Jimmy Fallon, Stephen Colbert, The Roots, Taylor Hicks, some cheerleading dancers, and a Yeti. TGI 'FRIDAY,' yo!

Let's get down to business. I have decided to dedicate this Peeves of Yore edition to songs, movies, tv shows, and movies. With an unlimited supply of mindless entertainment, it's quite easy to to come up with fightin' words. Let the show begin...

Blaugra would rather be knee deep in a Monte Cristo from Bennigans and risk immediate diarrhea during happy hour, than watch Hoda and Kathie Lee. Blaugra, might I suggest a frosted beer mug and a box of wine the next time you tune in to those broads? Apparently, that's how they can stand eachother!

For Kate the Peon, commercials using mouth watering adjectives for shave gel, American Idol-like audition rejects for foot longs, and anything having to do with Drop Dead Fred Diva are complete and utter shit. However, she draws the line at anything wand-like vibrating near her eye lashes. That, my dear, is for south of the border on a rainy cold and lonely night.

Dear Readers, Slap some Jergens on that shit and call it a day. Seriously. What the fuck? Sincerely, Joanne

Let's just get down to brasstacks. Give me the quick and dirty. In and out, one and done, up and out. Seriously, just give it so me straight. At the end of the day. Look, the bottom line is. These phrases all represent how MamaKaren would like to see erectile dysfuction commercials erected (hehe). This bathub, rainforest with benches, romantic gazing with rainbows and unicorns just isn't getting anyone's shit up.

So, I would have gotten this out a lot sooner. However, my review went on for 4 1/2 hours. What the fuck?! Well, atleast is was positive, right? My mind is now the same consistency as cream of wheat. With that said, I shall leave you with this. I wish I could put my dicks (aka bosses) in a box for completely wasting my Friday afternoon!

Does Sonny Crockett Work Here?

It irritates me when people at my office say "fifty grand" when they mean "fifty thousand dollars".

You Can't Bust This

Give me a break. I am the Director of Social Media for my company. Does someone really think that I would post all over my Twitter account that I am looking for a job in Austin if my boss didn't already know about it? As if I have no idea that of the 850 people who follow me on Twitter, some of them are my coworkers. As if I have no idea that nothing I post on the internet is a secret.

Apparently, a few of my coworkers think I am an idiot because they tried to bust me by tattling on me to my boss.

Fatty Pants, Fatty Pants, Make Me Annoyed

Another thing about the freaking Gold's Gym that bothered me: I told him one of my fitness goals was to lose 30 lbs. He took some measurements, blah blah, and the system programmed that I should lose 60 lbs. So the guy kept saying things like "When you're 60lbs down, you'll feel so much better" and "It will be faster than you think to lose 60lbs."

Except I don't WANT to lose 60lbs. I don't want to work that hard, I don't want to work that long, I don't think I'd like how I looked at that weight. So how about you listen to your clients once in a while?

Ship This

About 3 weeks before I moved, I started talking to my admin at work about the office needs I'd have once I became a home-based worker. I stressed that I would need to know the day my desk was going to be delivered so I could arrange to have someone home during that day, especially since it seemed it was going to be before I actually moved.

Two weeks passed.

I was told the desk took about three weeks to order, and that we couldn't pick the actual delivery date, and did I want her to try for a rush request? YES

Yet somehow, mysteriously, strangely, the desk won't arrive until the end of the month. THIS month. Two more weeks.

Looks like someone decided I'd prefer working awkwardly in a recliner for three effing weeks.  

Looks like someone decided I'd prefer having my office remain in limbo while the rest of the house comes together.

Looks like someone needs to get her bitchface slapped.

The Price of Fat

So my new lease got me a free membership to the local Gold's Gym. There's a fitness room on the floor of my apt building, but I've had luck with personal trainers in the past and was hoping to find one here. Since the membership was already free I figured I'd see what their deal was.

Turns out, their deal was EXPENSIVE. The cheapest personal training option at Gold's was $260. Per month. And that only gets you FOUR training sessions within that month.

Are you effing kidding me? The guy tried hard, talking about priorities and the cost of medicines and health issues down the road, and I get that, but sheesh.

I thought things were supposed to cost LESS in the sticks, not more!

Not My Bag

It really irks me when someone places their bag(s) on train seats and doesn't move it when the car becomes full of people standing. Even when I'm already sitting down I have to fight the urge to walk over and kick it off.

Ooh, That Smell

One of the more unfortunate symptoms I experience during hormonal changes is a heightened olfactory sense. I wish I'd calculated my cycle a bit more closely before agreeing to take CPR class tomorrow. After three hours up close and personal with rubbery smelling Resusci-Andy, I will be ready to demonstrate first hand whether breathing through clenched teeth surpresses emesis.

Things a Grad Student Doesn't Want to Hear

1. "The textbook you paid $180 for is not very good, it's rather convoluted. We'll only be using a few chapters of it anyway."
2. "The homework answer that the book provided was wrong, so some of you got it wrong, and I just deducted a point for that."
3. "Please post your answers to the board in the front of the class. Do it quickly."
4. "This material probably won't be clear to you until we're in about week 5."

What can you add?

The hills are alive with the sound of pooping.

Doesn't this Swiss miss look like she's going to take a crap right there on that pristine mountainside?

Going Against the Flow

Dear Woman with the Pit Bull: There are two reasons why pedestrians are supposed to walk opposite the flow of vehicular traffic on streets without sidewalks: (1) So you can see oncoming vehicular traffic and (2) so you wont be forced to walk past other pedestrians walking their dogs right next to you. I'm sure your dog's breed has been unfairly vilified. But perhaps when you're taking Killer out for a walk, you shouldn't force the rest us to be in close proximity to him. Nor should you insist on not moving out of the way for people who are walking on the correct side of the street. Sincerely, Kayteadee

Turn Around, Dummy

I always load the dishwasher after dinner, because no one else loads like me, and I'm a bit OCD about it. At least three times a week, though, I have everything loaded, counters wiped, and then I turn around and remember my kitchen is the galley style, and there is a stove and countertops behind me. The stove will usually have a few greasy, hard-to-scrub pans too, just to drive home the point to me that I'm dumb.

What a Scam!

I got my vehicle registration form in the mail.  Looking at it, if I write a check it will cost me $53.00. If I pay in person it will only cost me $52.00. For some reason I foolishly thought that if I paid online I would only pay the $52.00.  Silly girl. Apparently to pay online it will be $54.00.  Doesn't that seem incorrect?  The CHEAPEST way to pay is to go down and speak to a real person.

Everything but the hair on my chinny chin chin...

I called my regular eyebrow/stache lady on Thursday with the hopes of hopping in for a quickie today (desperate need). Well, apparently she's super popular now and didn't have time until this Thursday! I thought I could deal with this situation. I couldn't. I shaved. I have NEVER done that before, and the second I got done I began to sweat profusely. I fear it will grow back and I'll have face pubes.

Note to Self: You're a Fucking Idiot

I'm currently sprawled in a chair in the lobby of my office building in an unbecoming, unprofessional manner. Two reasons for this: (1) I ate a cookie. I know I shouldn't eat cookies. My digestive system, altered by weight loss surgery can handle some cookies, but not others. There was no reason to think it would be able to handle the big, chocolate chip cookie I jammed down my gullet. (2) The Quiet Room, that lovely dark room with a couch on which I napped several times while I was pregnant, was occupied, probably by some douchebag on a phone interview for a new job.

So, here I sit (sprawl), waiting until I no longer feel like I want to die.

(If you want details, Google "dumping syndrome.")

A Little Discretion Goes a Long Way

I relayed a consumer complaint to my district manager and the local manager where the customer received poor service.  The "offending" people involved in the dispute received a copy of the email I sent concerning the complaint. I consequently received a scathing phone call from one of the said offenders.  This was not a personal attack by me on ANYONE.  It was a consumer issue.  Am I wrong for being totally and unequivocally pissed off?