The Peevery

Discontinued

My current favorite pair of shoes is a brand called "Bite" and they are black and casual and have a Croc footbed.  I wanted to replace them with a new pair.  I knew Croc had bought out the company. I am displeased that Croc bought out the company and then promptly discontinued the shoe.

Don't Stop Until You Get Enough

I was jogging at the park yesterday and I was drinking from the water fountain.

Then, some lady came up to use the fountain.

I had never before seen anyone bend at the waist and drink while continuing to jog in place.

Really?  The 5-10 seconds it takes to stop for a snootful would so disrupt your work out?

Starving Ethiopians Made Me Fat

I'm not a huge ice cream fan, and no, that doesn't make me unAmerican. The BF, however, is in favor of this melty mush. To remind him that I do have a nice side, I bought him a package of Magnum ice cream bars. I heard through a reliable source (i.e, Facebook) that they were the ish and only very recently sold in the US. What would he like better than immigrant ice cream?

Turns out, a lot. The bars were "too sweet" for him. So the options were to either let the two remaining bars languish in the freezer, where I had to concede defeat every time I saw them, or...to eat them.

I'm going to let you guess which option I chose.

Half-assin' It

In the past week I seem to have done everything halfway. I put the laundry in the dryer, but forgot to turn it on. I've started ironing my clothes to realize that I never plugged the iron in. I have made my coffee only to realize I never put the sweetener in.

I'm really hoping I don't drop a deuce and forget to wipe.

Olympic Failure

I lived in Canada during the 2010 Olympics. In the couple of years' lead-up to the Olympics, I really wanted to get event tickets and cheer my country on. Alas, the flight to Vancouver alone would have been more expensive than my budget, let alone the overpriced tickets.

Now I live in England, which is hosting the 2012 Olympics via London. I actually live a 50-minute train ride away from central London, so I've been looking forward to finally getting my hands on some Olympics tickets since the travel costs are almost nil. I applied for 5 events, hoping to get my hands on tickets for one. They've now done the ticket lottery, and I am empty-handed. Some people got £11,000 worth of tickets, and I can't even manage £80. At least there was the promise that those who didn't get tickets would get first dibs on the next round.  That kept me going.

Found out last week what tickets were available in the second (and last) round of pre-worldwide sales. My choices: £300 (EACH ticket) to see some Athletics heats (not quarterfinals, even), or my pick of 1.7 million available football (soccer to Americans) tickets (blech).

What a freaking waste. Now I have to move to Russia in time for the 2014 Olympics.

Peeves of Yore: Juice Loves Amy

Happy freaking Friday, my friends! If you were to look up the word unproductive in the dictionary today, you would see my name in big bold letters. My morning was spent surfing all of the online trash magazines, blogs, funny videos, and Facebook. It is now the afternoon, and I don't see my productivity level rising whatsoever. Do I feel guilty about this? No. Go ahead, you have my permission to do this too. It's quite liberating. Sometimes, we just need a day like that! I am very much looking forward to the end of this day, and my weekend of FREEDOM! 

It was brought to my attention last week that I have neglected to include Amy in any of my Peeves of Yore thus far. Well, an unhappy peever is not something that makes me very happy. Therefore, to make it up to Amy, I have decided that this week, my PoV is dedicated to her!

It's been almost three years since Amy has actually slept. Why? She's pussy-whipped. The pussy keeps her up. But, I bet if you asked if this bothers her, she'd say, "Hello no! I love my pussy!"

You may want to check your computer for any potential viruses. My guess (I always think in the negative) is maintainance was kickin' their feet up on your desk, eatin' some M&Ms, and watchin' some porn.

BUT... Can you see Russia from your house? Maybe it's Tina Fey who's copying you? That would be flattering! But, I do see your point.

Well, at least you have eyes (even if they are raisin eyes). I'm a quarter Asian, and that quarter some how ended up being my eyes. Growing up, whenever someone would take a picture of me, you would with out a doubt, hear my mother saying, "Juice, open your eyes nice and big! They're a little squinty right now!" Mascara or no mascara, all of the photo memories I have make me look like everything is a surprise!

Dearest Amy, Between being completely pussy-whipped, and pondering the potential elephatitis of the balls the man on the bus has, you may never fall asleep!

While I do hope you all enjoyed this weeks Peeves of Yore, my wish is that this makes Amy an especially happy little pussy-whipped peever!

Jerky

A couple of months ago, I bought a Groupon for Nature's Prime Organic Foods. Great deal, right? 

Well, I know that organic foods are more expensive than conventional. But some of the items are ridiculously priced. $16 for 12 ounces of coffee. So, my Groupon isn't taking me as far as I would have liked.

Then, they were sold out of at least half of the Groupon-specific items, and the only things left for me to buy, besides coffee, were sausages and these things called snackers. WTF are "snackers?"

Are these like just pieces of cooked meat you eat out of the bag? Are they jerky? I don't like jerky.

I ended up with $75 worth of overpriced organic coffee and sausages that I didn't need.

To top it off, delivery time is expected to be something like 4 weeks so when it finally shows up on my porch and hopefully the neighborhood dogs won't get to it first, I'll be all, "WTH is THIS?"

Weeds!

Stop growing in my landscape beds. Why isn't all this mulch deterring you?

School's Out for Summer!

I am 3 days away from my final business school class before summer break and I am so very excited. I can't even concentrate enough to study for the exam, I just keep making lists of fun things to do. Even the title of this post is rushing things a bit.

Game Over. Before it even starts.

Two more words that can suck it: Dry. July.

After much thought, consideration, soul-searching, and tallying up the number of social events on my calendar, I just don't think it's possible. Maybe something will change in me by next Friday? Yeah, no, who am I kidding? Maybe next year...

Ice Shortage

When we bought our house eight and a half years ago, my wife and I bought the bottom line version of every appliance.  The washer, dryer, stove, and refrigerator were all the most basic models that Sears had.  The ONLY extravagance I insisted upon was an ice maker in the freezer.  I don't want to have to worry about ice.  I like ice.  It makes my beverages more refreshing, especially in summer, which has finally arrive here in Buffalo.  So why in the HELL does my wife turn the ice maker OFF every damned day?  By the time I notice that it's off, there's usually only enough ice for one glass of whatever I'm drinking.  Tomorrow I'll turn off the hot water tank and see what she thinks. 

How Busy Must a Body Be?

I saw a headline where some LA school district is scrapping chocolate milk in school lunch rooms. 

Really?  Chocolate milk is among the worst things kids eat?  I like to refuel with a pint after a long work out.  No adverse effects so far.

Rinsing with o.j. would be smarter.

One might think that after my umpteenth summer living in Georgia, I would remember to let the cold water run for a bit when brushing my teeth before sticking my head under the faucet. You know what comes out first? Nice, hot water that doesn't feel so nice swishing around my oral cavity.

Peeves of Yore: Weiners Sauteed in Juice

Wow, it sure has been an exciting week in the world of politics, hasn't it? From Newt and his entire staff essentially giving him the finger and completely abandoning ship, to Andrew Weiner. Oh, Weiner. Weiner. Weiner. Weiner. His last name is one of those words you just want to sporadically scream out in a crowed and quiet lecture hall or board meeting. Blah, blah, blah....WEINER!...blah, blah....WEEEINERRRS! I do actually have weiners on my mind today. It's our company wiffle ball tournament today, and before the big game we're having a nice little cookout. My contribution? Oscar Meyer WEINERS! I did have a nice little exchange at the market with my cashier as I was checking out with my Weiners. It went exactly like this:

Cashier: Well, hi there! I just ran out of paper bags, is plastic okay?

Juice: Oh, no problem! You may actually just put my stuff in my 'green bag.'

Cashier: Oh yeah, I see it. But, I ran out of paper bags so is it okay to put your stuff in plastic for you to carry in your 'green bag?'

Juice: ?

There were no words. That being said, I think today's PoV will be dedicated to people. There are just so many types of people in the world we live in, and it's time for them to get Juiced!

What Jen14221's co-workers do not know is that with in days, she will be morphed into Patrick Bateman. Business cards, and all. Watch out, bitches! She'll cut you.

You'll know when Rachel is done being bored, and transitions into being completely raging shit pissed. How? Because your front end will be completely up her ass - and she'll be happy. Because, you will be buying her a new car.

Shit, this bitch was lucky Peeved Michelle wasn't 'P to the Motherfucking MS' today. Otherwise, the shit would have hit the fan.

Dear Blaugra, Guess what? Just received my new crop of interns! And you hit the nail on the head, sister. It's going to be a loooong summer. I'm guessing my new mission statement will read something like Peeved Michelle's 'P to the Motherfucking MS' very soon.

Rachel, Always check with the ladies from accounting. Those sneaky ladies always seem to find their way to cake whether they know the person it's for, or have any clue what the occasion is. They can smell butter cream two miles away.

Have a lovely weekend everyone!

The Worst of Summer Fashion?

It's catching a glimpse of unsightly feet and toes dangling out of sandals. It makes me shudder thinking of all the crustiness I've seen lately.

I am dumb

How old do I have to get before I realize that I must apply sunscreen EVERY TIME I am in the sun for more than five minutes? How many sunburns do I have to get? I look and feel terrible. I can only blame myself.

We're Breaking Up

I received a voicemail today from a company doing some work for me. I had to play the message more than once to fully understand the garbled, fast-talking dude on the call.

When I called back and spoke to him, the majority of the two-minute conversation was him saying "YOU'RE BREAKING UP." "YOU'RE REALLY BREAKING UP, I CAN'T HEAR YOU."

I hate when I get called out for something that I don't call others out for.

Peeve on Nicor, Peeve on Me

Did you know that on Nicor's "contact us" page, they don't list their phone number? 

I tried to call Nicor (my old gas company) a billion times today (seriously, like a dozen) and got the busy signal all but one of those times. How's that for customer service?

I did finally get ahold of someone who talked superfast and repeated the same information three times to me, all superfast. She told me told me that despite sending me my last bill in mid-May, they didn't pull the total amount until June 8th. Which seems like a crazy-long timeframe, but I suppose that's actually normal when it comes to auto-pay, right? So now I am annoyed I was annoyed because there was no need to be annoyed. 

At Least One of Us Is Getting Exercise

We've just come back from holiday, during which my in-laws kindly looked after our cat. Dorothy (the cat) became quite attached to one of their cat's toys (a stick with feathers on the end of it) over the course of her stay, which they gave us to bring home since their cat doesn't play with it anymore. Every freaking waking minute, Dorothy wants us to play with this toy, and just sits next to it and whines until we give in.*meow meow meow* Damn featherstick.

Game Over

Two words that can suck it: Vacation. Over.

Dear Old Dad

With all the things to be angry about in the world, I am overly-angered by Hallmark holidays like Father's Day and all the e-mailed and tweeted opportunities to buy my dad a gift that he won't really use.

For instance, what could I possibly find for my 70+ year old dad at Endless? The answer is nothing. Suggesting I shop there for Father's Day is a thinly veiled attempt to get me to shop for a new bag or pair of flats for myself. (It worked!)

Meanwhile, my dad will be receiving a hamburger dinner from me. And probably a stupid Hallmark card.

Can I get a bulk discount on SSRIs?

I do not enjoy having a trip to the pharmacy cost me close to $100 (my daughter's mood stabilizer and my son's ADHD medication are not available in generic form, so I have to pay brand name prices for 40% of their meds). I also do not like my children having meltdowns and getting suspended during the times when I am most busy at work and therefore least able to drop everything to come pick them up at school.

I know that mood disorders are genetic, but I am sticking to the story that I am depressed/anxiety ridden because of them, not the other way around.

Regression

Suddenly my mother is like a fourteen year old kid with their first facebook account. In the span of twelve minutes I got fourteen posts on my wall from the "Friend Fighting Quiz" and from "Friends <3." My response - block them all!

Neighborhood Coneheads

One thing that REALLY peeves me off is when neighbors place cones or garbage cans on the street in front of their homes to save parking space. Not only is it illegal, but some of these people have driveways which makes it that much more obnoxious. The rowdy teenager in me wants to troll around the neighborhood and steal or kick them all down.

Reader Peeve: Blockbuster Edition

Shelley has a peeve:

People, turning on your hazard lights as you sit in the fire lane clearly marked with a bright red curb and hash lines under the sign that reads "NO PARKING FIRE LANE" does NOT make it any more legal! Or any less irritating to those of us who actually park in a marked parking space and walk a whole 20 feet and back to return that movie or run in and buy cigarettes or whatever else it is that makes actually parking in the parking lot an unacceptable option for you. PARK YOUR LAZY ASS AND WALK! That is all.

Peeve at Work

I know I'm a consultant and basically a paid slave, but treat me like a human being.  Communicate with me, say hello, say please and thank you, and I won't have to stab you in your motherfucking belly. 

I Need a Literary Transfusion, Stat!

On the radio in the mornings I have been hearing McDonald's commercials for their smoothies.

Some dizzy whiney girl says something like this:

It's like a Catch-22 of beverages.  I want to drink this delicious McDonald's smoothie but if I do I will be hastening the end of the thing I love the most.

Miss, I am not sure what this bug you've got is but we can definitely rule out Catch-22.  I'm going to give you a referral to Doc Daneeka.  Please call his office to set up an appointment.

It Made Me Feel Non-OK

My shoes were sexually harassed on the bus last night!

A young man got on and complimented me on my Doc Martens wing-tips.

Then he proceeded to tell me how well they went with my black tights.

When he got off the bus four stops later, he said, "I pray to God to send me a girlfriend like you who's willing to wear black Doc Martens for me, because I'm tired of being single."

My shoes are presently in the "denial" stage, about to move into "anger" and then to "bargaining."

Murphy's Law Wins Again

It figures that this mysterious itchy rashy patch would return now that I took the anti-itch cream out of my purse. 

I am not a bunch of snowpeas!

It's that lovely time of year again, when it's 95 degrees (which feels like 110 with heat index) outside, but my office is air conditioned based on the comfort of old men in suits. The "quick cook, then flash freeze" method is great for vegetables, but not so much for people.

I can hear them, but I can't see them.

I'm a wind-chime-y girl. But I draw the line at camouflage-patterned wind chimes. Don't tell me that huntresses and military people will love them, no -- the line is drawn. 

And why the store would think that camo windchimes belong with a barrel of bath poufs also perplexes me.

Bright Light!

Here I am, back at the CVS. This display may look pretty --

-- but that uplighting gets hot, and starts to cook the products. I'm convinced that makes the lotions and potions less effective.

Beauty and the Bentley. Both are questionable.

I'm addicted to The Bachelorette. However, I've realized that I my addiction is fueled by the need to be completely annoyed by the show, and the bachelorette herself. There is a medium sized part of me that is also sickly amused by watching a 20-something girl "fall in love" in a matter of mere weeks. Here are the things I am most annoyed with:

1. What's up with her hair? I'm not just talking about the color either (which I think is dull). I'm talking about the bangs that hang partially over her eyes. I'm not a hairstylist, but I think it looks damn silly. Plus, it would annoy me everytime I blinked.

2. So far, ever episode has had some sort of dance date involved. Look, we know you're a dancer! Sometimes, I wonder if it's actually Ashley who is promoting herself, with the hopes of landing dancing gig. Stick with Dentist gig, Ashley.

3. For the love of... STOP chewing on the inside of your top lip! It doesn't make you look cute or innocent or virginal. Who wants to kiss someone who gnaws and tears up the inside of their mouth? Gross.

Funniest moment of the episode:

So, I may receive some (or alot) of nasty comments for what I'm about to admit. Sadly, I'm not sorry for saying it. Last night's episode included the exit of one of the "villian" guys named, Bentley. I about shart my pants from laughter when he said to the camera, "I'm about to make Ashley cry. But, I hope my hair looks okay." (Comment is at 1:03)

Lazy, Illiterate, or Both?

To the lady in the Target parking lot:

Want to know why the whole bed of your full-size truck is sticking out into the parking lot? Because you just parked in the COMPACT CAR spot you dumbass. It's clearly marked.

The chick glaring at you,

Erin

Shut Your Piehole, Vol. 918

The reason you have not had a promotion in the five years you have been at the company is because every word out of your mouth is negative. No one wants to hear it. Also, you aren't sarcastic-funny, you are sarcastic-bitter, but you don't seem to know the difference. That little bit of laughter you hear is the uncomfortable laughter of your direct reports. No one else can be bothered to try to humor you.

What do you think?

For the past two days I've had to stand on the train for my hour commute into Manhattan. Even at 30 weeks pregnant not a single soul had offered me their seat. I can't figure out if I have a right to be angry or if I'm just being hormonal and crotchety.

Bed, Bath, and Bogus

Our new house is a smallish century-old bungalow hybrid and has accordingly smallish windows. To conceal the ugly miniblinds (and our occasional unfortunate choices in at-home loungewear), we decided to buy some nice plain white curtains.

Bed, Bath, and Beyond, however, had other ideas for our decor. A good 98% of their window treatment stock consisted of humongous panels, none under 84" long. Everything else -- all six or so items -- was fussy patterned cafe curtains with foofy valances. Since we have neither great sweeping floor-to-ceiling windows nor a desire to live in a 1940s tea room, we were forced to slink away, curtainless and defeated.

We will now sacrifice a white rooster (well, a Chicken McNugget) as an offering to the great gods of Target, and hopefully they will save us in our hour of need.

Burial at Sea

Damn dead Sea-Monkeys. They never even wore pearls or played ball with a little Sea-Monkey dog.

Peeves of Yore: Juice Sweating Technology

I've come to realize that I piss and moan about the weather quite a bit, and today is no different. The only way I can describe the weather today: Hotter than a cat on a hot tin roof. Hotter than a four balled tomcat. Hotter than hell's waiting room. Hotter than a whore house on nickle night. It's that hot around here. All I can think about is the moment I step out of my office, I will have boob sweat, cleave sweat, ass sweat, inner thigh sweat, total body sweat. Sweat, sweat, sweat, sweat, sweat. Totally hot blooded.

So, I have been hearing alot about online hacking, stealing, and cheating lately. Therefore, I would like to dedicate this wonderful PoY to technology and the world wide web, otherwise referred to (in the early 90's) as the Information Super Highway.

Have a headache? Stare at the computer screen for as long as possible. The blaring light to the pupils, mixed with the radiation, definitely does a body good! Hey, it worked for Peeved Michelle.

I love #Wednesday #BoobieWednesday! Shit just got real up in this bitch #winning. Can't wait until next #BoobieWednesday so shit can get real up in here again #winning#CharlieSheen#winning. #EpicTwitterFail. Love, kayteadee

Might I suggest two computers, Blaugra? This is why I have two in my office. So I can pretend to multi-task, when I'm actually just farting around on the internet. Like I'm doing at this very moment (Seriously, who schedules a webinar on a Friday afternoon?).

Well said, Nikki! If you don't want yo mama to see your teet-teets wobbling around like a Martini shaker, you have two options. 1. Don't do it! 2. If you do it, you are not to "friend" yo mama! Shake, rattle, and roll all you want, people. However, if JLo can't keep her ex-hubby from publishing her naughty-naughty moments, trust me, you won't be able to either.

 

Too Airheaded to Peeve

I've had at least five instances in the past week during which something peeve-worthy happened when I had no access to any of my reminder techniques (computer, notepad, voicemail) and I got so distracted by the other crap that I had to take care of that I'd forgotten what I was planning to peeve about.

I blame my CEO, my children and my middle-aged brain.

It's About to Get All Stupid Up In Here

My dumbest decision of the day:  Trying to run 7 miles fast in 90 degrees heat.  At 6 PM after a late lunch.  Consisting of nine tamales.

My second dumbest decision of the day:  Not taping my nipples.  I don't think my girlfriend would approve if I forgo bathing until the soreness is gone.

My third dumbest decision of the day:  At the park, I tried to be courteous and let some other guy use the porta john before me, since we both got there at the same time.  I should have known what this guy was thinking because he was wearing dress pants, jogging shoes, no shirt and carrying a pair of shorts.  I waited about five minutes.  I didn't want to leave because I kept hoping this guy would come out, and because it was about a five minute jog to the next loo and I really had to pee.  Unfortunately, I guess this guy had decided to turn in for the night because he never came out.  I ended up making the trek to the next one.  However, I think this guy's decision to change clothes in a portajohn is dumber than my three combined.  That is about the most disgusting thing I heard all day.

Pee-Very Badly

I've had to pee since 8:30 this morning. I haven't been too busy to make a hop, skip, and jump to the ladies room. I just haven't gone. I've told myself ever since 8:30, that I should get up and go. Now, as I sit here and type about this, my bladder is about to explode. I wonder what it will do when I enter the stall and make visual contact with the potty? Well, we're about to find out. The wait is over, as I fear if I wait much longer I'll get a UTI or something.