I am a big fan of casual Fridays. Give a professional gal one day a week for jeans and flats, please! I work hard. Let me look chic and RELAXED sometimes. I give you chic and pro-fessional every other day of the week.
I am not, however, a fan of other people's interpretation of casual Fridays. There's a gal in accounting whom I'll call Ethel. Ethel dresses in floral flour sacks during the week, but at least those flour sacks are appropriate for church. Loose fitting capris with a baggy tee and Tivas with socks are NOT OK FOR CHURCH. OR THE OFFICE. OR SITTING BY YOURSELF PETTING YOUR CAT. Your cat is embarrassed of you, trust me.
Then there's Casual Friday Sluts. You guys know the phrase, "there's no crying in baseball?" It was made popular after that Tom Hanks-Geena Davis gem, "A League of Their Own." If there's no crying in baseball, bitches, there is also NO CLEAVAGE AT WORK. A gal in my HR Department is the worst offender. She is a hard, cold, pretty unattractive bitch and yet wears spaghetti strap tanks that show tit and shoulder in the summer months. Please spare us, Jane! None of the sales guys are ready for that jelly.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Hush Up or Hang Up: Cell Phone Fuck Ups 101
I am the first to admit I talk loudly when on my cell phone. It's really not my fault. Not only are people used to me booming out dialogue like an extra selling newspapers in the back of an opera house, but I am usually speaking to people while driving my practical but no-frills-like-silencing Honda Fit.
When I purposefully quiet my voice when on my cell in public, individuals like my mother immediately have trouble hearing me. "I just walked into work, Mom," is met with: "WHAT DID YOU SAY? I CAN'T HEAR YOU, CATHERINE!!! ARE YOU IN YOUR CAR?!" Rather than accommodate her shamelessly, however, I'm proud to say that I walk completely away from all humanoids within a fifty foot radius before I raise my voice in response, OR when that option is impossible, I politely hang up.
If you are having a conversation in a public place in a normal tone of voice YOU ARE BOTHERING ME. And everyone else within earshot. You hos with gossip and drama are not entertaining us with your ex-boyfriend's shenanigans. You are making us picture someone cramming a ten pound hoagie in your irritating pie hole.
People who talk at cash registers need one response and one response only. Target, Wal-Mart and Dollar Store cashiers, I'M TALKING TO YOU: next time some tramp tries to make a purchase whilst talking to Bobbycakes on her cellular telephone, you pick up that loud speaker mic and say with moxie: "Manager to register number 10! I've got a dumb slut talking on her phone over here! Cellphone infraction, register 10!"
Then, if she does not hang up and snap to immediately, hold the loudspeaker mic limply while glaring at her with the heated hatred of 10 million suns. I guarantee you that I, along with everyone behind me, will want to sleep with you immediately. Ring us up and take your pick.
When I purposefully quiet my voice when on my cell in public, individuals like my mother immediately have trouble hearing me. "I just walked into work, Mom," is met with: "WHAT DID YOU SAY? I CAN'T HEAR YOU, CATHERINE!!! ARE YOU IN YOUR CAR?!" Rather than accommodate her shamelessly, however, I'm proud to say that I walk completely away from all humanoids within a fifty foot radius before I raise my voice in response, OR when that option is impossible, I politely hang up.
If you are having a conversation in a public place in a normal tone of voice YOU ARE BOTHERING ME. And everyone else within earshot. You hos with gossip and drama are not entertaining us with your ex-boyfriend's shenanigans. You are making us picture someone cramming a ten pound hoagie in your irritating pie hole.
People who talk at cash registers need one response and one response only. Target, Wal-Mart and Dollar Store cashiers, I'M TALKING TO YOU: next time some tramp tries to make a purchase whilst talking to Bobbycakes on her cellular telephone, you pick up that loud speaker mic and say with moxie: "Manager to register number 10! I've got a dumb slut talking on her phone over here! Cellphone infraction, register 10!"
Then, if she does not hang up and snap to immediately, hold the loudspeaker mic limply while glaring at her with the heated hatred of 10 million suns. I guarantee you that I, along with everyone behind me, will want to sleep with you immediately. Ring us up and take your pick.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Get Your Shit Together, People: Facebook Fuck Ups 101
I fondly remember the days when only people way younger and/or more annoying than me were on MySpace, and the only people on Facebook were students and my friends who are professors. While I remain hopelessly geeked out by MySpace, at some point, I felt the uncontrollable urge to join Facebook. Now it's as much a part of my life as work and my vibrator.
The more I'm on "FB," however, the more I want to cyber-bitch slap my online "friends." I place "friends" in quotes because we all know how random most of our FB connections are. However, posting any bitch slaps directly ON Facebook would be to call out people I know. Or knew. Or met once at a bar. A sparsely identifying BLOG, however, is the perfect forum. In case I eventually make the rash decision to post a link to this tome on FB, I have changed the names of the offenders. So, take your fingers off the iPhone and listen up, bitches. If you see yourself in these rants, do a sister a favor and either shape up or start your own damn social networking site.
Chapter 1: Mommybook is for MOMMIES!
Listen, I have made a choice in my life, just like the young mothers of the world have made theirs. I am a career-party girl. I treasure my job and sparse free time as much as I treasure dancing in hotel windows in Vegas. Many stay-at-home moms, on the other hand, treasure their children and have copious nap times that trap them at home. Many of these ladies tend to overuse Facebook.
I am not going to diss these mommies for reaching out to adults while the little monsters are in their caves. I am going to diss the shit out of their overuse of the effing status update. Those of us with blackberries or iPhones in the adult world have all downloaded the Facebook application onto our PDAs, too. Any downtime without an influx of work emails means we are checking FB - usually status updates. Straight up, y'all: mommy postings are a fucking BUZZ KILL.
An acquaintance friend from high school named Jane took me through her son's 103 degree, unexplained fever as well as his entire teething process. Updates like "Sammy's fever broke at 2 a.m., thanks for all of the prayers and good wishes," and "Jane is about to buy a Snugglebutt Baby Carrier onsale at babies.com, does anyone want me to order them one?" made me shake an angry fist in the air. Another high school - acquaintance friend, we'll call her Angina, since this "friend" is Asian and I love RuPaul's Drag Race, took us through her infant's bout with constipation. The crowning update of this charming series went something like: "Charles finally pooped today! Thanks to everyone for all of the good tips and prayers."
Even though I would never read the responses to these little nuggets of mommy angst and joy, my friend Bean tells me that such posts get many heartfelt responses. Which brings me to my brilliant idea for the Facebook creators: make a Mommybook site! Please! Facebook users who sign up for this site would automatically have their mommy-talk filtered only to mommies and mommy-ish daddies.
If this remedy is technically impossible and/or discriminatory, I have a plea to all mommies out there: please think of the breadth and depth of your audience before you post about little Johnny's ear drums or his bowel movements. Send a group email to your FB mommy friends or think of a zany twist before pressing send. Example: "Jill is worried about her little angel - at what temp does a fever warrant a trip to the ER?" could be reworded to read: "Jill has one hot son - anyone want to use him as a space heater?" The question about temperature is clearly unecessary, as any douchewad can find that information on WebMD.
Thus far, the only solution I've figured out is to delete Mommybook offenders from my friend list. As I have stated, I am only comfortable being mean anonymously. The second a good friend goes all Mommytown, I am toast. I need another option. GET CREATIVE, MOMMIES!!
Chapter 2: Bragging is Douchey
My "friend" Lynn loves her job, works out all the time really early in the morning, is always traveling overseas, and has to talk about temperatures in farenheit and celsius so that all of her diverse, wordly friends can understand her. The typical post says something like"Lynn has worked out, called London, and ribbed her British VPs about the 73 farenheit/ 23 celsius Texas weather already and it's only 7 a.m.!! Shit like that makes me want to get a webcam just so I can hurl poisoned daggers through cyberspace and watch them land in Lynn's eyeballs.
I much prefer the understated way my friend Paul (that's his real name, only because I know he will love this) lets us know that his life is cooler than ours. Paul works for some hoddy toddy firm that looks for investment opportunities in up and coming third world locations. He is based in Singapore. The typical post for Paul is: "Just arrived in Hyderabad." For those of you who are landlocked in Minnesota, Kansas, or Texas and think that sounds like the name of a fancy water treatment plant (like moi), it's not. It's a super-hip city in India.
Understated posts when your life resembles Lifestyles of the Young, Rich, and Famous can be a good thing. Understated when you work in a cubicle in Frisco is a really really bad idea. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Chapter 3.
Chapter 3: No One Cares Unless it's Funny, Unusual or Interesting
Hopefully it's all three. If your post is none of the above, for God's sake DELETE IT before hitting send. Why would even your closest friends want to read an update like "Frank is working?" No shit, Frank. It's 2 p.m. on a Wednesday and you work for Dell. We all know you're working. And if we don't, we don't know you well enough to give a crap about anything you're doing, UNLESS it's Funny, Unusual, or Interesting. GET WITH THE PROGRAM FRANK!!
I have similar issues with those that post run of the mill observations and complaints. "Ally can't wait for Friday!" makes me want to take Fridays away from Ally altogether. This is especially annoying for your boss if you have made the egregious error of friending your boss. I have news for you, Ally, I didn't want to be FB friends in the first place. PLEASE do not add insult to injury by letting me know how much you daydream about the weekend. You HAVE A JOB. That's way more than a lot of my real friends have right now.
Similarly, weather-posters should all be banished to Siberia. That way, they can all sit around talking about the ice and snow while they freeze to death and put the rest of us out of our misery. Unless you're going to tell us truthfully that a nuclear hailstorm is coming, I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT IT. Updates like "Felicia wants the sun to come out" makes God send more rain. I promise.
Chapter 4: Friending Just Because You Recognize Someone's Name/Face HAS GOT TO STOP
When I first joined Facebook, I accepted pretty much everyone's friend requests. There were several, even way back then, that I was unsure of. "How do I know this girl?" I would ask myself. "I recognize the name. Is she from law school? I barely remember anyone from law school, so this was the obvious default.
Then I realized two things. Number 1: I am apparently more memorable to others than many of the people I have met in my lifetime are to me. I will admit this is somewhat flattering, but not enough to allow you people unfettered access to photos of me of me doing handstands in window boxes. These days, if I can't remember how I know you and/or have no interest in spying on you, you get the ignore. I'm not being mean, just honest. Thankfully, that coy little social networking site that we all love lets me do this rather painlessly. You might think one day, "hmmm, Cat never responded to my friend request. She must not check her friend requests very often." At least this is what I hope you think when I ignore your ass, if you even notice at all.
Which brings us to the Number 2 thing I realized about random friending: I believe that many people on facebook scour other "friends'" friend lists for anyone they recognize. Then, in a fit of frenzy, they friend request all people of whom they have even a slight memory. I also believe that many people friend others just to spy on someone they recognize. Usually this urge is brief and superficial: "so, Cat's still not married and apparently has some weird obsession with wigs." Done. Never to peruse my profile page again.
Aye, but there's the FB rub! These random "friends" are now linked to me via the news feed and the dreaded status update. Someone more technically-minded finally clued me in to the fact that you can filter people out of the news feed. I have not, however, figured out how to filter out annoying status updaters on my blackberry. Thus, I am accosted with the "Sally just got home from Bible Study and is about to bathe Jackson" posts from dumb dumb cunts that I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER. Guess what Sally! You just got a Delete Sandwich.
Chapter 5: When You Steal Other People's Thunder, God Gets Mad at You
My friend Hattie, who is one of the nine people left on earth who are not on FB, is having a baby. She made the mistake of telling FB original Kathy first. Kathy then status updates the universe with: "Kathy just found out that her college roommate is pregnant! So exciting!" You know what's not exciting, Kathy? The fact that you just took all of the thunder away from sweet Hattie, who is expecting her first child. Why don't you go steal her white picket fence while you're at it?
Kathy is actually a total sweetheart, she just wasn't thinking. People, we all must remember: the Facebook is on the interwebs! Everyone but Hattie and 8 other people are on the Facebook too! When my 95 year old great-uncle Grover signed up for Facebook the other day, we lost another holdout...
The more I'm on "FB," however, the more I want to cyber-bitch slap my online "friends." I place "friends" in quotes because we all know how random most of our FB connections are. However, posting any bitch slaps directly ON Facebook would be to call out people I know. Or knew. Or met once at a bar. A sparsely identifying BLOG, however, is the perfect forum. In case I eventually make the rash decision to post a link to this tome on FB, I have changed the names of the offenders. So, take your fingers off the iPhone and listen up, bitches. If you see yourself in these rants, do a sister a favor and either shape up or start your own damn social networking site.
Chapter 1: Mommybook is for MOMMIES!
Listen, I have made a choice in my life, just like the young mothers of the world have made theirs. I am a career-party girl. I treasure my job and sparse free time as much as I treasure dancing in hotel windows in Vegas. Many stay-at-home moms, on the other hand, treasure their children and have copious nap times that trap them at home. Many of these ladies tend to overuse Facebook.
I am not going to diss these mommies for reaching out to adults while the little monsters are in their caves. I am going to diss the shit out of their overuse of the effing status update. Those of us with blackberries or iPhones in the adult world have all downloaded the Facebook application onto our PDAs, too. Any downtime without an influx of work emails means we are checking FB - usually status updates. Straight up, y'all: mommy postings are a fucking BUZZ KILL.
An acquaintance friend from high school named Jane took me through her son's 103 degree, unexplained fever as well as his entire teething process. Updates like "Sammy's fever broke at 2 a.m., thanks for all of the prayers and good wishes," and "Jane is about to buy a Snugglebutt Baby Carrier onsale at babies.com, does anyone want me to order them one?" made me shake an angry fist in the air. Another high school - acquaintance friend, we'll call her Angina, since this "friend" is Asian and I love RuPaul's Drag Race, took us through her infant's bout with constipation. The crowning update of this charming series went something like: "Charles finally pooped today! Thanks to everyone for all of the good tips and prayers."
Even though I would never read the responses to these little nuggets of mommy angst and joy, my friend Bean tells me that such posts get many heartfelt responses. Which brings me to my brilliant idea for the Facebook creators: make a Mommybook site! Please! Facebook users who sign up for this site would automatically have their mommy-talk filtered only to mommies and mommy-ish daddies.
If this remedy is technically impossible and/or discriminatory, I have a plea to all mommies out there: please think of the breadth and depth of your audience before you post about little Johnny's ear drums or his bowel movements. Send a group email to your FB mommy friends or think of a zany twist before pressing send. Example: "Jill is worried about her little angel - at what temp does a fever warrant a trip to the ER?" could be reworded to read: "Jill has one hot son - anyone want to use him as a space heater?" The question about temperature is clearly unecessary, as any douchewad can find that information on WebMD.
Thus far, the only solution I've figured out is to delete Mommybook offenders from my friend list. As I have stated, I am only comfortable being mean anonymously. The second a good friend goes all Mommytown, I am toast. I need another option. GET CREATIVE, MOMMIES!!
Chapter 2: Bragging is Douchey
My "friend" Lynn loves her job, works out all the time really early in the morning, is always traveling overseas, and has to talk about temperatures in farenheit and celsius so that all of her diverse, wordly friends can understand her. The typical post says something like"Lynn has worked out, called London, and ribbed her British VPs about the 73 farenheit/ 23 celsius Texas weather already and it's only 7 a.m.!! Shit like that makes me want to get a webcam just so I can hurl poisoned daggers through cyberspace and watch them land in Lynn's eyeballs.
I much prefer the understated way my friend Paul (that's his real name, only because I know he will love this) lets us know that his life is cooler than ours. Paul works for some hoddy toddy firm that looks for investment opportunities in up and coming third world locations. He is based in Singapore. The typical post for Paul is: "Just arrived in Hyderabad." For those of you who are landlocked in Minnesota, Kansas, or Texas and think that sounds like the name of a fancy water treatment plant (like moi), it's not. It's a super-hip city in India.
Understated posts when your life resembles Lifestyles of the Young, Rich, and Famous can be a good thing. Understated when you work in a cubicle in Frisco is a really really bad idea. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Chapter 3.
Chapter 3: No One Cares Unless it's Funny, Unusual or Interesting
Hopefully it's all three. If your post is none of the above, for God's sake DELETE IT before hitting send. Why would even your closest friends want to read an update like "Frank is working?" No shit, Frank. It's 2 p.m. on a Wednesday and you work for Dell. We all know you're working. And if we don't, we don't know you well enough to give a crap about anything you're doing, UNLESS it's Funny, Unusual, or Interesting. GET WITH THE PROGRAM FRANK!!
I have similar issues with those that post run of the mill observations and complaints. "Ally can't wait for Friday!" makes me want to take Fridays away from Ally altogether. This is especially annoying for your boss if you have made the egregious error of friending your boss. I have news for you, Ally, I didn't want to be FB friends in the first place. PLEASE do not add insult to injury by letting me know how much you daydream about the weekend. You HAVE A JOB. That's way more than a lot of my real friends have right now.
Similarly, weather-posters should all be banished to Siberia. That way, they can all sit around talking about the ice and snow while they freeze to death and put the rest of us out of our misery. Unless you're going to tell us truthfully that a nuclear hailstorm is coming, I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT IT. Updates like "Felicia wants the sun to come out" makes God send more rain. I promise.
Chapter 4: Friending Just Because You Recognize Someone's Name/Face HAS GOT TO STOP
When I first joined Facebook, I accepted pretty much everyone's friend requests. There were several, even way back then, that I was unsure of. "How do I know this girl?" I would ask myself. "I recognize the name. Is she from law school? I barely remember anyone from law school, so this was the obvious default.
Then I realized two things. Number 1: I am apparently more memorable to others than many of the people I have met in my lifetime are to me. I will admit this is somewhat flattering, but not enough to allow you people unfettered access to photos of me of me doing handstands in window boxes. These days, if I can't remember how I know you and/or have no interest in spying on you, you get the ignore. I'm not being mean, just honest. Thankfully, that coy little social networking site that we all love lets me do this rather painlessly. You might think one day, "hmmm, Cat never responded to my friend request. She must not check her friend requests very often." At least this is what I hope you think when I ignore your ass, if you even notice at all.
Which brings us to the Number 2 thing I realized about random friending: I believe that many people on facebook scour other "friends'" friend lists for anyone they recognize. Then, in a fit of frenzy, they friend request all people of whom they have even a slight memory. I also believe that many people friend others just to spy on someone they recognize. Usually this urge is brief and superficial: "so, Cat's still not married and apparently has some weird obsession with wigs." Done. Never to peruse my profile page again.
Aye, but there's the FB rub! These random "friends" are now linked to me via the news feed and the dreaded status update. Someone more technically-minded finally clued me in to the fact that you can filter people out of the news feed. I have not, however, figured out how to filter out annoying status updaters on my blackberry. Thus, I am accosted with the "Sally just got home from Bible Study and is about to bathe Jackson" posts from dumb dumb cunts that I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER. Guess what Sally! You just got a Delete Sandwich.
Chapter 5: When You Steal Other People's Thunder, God Gets Mad at You
My friend Hattie, who is one of the nine people left on earth who are not on FB, is having a baby. She made the mistake of telling FB original Kathy first. Kathy then status updates the universe with: "Kathy just found out that her college roommate is pregnant! So exciting!" You know what's not exciting, Kathy? The fact that you just took all of the thunder away from sweet Hattie, who is expecting her first child. Why don't you go steal her white picket fence while you're at it?
Kathy is actually a total sweetheart, she just wasn't thinking. People, we all must remember: the Facebook is on the interwebs! Everyone but Hattie and 8 other people are on the Facebook too! When my 95 year old great-uncle Grover signed up for Facebook the other day, we lost another holdout...
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