Ruminations
I have rollover minutes from last month? Great...I'll just store them with my other useful things, next to my middle name and my blockbuster card.
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I don't know why I tense up whenever I see police dogs. I haven't carried drugs on me since the last time I played Grand Theft Auto.
I wish more people would declare thumb wars these days. Surely all this texting has prepared my thumb muscles for battle.
Why is a butterfly social? Last time I saw a butterfly, it fluttered in my line of vision for .5 seconds, threw my entire world off kilter, and was never to be seen again.
If you don't care what kind of engagement ring you get, you shouldn't be allowed to receive a huge mother rock that looks like it's pregnant with 5 diamond babies.
Hardest task of the week: feigning gratitude for receiving a wooden duck souvenir from a coworker. “Wow thanks, this duck is…well, it’s just delightful. Ducks are great, really fantastic. It’s carved so…duck-like. Really, quite a duck. I love ducks."
I hate being the awkward third wheel on an email chain with two other people who are clearly just talking to each other. Do I remind them that I'm here or just watch in like a creepy nanny cam?
It took me about 15 years to learn that I lived on a cul-de-sac, not a colder sack. It then took me about 15 seconds to decide to just call it "that dead end with a circle" instead.
It’s a shame you’ve caught a bad cold, dentist. Thanks for not rescheduling so you can breathe hot, infected air in my face and stick your contagious fingers in my mouth.
Rent is due on the 1st of the month, but I have until the 10th to pay without any late fees? Farewell leasing office…we shall meet again on the 10th.
If you send me a screenshot, the only thing I care to look at is what's currently open on your toolbar.
There's no way to regain any sort of professional credibility after your boss catches you eating a Fruit by the Foot.
My phone just accidentally pocket-dialed the number 007. I know it means nothing, yet I can't help but feel awesome.
If you say 'bless-shoe', please don't bless me at all.
So toll booth guy…you want me to wait here while you call EZpass to check on the account of the fucker in front of me with a low balance? Or it’s 2 points on my license to back up, change lanes, and be on my merry way? Points for the win. Bye.
Sometimes, instead of calling or emailing my friends to keep in touch, I just find a facebook picture that they're all tagged in and leave a complimentary comment. Everyone gets alerted and I am superfriend. Check and check.
No, large football-playerish guy. I'm not following you into the building because you're cute. I'm simply riding in on your revolving door swing so I don't have to slam my body against that heavy bitch to make it move. So work those muscles, turn around, and keep it movin' killer.
Enough with the small talk at the liquor store, cashier man. No, I'm not "celebrating" anything...it's just fucking Thursday night ok? Thanks for the judgment, and I bid you adieu until tomorrow.
Turn left GPS? You sure? Because that looks like a grassy knoll to me. Ohhh 300 more feet, got it. That's helpful, because I definitely measure things in feet while driving. Recalculating? Alright cut the shit GPS...it's time to meet your new arch nemesis. Step up to the plate, map in my trunk that Mom makes me carry.
Getting my first set of business cards has made me ruler of the world of awesome. You need my email? Here, take two. Cute guy at the bar? Pick a card, any card. Enter to win a free lunch at the deli? Hell yes! Here's twelve for you, little plastic jar.
You want to see my ID for the debit card purchase? To make sure it’s really mine even after I entered my pin? Ok cashier girl- you got me. I steal debit cards and then buy dental floss and CVS brand toilet paper on sale. It’s what I do.
I don’t eat pizza crust…not because it’s the worst part, but because I cannot stomach the fact that a small army of pizza place workers have touched that part since it left the oven.
I feel like such a badass whenever I rip up a bill in the mail that I already paid online. You want some more, Cablevision? Send me an email reminder too. I'll delete that AND empty my trash folder. What now, bitch?
Ice… you sir, are a motherfucker. Today, not only have you managed to convince onlookers that I appeared to intentionally be doing ‘the freddy’ on the sidewalk at 7am, but you also created an arctic tundra version of Slip-n-Slide for my innocent puppy. Now give me back my pride before I return with salt and a sledgehammer and crush you into puddled dust. You win this time…Icy McTrickster.
If I were an Obama daughter, my first order of business would be to have my dad enforce a law for Fun Dip manufacturers that orders them to package only the delicious white sticks…in bulk. Stat.
Fuck you, rich friend who just asked me exactly what a student loan is. Oh by the way, I’ll be charging my lunch on your dad's credit card today.
Spacebar placement means everything. Case in point: Accidentally replying to an email request from my boss with, “Sure, you go tit!"
Last night I became pretty aware that I'm about to lose touch with my very technologically-inept best friend when I asked her if she got my email and she replied with, "Deb, you know I never check to see if people mail me any packages on the worldwide web.”
A pain worse than any morning hangover: waking up to realize you accidentally fell asleep with that Crest Whitestrip on for 8 hours.
Thanks for the homemade Christmas cookies, but I cannot live with the fear of not knowing whether or not you actually washed your hands before you made them. So Merry Christmas, garbage.
Whenever I buy a bar of soap with a cool, intriguing name like 'clean rain' or 'ocean mist', without fail, I will smell like a lumberjack carrying a freshly cut pine tree.
No, stupid co-worker, my pop-tart isn’t raw, it’s just not toasted. Just because it’s more delicious than your breakfast, doesn’t mean you need to compare it to a slab of uncooked beef, bitter Betty.
Who is the genius at Verizon who decided a good number to contact them directly is 611? Really, anything on the opposite site of the key pad and not almost identical to 911 would have been fantastic. I’m pretty sure the 911 emergency operators are going to have me arrested if I accidentally call them one more time to dispute my cell phone bill.
I lack the ability to run on a treadmill while simultaneously watching football. If a player makes a quick move to the right or left to avoid a tackle, so do I. But he gets a first-down and I just trip and fall off the treadmill.
It’s almost the end of the year. If you tell me you have 20 unused vacation days that do not rollover and you will not get paid for, I do not look at you as a role model for perfect attendance and work ethic, but rather, a freak of nature whose intelligence should be seriously questioned and immediately tested.
Nothing has made me more frightened for the future of today’s youth than overhearing a mother warn her son that if he stuck his pen in an outlet, he would be executed.
Ohhh my poor little money-grubbing alma mater…even though I had good times in college, I will never donate to you. But keep trying, you’re adorable.
I tried mango salsa at a restaurant the other night and was surprised to find that it is tastefully delicious. But if you dare me to eat a mango and an onion together in any other form, I’ll take the physical challenge.
After moving this weekend and having the Internet/cable company try to reschedule my appointment, I found it's best to wait until after mom leaves before offering the cable guy my first born, sexual favors, and all of my vital organs.
What I’d really give thanks for is if my coworkers would stop asking what my Thanksgiving plans are so I’m not forced to reciprocate the question and fake enthusiasm while listening to the details about an upcoming trip to cousin Sue’s house. Let’s be honest here…we won’t be at work and that’s all that really matters.
I have no idea how to possibly argue my electric bill. "Um no...I only used 5000 kilowatts, not 5002." Why even send a bill? Let's just open my wallet and you take what you need, electric company.
The most important thing I plan to do if I'm rich one day is hire a person whose only job is to break in my new shoes for me.
Spending a disgusting amount of money celebrating all of my friends’ weddings and new babies throughout the years has me seriously looking into becoming a polygamist and experimenting with a wide variety of fertility drugs, solely for revenge. Take that bitches.
I don’t believe there’s any stronger feeling of accomplishment than parking illegally and not getting a ticket. Me: 1, The Law: 0
Hey printer- stop falling asleep every 5 minutes. I'm sick of waiting for you to warm up. And if I have to stay awake at work, then so do you.
Why do pregnant women feel the need to keep their baby names a secret from their non-pregnant friends, as if we might steal the name? Reminder...it's physically impossible for us to beat you to the punch.
What’s more pathetic than losing your atm card while sober and food shopping? Lying to the bank teller about your drunken night out to make it seem like your life is that much cooler than it actually is.
I have never been able to use a tube of super glue more than once before it dries up and becomes super ‘cement’.
If I see you driving your new luxury car with a big red bow hanging from the rear view mirror, there's a very thin line between how much I hate you and how much I actually want to be you.
Every single time I'm watching an active rental 'On Demand', I have to take a moment and remind myself of the definitions of 'restart' and 'resume' before starting a whole movie over and feeling the urge to kick the shit out of my cable box.
I have never used, rinsed and then reused a paper towel sheet ever. Yea right, Bounty.
If I ever sign up for an online contest and do not check the little box at the bottom asking if I’d like to receive email/mobile updates in the future, I sense that I will automatically be disqualified and placed in the ‘loser’ pile.
Sitting in my office waiting for my pants to dry from the rain makes me yearn for the day when ponchos become socially acceptable.
Yesterday I inadvertently revealed my small-town, farm-like origin when my boss asked how long I thought we’d be waiting for the market to turn around and I replied with the phrase ‘until the cows come home’.
Unless you work on commission at a retail store, I can place a pretty safe bet that when I ask if you have another size in the back, the answer will always be no.
Wearing fishnet stockings on Halloween to dress up as a hooker…fine. Wearing fishnet stockings to work…not fine, and you actually are a hooker.
I have very little faith that the 5 foot nothing, tiny, tan, blonde girl texting on her cell phone in the lifeguard chair is actually capable of guarding my life.
There’s about a 3-second window of time for you to move your foot after someone accidentally steps on it under the table. Somehow, I always seem to miss this window and then find myself stuck in a situation where I’m remaining completely still and pretending that I actually am the table leg.
Why is a banana peel the token ‘slippery object’? I’d like to officially pass on the title to the freshly mopped traction-less tile in the lobby of my office that succeeds in making me look like a drunken fool every morning at 8am.
Dear Website, I will always "Skip the Intro". Just save me the time, save yourself the money, and navigate me to the home page immediately.
Being forced to look at your shutterfly album with 500+ vacation pictures is equivalent to telling me about your dream from last night. I wasn’t there, really don’t care, and find it extremely difficult to maintain enthusiasm and/or interest without thinking of an immediate escape tactic.
A friend of mine recently had her foot run over by a cab in NYC and received $10,000 for it. I realized I may need to straighten out my priorities now that every time I wait at a crosswalk, I close my eyes, stick my foot out a bit too far, and hope for the best.
If I choose to unsubscribe from a mailing list and the company's website requires me to send an email, comment on my reasoning behind such a choice, or anything other than a simple ‘click and submit’, I will most likely get frustrated, close the browser, and remain subscribed for life.
Anytime I say that I don’t like flowers, it really just means I never get them. But I’m not bitter.
I’ll consider myself an adult on the day that I willingly choose to cut out the first slice of an Entenmann’s crumb cake anywhere but right smack in the middle.
I will continue to mail you a birthday card every year even if you don’t reciprocate, only to remind you that I am thoughtful, and you my friend are a douche.
Memo to the man next to me on the subway: If you continue to puncture me in the ribs with your elbow upon every newspaper page turn, I will puncture a hole right through your newspaper into your manhood. Love, Me at 7 am.
Dear Skinny Jeans: We hate you and your trendy presence. Sincerely, Girls with asses who will never fit into you.
One of my favorite things to do at work is to turn on the ‘Do Not Disturb’ function on my phone and strategically place some papers and manila folders on and around the phone, just in case I need something to blame for accidentally hitting the button while I was deeply immersed in paperwork….or ruminations.
Don't expect me to visit for a weekend if your shower fails to contain an alternative product to cleanse with besides your old sliver of a soap bar.
Attention creepy man in my building: 1 person per slot in the revolving door. Thanks, freaked out girl shoved in front of you having a panic attack.
There's nothing that makes me love New York City more than the faint smell of urine on the subway at 7am.
I feel like buying fruit is like a race against time. When it actually becomes ripe enough to eat, I’d have to average about 3 bananas/pears/plums per day before everything starts to rot at once. Eventually I have to throw it all out and then I feel guilty for wasting money and for the people dying of hunger in Somalia. I can’t handle the pressure…I’m sticking with pop-tarts.
I realized that living with a boy has a strong impact on my vocabulary and terminology when a coworker pointed out that the back of my skirt was ripped and I immediately replied with “Oh man…that sucks a big fat one.”
I just had the same chain of reactions to being told that I need a root canal as I did when I learned that Sarah Palin could possibly become our president one day: shock, sadness and complete fear.
Friends don't tag friends in hideous facebook pictures. If I actually wanted people to see that candid of me at a bad angle with 7 chins, I'd tag myself.
Dear Old Men in my Yoga Class: Why in all of your years of life have you not yet discovered boxer briefs? There is nothing zen-like about causing me to fall out of my yoga pose due to old balls distraction.
Halloween is my favorite time of year because it's the only time I can buy a super-sized bag of chocolate and not feel judgment from the cashiers.
Today at work, I realized I’ve reached my peak level of immaturity and boredom when I showed my controller that I can spell my name upside-down on her calculator.
Why doesn’t facebook just switch to the ‘new facebook’ already instead of alerting me every day that ‘the new facebook will soon be the ONLY facebook’… Am I the only one who feels awkwardly threatened by a social networking site?
Dear Sarah Palin, Get off the cover of my US Weekly and OK Magazines and never pull a stunt like this again. You've got nothing on Britney bitch.
Everytime I have to spell a word over the phone using 'as in' examples, I will undoubtedly draw a blank and sound like a complete idiot. Today I had to spell my boss's last name to an attorney and said "Yes that's G as in...(10 second lapse)..ummm...Goonies"
Dear Mom, Even though I graduated from college, have a full-time job and an apartment, I will continue to mooch off of your surplus Costco supply of toilet paper, soap, paper towels, and boxes of tissues whenever I visit you at home.
There's nothing more awkward than falling asleep on the train and waking up to see the person across the aisle staring directly at you.
I've always wondered exactly what intrigues a person to want to become a proctologist. One day he/she just decides 'that's it, proctology is my calling in life'? Well, fyi my friends...you can probably make more money and deal with just as many assholes in the corporate world.
Starting a sentence with 'No offense, but..." pretty much implies that there's about a 99% chance you're going to offend me. So thanks for the pseudo-apology before the insult.
Sometimes I think the Pepto-Bismol jingle was written solely to describe the way I feel each time I force myself to log-on to my bank account and view my current balance.
Why does the cashier always run out of change the only time I ever pay cash? Then I feel uncomfortably cheap as the 2 of us wait for the manager to come with more pennies...meanwhile I didn't even want the 4 cents. I wanted the receipt from my starbucks to expense it at work..but that's smart, not cheap.
If you feel comfortable sitting in my booth with me to tell me about the specials for the evening, then I feel comfortable enough cutting your tip in half.
Either I get bored way too easily on flights, OR SkyMall is in fact the most fascinating magazine ever published.
The college 'dining hall meal plan swipe-card' is not truly appreciated until you graduate from college, get an entry-level job, and actually have to pay $7.95 out of your own wallet for the grilled cheese and fries made by the ex-con behind the counter in the building cafeteria.
I'm completely petrified of pouring bleach or possibly getting it anywhere near my colored clothing, but putting straight shots of vodka into my body all night doesn't faze me in the least.
Ringback tones bother the shit out of me. Most of the time I get caught up in the catchy tune, start singing along and forget who I'm calling and what I'm doing altogether. What if the song keeps playing and the person is on the other line? My typical '4-ring max' before hang-up can't work because I have no clue how many times the phone rang...I'm too busy singing 'brown-eyed girl'. I appreciate the initiative, but save the $2.99 and buy me a shot...it will entertain me a whole lot more.
Ever find yourself laughing out loud at a tv show only when you're watching with other people who are actually laughing? Alone, you probably wouldn't have lol'ed but the laughter of others peer-pressured you and suddenly that episode of 'Everybody Loves Raymond' you've already seen 14 times is now the best one ever.
Soap companies, I challenge you. Isn't it time that you create a friggin antibacterial hand sanitizer that can actually kill that remaining 0.01% of germs?
I always try to avoid purchasing that shirt that comes with the extra button and string attached in the little pouch. It's basically a disclaimer from the manufacturer admitting that the shirt was in fact made by a 6 year old boy in a third world country, they cannot guarantee that it won't fall apart as soon as you wash it, and little Juan didn't get his dinner that night to pay for that button. Also...I don't like to sew.
If you can't bother to flip your pictures vertically before distributing an online photo album, then I can't be bothered to look at your pictures at all.
The next online networking site should be hosted through the DMV. All drivers are automatically enrolled through vehicle registration and default pictures are license plates. This way, you can tell Q24EVA that she was driving way too fucking slow on the Cross Bronx today and unless she drops 30 pounds and tweezes her eyebrows, she has no right to actually use that license plate....eva.
People who suck: My teacher friends who don't understand that I (corporate sucker) am not off for the summer and can't pick up my cell mid-day to listen to their stories while they sit beach-side and drink coronas. F them- at least I am getting paid at work to ruminate about how much they suck.
Don't give me a 'we' answer for a 'you' question. Example...Question "What are you doing tonight?" Answer "We aren't doing anything." Unless you're a siamese twin, it's unacceptable (and nauseating).
If I'm texting you back and forth a couple of times, don't call me. I'm texting you so I don't have to talk to you. But you know I'm here because I just texted you and now I feel forced to answer OR hit 'ignore' and text back with the obligatory 'sorry bad service' line. Either way, you've managed to annoy me.
Am I the only one who assumes I will die before the day that all of my student loans are actually paid off?
If you pronounce 'espresso' like 'eXpresso', don't talk to me- ever.
Just because I can fit into a seat on the train and have a little wiggle-room doesn't mean that's a green light for the large obese man to squeeze in next to me, giving me the pleasure of feeling his thighs jiggle all the way to NYC every morning. gross.
Recently, I've become obsessed with 100-calorie packs as my daytime snacks at work. This morning as I ate my mini cookies,I realized whoever came up with this idea is a genius!! I have boxes of these packs in my 'food pantry' meanwhile all I need to do is buy a regular package of cookies and only take 2 a day in a sandwich bag bc that's about what the serving size is anyway. So really, they should be called people-who-have-no-self-control-and-are-tricked-by-these-mini-packs packs. like me :-/
I can't stand when people say 'irregardless' and don't realize they've just negated their statement altogether.
Dog breeders need to start re-thinking these 'clever' names they come up with so that we can all avoid this situation I faced at the dog park the other day:
Dog Guy: What kind of dog is yours?
Me: Peke-a-poo...Pekingnese and Poodle
Dog Guy (straight face, no smile cracked at all): Oh, mine's a Cock-a-poo, but he looks more like a Cocker Spaniel than a Poodle. It's like he got too much cock and not enough poo.
I hate when tivo catches up with live tv and I have to watch commercials like an animal.
Why do people sign emails with names or initials that you've never heard of, nor refer to these people by? My friend Erin signs all of her emails "E", Jen signs them "Jay", and my mom's emails all come in with her full and last name. WTF is this?? Erin, I've never called you 'E', Jen- I've never called you "Jay" and Mom, that's your name goddammit- it's just Mom! If nicknames/shortened-versions of names are trying to be implemented, I would like notice first and then we'll talk about whether or not you're 'initial worthy' for future reference.
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