JMD031 |
1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Welcome back rant…what descriptive word am I on now? What the (expletive deleted) ever, welcome back. This rant is about Co-workers…hold the (expletive deleted) on. Let’s see, I’ve ranted about work, I’ve ranted about bosses…sure why the (expletive deleted) not, I’ll rant about Co-workers. What’s not to dislike about Co-workers. These (expletive deleted) busy-bodies are always in your business and if you don’t believe me, try doing the following: Go to work, walk up to a co-worker, simply say the phrase “Do you want to know what I did this weekend?” and watch as your co-worker becomes intrigued into your hum-drum life. If they do not do this then (expletive deleted) them for ruining my predictions of their obviously annoying behaviors. See how infuriating these people are? Oh, and God forbid you don’t act mildly interested in their (expletive deleted) lives. Do I want to hear about how you went to some place I don’t give a (expletive deleted) about and how your precocious little urchin did something that was “sooo cute”? No, I (expletive deleted) do not. But I will because I don’t want to be “that (expletive deleted) guy”. You know that guy. He’s the guy no one talks to and everyone talks about behind his back. Don’t be that guy. What? Are you seriously going to give me grief for using the (expletive deleted) word guy and call it (expletive deleted) sexist? FINE! Don’t be that person. Are you (expletive deleted) happy? Does it amuse you how I dance for you like a (expletive deleted) puppet? Does it? Well it shouldn’t because that would makes you a terrible person. And since I don’t like to be around terrible people, this rant is over.
Tune in next time when I will be ranting about…Cow orcers? Son of a (expletive deleted). Wait…you didn’t cover up that whole phrase. People can (expletive deleted) figure out what the (expletive deleted) I was going to say. You…
Orthos |
I'm not sure if I'm a "that guy". I almost never talk to my coworkers, but I haven't (yet) caught them talking about me behind my back. Granted, I spend most of my workday in a back-corner office with headphones on, and don't socialize in the kitchen/halls/elevator/other office gathering locations.
I'm pretty openly a single, uninterested-in-dating, childless, asocial nerd though, so I imagine there's not much they think they can get out of me.
SnowJade |
On some level there's a part of me that wants to go to a con one day. The other part of course loathes the idea of being crammed in with so many people and the inevitable con crud to follow.
Thank you. I've been trying to put words to that feeling for years now.
JMD031, have you treated The DaVinci Code to a rant yet? I ask because I discovered a copy hiding in my library the other day and felt obliged to drop-kick it across the room. People who pass pseudoscholarship off as a topic for a thriller really (expletive deleted) me off.
Limeylongears |
JMD031, have you treated The DaVinci Code to a rant yet? I ask because I discovered a copy hiding in my library the other day and felt obliged to drop-kick it across the room. People who pass pseudoscholarship off as a topic for a thriller really (expletive deleted) me off.
Another vote for a DaVinci code-inspired rant here!
SnowJade, you can post your own rants on the thread if you feel the urge. JMD031 awards rant points to contributions he approves of, too.
JMD031 |
2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Welcome back rant fans! We are almost to the end of the list! This rant is about…Cow Orcers…you gotta be (expletive deleted) (expletive deleted) me? *Sigh* Ok, here goes. What the (expletive deleted) is a Cow Orcer? Is it some kind of cow that orcs things or some kind of Half-Cow Orc who for some reason has a spelling problem? No, it is an attempt to make a pun. I’m guessing this is due to my previous rant about Co-Workers. Ha, ha, ha…very (expletive deleted) funny. How about instead you (expletive deleted) go take a (expletive deleted) curling iron and stick it up your (expletive deleted) and then turn it on. I heard about this this weekend. A woman found out her husband was cheating on her, so she shoved a curling iron up the dude’s (expletive deleted) while he was sleeping and then turned it on. Cooked him from the inside out. True story…and then I found five dollars. Every story is better when you add the phrase “and then I found five dollars” at the end. By the way, in case you haven’t (expletive deleted) figured it out yet, but I have decided to just randomly say various things that are coming into my mind. I might as well because what the (expletive deleted) could I say about (expletive deleted) Cow Orcers that I haven’t already said. Oh wait, I just came up with another one…THEY DON’T (expletive deleted) EXIST!!!! Yeah, take that mysterious person who suggested this topic. I’m really showing you. I guess. What the (expletive deleted) ever. You think you are so clever? You try coming up with a better rant about Cow Orcers. I (expletive deleted) dare you. I (expletive deleted) double dog dare you…with a cherry on top. Yeah, now you are in a pickle. Good luck with your rant, Ranty McRantpants. And on that note, this rant is (expletive deleted) over.
Join me next time when I rant about…Produce bags. Since this will be the last rant for the list and it was suggested by Mrs. JMD031, I won’t say any (expletive deleted) expletive deleteds…(expletive deleted)!
JMD031 |
Welcome back rant fanatics. I’m thinking I’m going to stick with that because if you are still reading these I don’t think there is any other name for you. Anyways, this rant is about Produce bags. You know which ones I’m talking about, those ones at the grocery store that are such a (expletive deleted) pain in the (expletive deleted) to open. Like your 5 year old could do it and suffocate themselves on the bag, but you’ll spend 20 minutes trying to open the (expletive deleted) bag and look like a (expletive deleted) idiot doing so. It’s like those (expletive deleted) “child-proof” caps on medicine bottles, but that is a rant for another time. Another annoying thing about these (expletive deleted) bags is the fact that you can never find them when you need them. Next time you are in the produce section try finding a produce bag for your fruits and/or vegetables. Seriously, try it. It’s like trying to find a (expletive deleted) needle in a haystack. You’ll be by the tomatoes and find a nice couple of ripe ones and think “ok, now I just need one of those produce bags to put these in” and then you’ll spend the next (expletive deleted) 10 minutes trying to find the stupid dispenser. Then when you find the dispenser, you have your hands full so now you have to risk dropping your tomatoes and having them get squished or worse. Then when you finally empty your hands, you can’t (expletive deleted) get the (expletive deleted) bag out of the dispenser because you can’t find the (expletive deleted) end. As I’m looking over this rant, I’m realizing that I’m a lot more angrier about (expletive deleted) produce bags than I originally thought I would be. How wonderful for you all of you readers. Ah (expletive deleted), I’ve ran out of steam for this rant when I commented about how much steam I had. Well that will (expletive deleted) show me. Anyways, rant over.
Tune in next time when I rant about… well I’m not really sure because the list is complete. I did hear something about The DaVinci Code earlier but I’ll be (expletive deleted) if I know anything about that.