I am refusing to whine about anything that might actually garner some sympathy.
I’m about to explode from the built-up pressure.
Thus.
Yeah, verily, I am going to whine about things there is nothing I, or seemingly anyone, can do anything about. In no particular order:
1. What is it with coffee pots? It doesn’t matter if I buy the $10 one at Kmart or the $100 one at Macy’s, they all include a carafe from which it is impossible to pour a cup of coffee without dribbling. Is the proper design of a glass (or stainless steel) receptacle for hot fluids so complicated? Tea kettle manufacturers having been doing it for years. Perhaps the two industries should talk.
2. For crying out loud, people, it’s rude (RUDE I tell you) to go through the Taco Bell drive through at 12:00 p.m. and order $57.63 worth of tacos (17 crunchy, two no sour cream, three extra tomatoes, no lettuce on two of those, add guacamole to 5 substituting refried beens for beef on one, 11 soft chicken tacos…) If you’re ordering for more than two people (or eat more than two people can be expected to eat), get out of your car and go inside.
3. Marshall students? Trust me on this one. You will not immediately drop dead, lose cell phone reception, or be forced to wear sweatpants from the Dollar General if you cross Third Avenue in an actual crosswalk. My insurance rates are high enough – I don’t need your trendy-jean- clad ass under my bumper.
4. Now we all know that there is an obesity epidemic in this country. We also all know that there will always be folks who insist on stopping in the middle of the aisle at the grocery store to respond to a critically important phone call (OMG you saw him with who?) Can we petition Kroger to make the aisles wider? They’ve made the buggies bigger (presumably to make it easier to fit all the groceries it takes to maintain obesity), but apparently the engineers were trapped behind the car in No. 3 above when they had the meeting about aisle width. Between extra-wide buggies, pushed by extra-wide people who can’t hear because they’re talking on the cell phone, I’m tired of gridlock in the cereal aisle. (Don’t get me started on $6 boxes of cereal.)
5. Why does a 34A have to pay the same price as a 40D for mammary torture devices? The inverse of which is why do clothing manufacturers charge $10 more for a tall size that is 3” longer but don’t charge $10 less for petite sizes that are 3” shorter?
6. People who call me and start off with, “Who is this?”
7. Men who think I’m going to strip, shout Hot Damn, and offer to bear their children upon learning they have (or intend to have or used to have) a motorcycle.
8. Retail goods such as CDs, DVDs, batteries, mascara, etc. safety sealed for my protection (i.e. clam-shell packaging).
9. Cheap junk that won’t work even when it’s brand new that my credit card offers me as a reward (if I pay shipping and handling). Even worse, they attach the paper offering this crap to the envelope I need to use to mail my payment WHICH if I try to tear off renders the envelope unusable.
10. Those new fangled shampoo bottles. The spout thing opens and closes just fine, but if you want to take the whole cap off in order to put water into the mostly empty bottle and swish it around so you can get the last drop of shampoo out during those bathing emergencies when you realize you’re (mostly) out of shampoo and can’t because the cap is snapped onto the bottle much in the same way that laptop parts are snapped together.
So what are you whining about?
W. Va. Fur and Root 
Shopping carts…our shopping carts at the Stop and Shop are now equipped with big, high-impact plastic cars that the kids can sit in while Mom and Pop grocery-shop. Not only does this make the cart the size of a mini-Cooper, but they now drive like one so that it is regular bumper-cars in every narrow aisle of the store.. The kids love it of course, but parents and us un-attached folk who get legs and heels banged up are thoroughly disgusted.
We have those here too. I’ve blocked them out of mind – the rage is too intense to allow my thoughts to explore the phenomenon.
That’s a shame. The car carts at the Stop & Rob near the folks-in-law (NJ) are actually no bigger than a normal cart. The kid seats with steering wheels are up high, right by the parent. The basket is much smaller, more like those mini carts at Whole Foods. I really like it. The massive car carts are really hard to steer and the kids climb out if you don’t drive like a drunken slalom skier.
I was once at a Meijer with video carts. You could lock the kids into the car cart. There were air holes on top. And videos of horrible things played. Dora. Oh, god. But it worked! Until it timed out in the checkout line. Then I had to figure out the sliding lock to remove kiddo.
People who talk on their cell phones in public restrooms. Makes me wanna flush more than once (but I don’t because that’s a waste of water).
Also your #6. And #4.
I’m sitting at lunch today enjoying a four-way conversation when the instigator of the conversation whips out her cell phone and makes a phone call. No “excuse me.” No. “Damn, I’m sorry, gotta call I’ve got to make.” In mid-sentence, she stops, leans over, pulls the phone out of her purse, punches in numbers and starts talking. Even more amazing, I was the only person at the table who acted as if such behavior could only be explained by a dire emergency. My questions of “Everything ok?” were met with blank looks. “Why would you think something was wrong?” Um, cuz, if not that was incredibly rude.
.
?
I’m taking the motorcycle back to the dealer.
.
I admit that possession of a’57 Chevy would get my attention. A 30s gangster coupe would make me swoon.
.
“Swoon.”
[writes this down]
.
#8: Please remind me not to run with those scissors. (hmm, there is no Z in scissors)
I’ve been know to ask them to open the packaging in the store. After repeating the request several times, they’ll usually do it if only to get the crazy woman out of the store.
Re #7: gray-headed people wearing leathers and tight jeans that show more of their back end than I want to see riding two abreast on motorcycles, 10 miles under the speed limit.
My other pet peeves:
“click here” to enter a website. I just did that–that’s how I got to their page. Why do I need to click again?
Answering every personal question except ‘will you give us your first-born son” when I call about my cell phone bill. It’s not a national security threat.
Filling out an online grant application only to find I can’t save the application; all is lost if I don’t complete it on-the-spot.
Having a pleasant conversation with a neighbor and then suddenly be faced with “you need to come to church with us.” Uh, no.
You really got me started. I better stop before I get angry and tell the next telemarketer how I really feel when they ask.
The “click here” thing? Here’s my theory. Like so many web design folks, they’ve gotten roped into using Dreamweaver. This product makes the simplest task a nightmare. After fighting with the software for several hours, I will find that I’ve published some frightenly un-user-friendly webpages with some really dumb navigation. It’s that or “page not found” errors. Both provoke martinis, but the former at least allows the user to eventually get somewhere.
I f’ing hate whiners. Can’t stand it. But that said, I have been known to whine a lot. I used to whine about all those stupid dumb shit things that are nothing but stupid dumb shit people doing stupid dumb shit things. “Shit” doesn’t “happen;” dumb shit people do things.
Sometimes now I whine about how fucked up stupid our society is. We don’t have a chance of surviving as we are. It’s bound to crumble. Why does humanity have to repeat the same stupid dumb fuck mistakes over and over?
I have a 100cc dirt bike I use to run around the farm on. Can I get a “hot damn” and maybe a flash of titty or ass?
Couldn’t agree more about “dream weaver.” A total POS! Claris (an Apple software company) used to have a web publishing program that was completely intuitive. Us old Macintosh users are perplexed that instead of getting easier to use, software has gotten 10X more difficult.
i refuse to whine..whining is for wussies..i much prefer pissing and moaning ..it sounds better..or at least to my ears..ha
Those are all great. I recently found out that I don’t like it when people show up at picnics with a big electric organ and proceed to entertain the crowd with old-time gospel.
My Aunt Crusty had a picnic in the back yard. A friend of Aunt Rod Stewart brought this giant Yamaha honk machine out. I looked at Aunt Crusty and said, “Who brings an organ to a picnic?” Aunt Crusty said, “I would’ve just been happy if she’d worn some damned clothes.” Sure enough, she was wearing Britney Spears shorts and a bikini top and I hadn’t noticed. BTW, she must get a Brazilian wax; otherwise, the scant strip of cloth in her flapcrack would’ve looked like a chia pet.
Just sayin.