Things That Annoy Me, But Shouldn't

And if Mr. Happy is too intoxicated on Saturday night but wakes up to a bed that's not empty and a welcoming embrace the next morning, it's procrastinated.

 

You can put me down for two premmeditations. What's my sentence?

 

Sansabelt pants



and pick-stitched lapels

 

Myself I've always referred to babies as "preventable".

 

Somewhat political in nature:

At this point, I shouldn't be surprised at how bi-polar America is. We're either stupidly evil or stupidly oversensitive. I should be used to that, yet no matter what, people having outrage over the most minor thing makes me cringe and question our overall sanity.

 

I thought that was the world in general, but maybe I'm wrong.

 

Well, I only see America bitching about every little thing because it's where I'm from.

 

There are only two sized shopping carts at our local Walmart: small, which can hold a late-model Kia, and large, which holds the Kia and four pudgy kids.

 

My phone, again. This time it's for the constant reminder of hearing loss due to excessive exposure to loud music. Yes, phone, that's the fucking point. If I can't hear the annoyingly loud city, I'm as happy as a fat kid eating cake.

 

The one in town has added a new cart that is about the same length
as the standard massive carts, but it is either a single or 2 stacked
flat topped. Not sure why though. And some are like pull wagons
which is even more curious.

 

But aren't they that size so that the women have somewhere to dump their arse, and the men their belly?

 

I duuno, first time I noticed them was when the Japanese host-boyz were going through a fad of contrast pick-stitching. Chav-tastic as hell, and they still set my hackles up.

 

Child.

Years ago, when I was young, we had pencils, pens and paper—and scissors and glue.

Typewriters were non-electric and only office workers had them.

We had one phone in the house, that sat on a phone table. You picked it up and an Operator (if we were lucky, it was my cousin Elaine) asked you 'number, please?' and you told her the number of the person you wanted to call (in your home town only, unless you were insanely wealthy) and she connected you.

You might be interrupted during a call by somebody else who shared your line, who would tell you to get off the line because they needed to make a call. Or you'd hear a click and realise somebody else was listening in to your conversation.

Finally getting a dial phone and a private line was a BIG DEAL. I was probably around 10 years old when that happened. You still had to dial 'O' for Operator, and speak to an operator if you wanted to place a long-distance call to another town. Which cost an arm and a leg, so you didn't do it.

I owned a box of Prang watercolours, one paintbrush, and a big box of crayons.

We had lined paper to write on and plain paper to draw on and coloured construction paper to cut out and make things with.

........
And here I am now, talking to folk on the other side of the planet every day, all day....sending pictures, exchanging writing, googling, emoji-izing my statements....

It's been quite a lifetime.

 

I am aggravated by people who park too close. Preventing me from getting back into my car in a conventional way.

 

Oh man, I haven't thought of Prang in decades!

 

I find a title much less comical, but the joke may be bad,
it gave me a chuckle for a simplistic place.

Thy whacker and thy thumper.

 

Standing ovations.

 

That was just an example of a host boy. This is contrast pick stiching:



 

And those scenes in films and tv shows where someone in a silent, crowded room is the centre of attention because of something they’ve said or done, and we the audience are left wondering how everyone will react. And then one person starts to clap, slowly at first, until others join in and the whole room is eventually whooping and clapping.

 

I still have my Prang watercolor kit around here someplace . . .

 

Fucking Japan. I was reading about making panacotta salata at home and decided to look into cheese presses.

The cheapest one available on Amazon Japan is this (price in yen circled in red):

5017 yen, free shipping. Now, you probably don't know the exchange rate off the top of your head, so I went to xe.com for you.



Then I went to amazon.com and found the exact same thing, which doesn't ship for free, but will come from the USA to Japan for just under $7 in shipping.

And it costs ten and a half bucks, under twenty with shipping.


My hosts infuriate me at times.