There is so much to talk about I'm not sure where to begin. Let's start with the car. It's being written off. As a recap, I was rear ended by a UHAUL 2 days before my wedding. The girls were in the back with me and luckily we all came out unscathed. Well, all except the Nissan. It's back end was smashed, twice. And here in lies the argument. I was always under the assumption (and yes I know what the infamous they say about assuming) that rear-enders were a pretty cut and dry scenario. Yet still I am sitting around waiting for my deductible back. At least half of it anyhow. It should be all of it. See, there was a car in front of me that I narrowly missed hitting myself. But I missed them all the same. Until I was rammed by the truck and driven right into them. Twice. Now here's where it gets stupid. The insurance company is trying to say that the chances of being hit twice is rare (I guess they haven't heard of recoil). The twats also claim that if I felt a double impact it's because I hit the car in front first. Bull. Shit. If you saw my written off back end it doesn't take a genius to figure out that the truck who hit me wasn't even near stopping. Being as close as my car was to the one in front, I recoiled back into the still moving UHAUL to be hit for a second time, before we all came to a final rest. So somehow in all of this the fucker in the UHAUL is saying he only hit once and therefore I may have to pay half of my deductible. Are you as confused as I am?
In the mean time I am waiting on approval for a 2003 Subaru Forester.
Showing posts with label annoying. Show all posts
Showing posts with label annoying. Show all posts
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Friday, September 21, 2007
What is Wrong With People?
Got my most recent issue of 2 magazine. It was a free gift from one of the stores I have my wedding registry with. Not bad really. It's got some fairly interesting reads on food and sex and it's geared towards couples. But I have to share this because it's way too much like this and I'm having a hard time understanding the whole thing. Are guys really so horny that they need a plush toy or a hundred pound chunk of latex with orfices to take to bed? Which reminds me, I was at the store the other day for a couple of in and out sort of things, but nothing is ever very quick when you've got 2 kids to take with. I was rounding the corner to the checkout and nearly bumped into a woman doing the lane hop. Apparently she was in a rush, but she asked me kindly if I'd like to go ahead. And I respond so kindly, no thank you, reiterating my sentiments on quickness and kids. Well. Isn't this just like the driver who's in such a hurry to pull out that they cut you off when there are no cars behind you, and then they SLOW DOWN. Little miss I'm- in- a- rush decides to apply for one of the store credit cards. Now I'm flogging myself for being so nice (no after you... no I insist, after you.) and wanting to do the same to her for being such a selfish tit. Time passes (probably only a minute but it felt like an hour) and my eyes haven't yet managed to burn a hole in the back of her head, so I hastily do the lane hop myself. The cashier apologizes and I assure her, loudly, that it wasn't her that was the issue. But of course the lane I chose slows down and my original checkout is now empty. fuck
Monday, April 02, 2007
Blogger Bites
Too cute....but again I ask, why won't Youtube post to blogger anymore??????? AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Green
The last time I can recall celebrating St. Patty's Day was about 10 years ago. The operative word being recall. But, March 17th, 2007? This day is forever etched into my psyche.
We hopped aboard a GO bus bound for Toronto. A bus I used to travel on frequently back in my University days. A bus I had forgotten existed. Too bad really. I'm sure I've wasted much time, gas and road rage travelling the Q.E.W. in my car all these years. Earlier that day I was smacked with a headache when the hubby smoked us out of the house by burning his must have toast. (He's always eating. That is something we'll discuss again a little later.) The pounding had almost subsided when much to my displeasure did the idiot behind me start laughing at regular and annoying intervals. What was he laughing at? Dunno. Don't care. But we snapped a pic on Liz's phone all the same. Maybe she'll show it to ya.
6:30 or somewhere there by; We have arrived at GO Union Station(not to be confused with Union Station. Another thing we'll come back to later.) Damn it's chilly. No. Make that freezing! The wind is whipping up my skirt like a wind that isn't whipping won't. Another forgotten T.O. memory. Chicago ain't the only windy city my friends. And with the wind comes the lovely stench of rot...or maybe it's Angus Thripshaw? Da Da Dum (a little elbow swingin' dance). In any case, we walked a few city blocks full of anticipation. Along the way we passed my old stompin' grounds and a few pubs that were already overflowing with lines of eager drinkers and drunkards and maybe even a few leprechauns...or maybe that was later. Not sure now. Worry started to set in that we might have to wait in the literally stinkin' cold. Nearing the bar I could see that the line was much smaller than we had seen previously, consisting of 30 people at best. Well. Let. Me. Tell. You. A line of 30 waits 2 hours. I'm fairly decent at math, so that's 60 minutes per hour multiplied by 2 is 120 minutes divided by 30 is 4. So, every 4 minutes 1 person entered the building. HOLY SHIT! Except that sneaky miss Liz was slipped a smoking pass by some loverly fellar leaving the bar and she got in 20 minutes before the man and I. Bitch! I almost lost my toes.
9:00pm, or there abouts and we are finally sitting down with a pint and an irish whiskey in hand. Ahhhh. As my good friend Bucky used to say, thank god for that sweet, delicious booze. About 1/2 a pint later and Moxy and Green Fish make their entrance looking much like the fine photos they have shared; Fish sporting his fabulous mohawk and Moxy with her sweet sweet smile. But as the night went on, we discovered they were just the sort of folk you only come across when stars collide (or is that align?). They are rich with character, humour and warmth. Later that night Moxy fluffed the pillows and turned down the sheets to her own bed for me and the man, whilst she slept on the couch and fish slept on a dog bed. He insisted. But the man repaid them with a fridge full of floor kaisers, meat, sliced cheese and hot sauce. Let me come back to that.
Entering stage right is Newfie Steve. SIDE STORY- earlier in line I was telling liz about the show Keeping Up Appearances and how Hyacinth was a wannabe royal brit who insists that her last name,Bucket, is actually pronounced Bouquet. Not sure how the topic came up but it did. Then low and behold we meet Steve...END OF SIDE STORY- ...but we can call him Bucket. What did he say? We can call him Bucket? Of course we just had to tell him the side story and his response was "oh ya. I used to work with a fag who insisted on calling me Bouquet." Allllllrighty then. What are the ridiculous chances? Turns out Bucket was here from the East Coast to support his cousin who was touring with his choir, Men of the Deeps.
And as all good leaches do, he hung on. As you can see, I was rather confused by his presence. He also had an equally annoying friend who sat behind me muttering and occasionally would ask me if I was all right. Funny. I had been wondering the same thing about him.
After much laughter, Irish song, and copious amounts of deeelicious booze we had closed the bar. When the last time I did that was...well...3 weeks ago for Liz's birthday.
Anyhoo, with the offer to stay at our new blog friends' apartment we forcibly piled into a cab and then spilled out onto the sidewalk a few blocks later. On the way towards the apartment we stopped at one of the many RABBA food marts for a little drinkie mix. Once settled in upstairs, Green fish poured us a fine green cocktail (rather fitting) of which we were not to ask the ingredients. All of a sudden the hubby realized he was starving and a little unnerved at the fact that noone had purchased any beef. Cause everyone needs beef at a quarter to four in the A.M. After discovering noone would deliver any beef, he trotted back down to the store, returning with none other than...no beef. He did however find the floor kaisers. Yes. In the gals first trip into the store they had admired in horror the bags of kaisers that were being displayed, elegantly on the floor. Apparently the man thought they needed rescuing along with one length of polish sausage, sliced cheese, 2 tomatoes, 4 Johnny Canuck-ring of fire dried pepperettes, 1 bag of blue corn chips, 1 tub of hummus and of course- something the man can never do without- a bottle of hot sauce. None of which he ate. Instead. He passed out.
For 3 lovely hours the man on I slept on our friends' soft, warm bed. Several hours and numerous vomits from the male section later, we made our way out for breakfast. Despite clear skies and a blinding sun, the streets were windier and colder than ever. In return for the comfort of their abode, we treated moxy and fish to breakfast and bid them a short farewell. We had a bus to catch. Our cabbie must have been more hungover than we were cause he took us to the train station(Union Station) instead of the bus station(GO Union Station). They're close. But not close enough. By the time our feet hit the platform it was 11:33 and we had missed the bus we'd planned on taking. Ah well. Liz found an abandoned newspaper to occupy her time. In it we discovered that someone may be plotting the death of Stephen Harper.
We hopped aboard a GO bus bound for Toronto. A bus I used to travel on frequently back in my University days. A bus I had forgotten existed. Too bad really. I'm sure I've wasted much time, gas and road rage travelling the Q.E.W. in my car all these years. Earlier that day I was smacked with a headache when the hubby smoked us out of the house by burning his must have toast. (He's always eating. That is something we'll discuss again a little later.) The pounding had almost subsided when much to my displeasure did the idiot behind me start laughing at regular and annoying intervals. What was he laughing at? Dunno. Don't care. But we snapped a pic on Liz's phone all the same. Maybe she'll show it to ya.
6:30 or somewhere there by; We have arrived at GO Union Station(not to be confused with Union Station. Another thing we'll come back to later.) Damn it's chilly. No. Make that freezing! The wind is whipping up my skirt like a wind that isn't whipping won't. Another forgotten T.O. memory. Chicago ain't the only windy city my friends. And with the wind comes the lovely stench of rot...or maybe it's Angus Thripshaw? Da Da Dum (a little elbow swingin' dance). In any case, we walked a few city blocks full of anticipation. Along the way we passed my old stompin' grounds and a few pubs that were already overflowing with lines of eager drinkers and drunkards and maybe even a few leprechauns...or maybe that was later. Not sure now. Worry started to set in that we might have to wait in the literally stinkin' cold. Nearing the bar I could see that the line was much smaller than we had seen previously, consisting of 30 people at best. Well. Let. Me. Tell. You. A line of 30 waits 2 hours. I'm fairly decent at math, so that's 60 minutes per hour multiplied by 2 is 120 minutes divided by 30 is 4. So, every 4 minutes 1 person entered the building. HOLY SHIT! Except that sneaky miss Liz was slipped a smoking pass by some loverly fellar leaving the bar and she got in 20 minutes before the man and I. Bitch! I almost lost my toes.
9:00pm, or there abouts and we are finally sitting down with a pint and an irish whiskey in hand. Ahhhh. As my good friend Bucky used to say, thank god for that sweet, delicious booze. About 1/2 a pint later and Moxy and Green Fish make their entrance looking much like the fine photos they have shared; Fish sporting his fabulous mohawk and Moxy with her sweet sweet smile. But as the night went on, we discovered they were just the sort of folk you only come across when stars collide (or is that align?). They are rich with character, humour and warmth. Later that night Moxy fluffed the pillows and turned down the sheets to her own bed for me and the man, whilst she slept on the couch and fish slept on a dog bed. He insisted. But the man repaid them with a fridge full of floor kaisers, meat, sliced cheese and hot sauce. Let me come back to that.
Entering stage right is Newfie Steve. SIDE STORY- earlier in line I was telling liz about the show Keeping Up Appearances and how Hyacinth was a wannabe royal brit who insists that her last name,Bucket, is actually pronounced Bouquet. Not sure how the topic came up but it did. Then low and behold we meet Steve...END OF SIDE STORY- ...but we can call him Bucket. What did he say? We can call him Bucket? Of course we just had to tell him the side story and his response was "oh ya. I used to work with a fag who insisted on calling me Bouquet." Allllllrighty then. What are the ridiculous chances? Turns out Bucket was here from the East Coast to support his cousin who was touring with his choir, Men of the Deeps.
Entering stage left is Angus Thripshaw and Larry David. Not too much to tell here except that I had no idea the 2 were musically inclined. WTF?
At some point this guy joined our group.
And as all good leaches do, he hung on. As you can see, I was rather confused by his presence. He also had an equally annoying friend who sat behind me muttering and occasionally would ask me if I was all right. Funny. I had been wondering the same thing about him.
After much laughter, Irish song, and copious amounts of deeelicious booze we had closed the bar. When the last time I did that was...well...3 weeks ago for Liz's birthday.
Anyhoo, with the offer to stay at our new blog friends' apartment we forcibly piled into a cab and then spilled out onto the sidewalk a few blocks later. On the way towards the apartment we stopped at one of the many RABBA food marts for a little drinkie mix. Once settled in upstairs, Green fish poured us a fine green cocktail (rather fitting) of which we were not to ask the ingredients. All of a sudden the hubby realized he was starving and a little unnerved at the fact that noone had purchased any beef. Cause everyone needs beef at a quarter to four in the A.M. After discovering noone would deliver any beef, he trotted back down to the store, returning with none other than...no beef. He did however find the floor kaisers. Yes. In the gals first trip into the store they had admired in horror the bags of kaisers that were being displayed, elegantly on the floor. Apparently the man thought they needed rescuing along with one length of polish sausage, sliced cheese, 2 tomatoes, 4 Johnny Canuck-ring of fire dried pepperettes, 1 bag of blue corn chips, 1 tub of hummus and of course- something the man can never do without- a bottle of hot sauce. None of which he ate. Instead. He passed out.
For 3 lovely hours the man on I slept on our friends' soft, warm bed. Several hours and numerous vomits from the male section later, we made our way out for breakfast. Despite clear skies and a blinding sun, the streets were windier and colder than ever. In return for the comfort of their abode, we treated moxy and fish to breakfast and bid them a short farewell. We had a bus to catch. Our cabbie must have been more hungover than we were cause he took us to the train station(Union Station) instead of the bus station(GO Union Station). They're close. But not close enough. By the time our feet hit the platform it was 11:33 and we had missed the bus we'd planned on taking. Ah well. Liz found an abandoned newspaper to occupy her time. In it we discovered that someone may be plotting the death of Stephen Harper.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
It Makes My Head Hurt
TV last night. Before watching LOST I had some time to kill and there was about zero on. Till I stumbled across this retarded pile of crap. But what the hell do I expect from FOX anyhow. The woman on this show had a GPA of 3.3. But apparently she slipped on the ice and bashed her head on her way into the studio, cause she was missing a few points. One of the questions was, "which country shares the longest border with the US?" She got it wrong. She had to use a lifeline from a 10 year old...who got it right. Somehow the dumb broad managed to go home with 100 grand after getting the question, "how many decades are in 2 millenia?" wrong. AAAAAAAH!!!!!!! So annoying.
UPDATE- in all fairness I should have mentioned that she did in fact get the question, "what colour do you get when you mix equal parts red with equal parts yellow?" right.
UPDATE- in all fairness I should have mentioned that she did in fact get the question, "what colour do you get when you mix equal parts red with equal parts yellow?" right.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Blogger Bites
I love being forced to do something. I am now beta cause without it I cannot post on many of your blogs. No biggy I guess. Just really fucking annoying! Well. Back to business.
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