Asshole of the Day

The Stand-by Ticket

Folks, it's mighty tempting to take advantage of the bargain basement prices you can get when you agree to fly stand-by. But beware, you may end up as I did, next to the lady with the screaming kids and the strange mute boy who wrote his drink order on a napkin and proceeded to slobber on the window.

Asshole of the Day

I hate you.

Asshole of the Day

The Credit Where No Credit is Due Guy

Oh you are the worst kind of asshole. What do you mean "we did it. "There's no "WE" in "I" you son of a bitch.
Do you see that picture?! Now that is teamwork. Take notes ya filthy bastard.

Asshole of the Day

The Poop Bandit

Sure, everybody poops. And once in a while, everybody has no choice but to poop at work. However, if you're going to take a massive shit the size and shape of half a brick, at least make sure the flush was sufficient enough to drop that brick into the sewer.

Thank you for ruining my morning today, asshole.

Asshole of the Day

D.I.E.T. (Did I Eat That?) Soda Drinkers
(Not to be confused with normal diet soda drinkers - the people who drink diet soda as a treat but actually eat and drink healthy food and beverages on a regular basis)

Riddle me this, assholes: Why are you willing to save a measly 150 calories by drinking that nasty shit while piling your plate with fried food and desserts? And don't give me that "because it tastes less sugary than regular soda" shit. You started drinking diet for a reason - and that reason was to save calories. I don't see you complaining about that apple pie being too sugary.

And another thing, why do you college girls drink that shit and then go out and drink 10 beers at parties during the weekend?

Drinking diet soda and then eating a ton of high calorie/high fat food is like robbing a bank and only taking enough money to pay your bills for that one month.

Come on, asshole. 150 calories won't kill you - but all the trans-fat in that KFC fried chicken breast will. Go big or go home.

I am but a lowly eunuch

What in the hell is a eunuch? According to my friends Merriam and Webster it is:

1 : a castrated man placed in charge of a harem or employed as a chamberlain in a palace2 : a man or boy deprived of the testes or external genitals3 : one that lacks virility or power

I am a modern day eunuch. Yes I am a girl, but bear with me for an explanation. I believe that every person has balls. The size of these balls varies depending on how outspoken you are. You’ll find that some people never let their balls descend at all. Well I think that since graduating from college, my balls have experienced unprecedented growth. I dare say they were hanging quite nicely. But in the last few weeks, several people have made attempts to castrate Lefty and Righty. They’ll send me cyber kicks via e-mail, or pop in my office unexpected before I can block the blow.

I try to take the defensive stance that I’ve seen so many times from males, hunch over with my hands covering my groin. But when your balls are metaphoric, that doesn’t work, so you take the full force of the kick. I’ve noticed that they are beginning to shrivel and retreat. I think I need a man’s opinion here: How do I save my little guys?

Asshole of the Day

Mr. Heat Miser

Where the hell have you been, asshole? It's frickin' freezing!

Asshole of the Day

The Anonymous Commenter

REVEAL YOURSELF
Or else you won't be taken seriously, cowardly miscellaneour.

Observational Study: Presenters

A post by Mr. Opinion, contributing blogger

Today I was subjected to a new kind of miscellaneour. The presenter miscellaneour. Specifically the researcher/academic who tries to present but is entirely lacking in presentation skills. Why didn't you prepare for your presentation? Why do you insist on messing up and then reminding us: "I'd like to keep this an informal presentation"? Why do you assume the audience knows what you're even saying? Did you ask if we were familiar with the topic? Why do you keep telling me: "This is a bad slide, I'll explain it"? These questions were running through my mind as I sat in a grey room, under fluorescent lights, listening to some presenter miscellaneours.

I honestly have no idea what they presented, they lost me right from the start. However their horrible presentation skills did allow me time to a) draft this post and b) observe the people around me.

Here's what I observed:

The Sleeping Guy was there. He doesn't snore, but he does sleep a lot. Too bad he was right in the presenters line of sight, that must have been discouraging for them (not that I care).

Who is the girl with the pink panties?

The guy with Zebra and Tiger striped frames for his glasses is here. But why would a man buy such frames? And does he expect to be taken seriously?

There's the guy who looks like he still plays Dungeons and Dragon's in his mom's basement on Friday nights. Must eat a lot of Burger King, too. Oh man, did he just scratch himself with his pen? Yep, and he's still doing it.

Turns out the third presenter was a woman. Fooled me.

Those are the highlights; suffice it to say I was trapped in a room full of freaks and geeks. I can only hope that none of it rubbed off - I have an image to maintain you know.

Asshole of the Day

Buhster's Pick Today...

Big Bag Bitches

Hey, Lincoln Park Trixies! It's bad enough that I have to see your smug asses on the bus carrying Tiffany bags as lunch sacks, but must you carry the biggest, most cumbersome designer purse too? If you knock me in the head/shoulder/rib cage one more time, you're going to be picking out designer threads from in between your teeth for the next year after I shove that thing down your throat.

The Corporate Trickle Down

Remember when you were in grade school and you’d play that telephone game? You know, the one where the class sat in a circle and one person whispered a sentence to the person sitting next to him. By the time the message reached the end of the circle it had been distorted beyond recognition.
Example:
Beginning of Circle: The elephant blew water from its trunk.
End of Circle: My best friend’s name is Tiffany.

The place I work is fun! We play Telephone everyday! Our executives tell their assistants messages they want me to know. Then the assistant tells my big boss, who then tells my little boss while they’re in the restroom washing their hands, who then writes an even more abbreviated message in the form of an e-mail. Ten sentences have been turned into one that’s barely decipherable. And the end result is always an assignment.

Why oh why cant important people convey information directly to peons like myself? In the age of e-mail, voicemail and text messaging, can’t we do a little bit better? We’re all adults, must we rely on a grade school method of communication?

Asshole of the Day

Fake Snow


Dear Mr. Chicago Weatherman,

The next time you lie about a snowstorm, I'm coming for your ass!

Best,

Miss Misc