Tag Archives: rant

30 Day Writing Challenge: Day Nine

Pet Peeves

This must be the third post that has asked for me to complain. Not that I am complaining about being invited to complain, as I like to complain.

Reality Television

Reality television is formulaic, and here are some examples.
Kitchen Nightmares has an ironic title, since each the first third of each show features Chef Ramsay and his Nightmare on Elm Street face march forth in order that they may find some restaurant problems. Into the second third of the show, and we are greeted by Ramsay yelling at people and interspersed external shots where, in a voice at least two octaves higher, he whines in bewilderment, safely out of earshot.
WAIT! We’re reaching the end and suddenly the restaurant owner decides they don’t see it Ramsay’s way anymore – cut to commercials!!!
The first third of a property show has an annoying couple looking to buy a home that they almost certainly don’t deserve. They have high expectations, but they are not willing to spend any money. We reach the second third of the show, the search for a property is about to begin and every God-damned show features the line: “It will be a challenge to find a home that fits their budget”.
TIME FOR A TALENT SHOW!!! It could be a cooking show, or one of the 500 singing contests, but whichever it is, there is a middle-aged person blabbering on about how tough their parents had it. BLAH BLAH BLAH. You’re a baby-boomer, of course they did.

Manicures on Public Transit

A few days ago, there was a bad snow storm. My journey ended up taking about an hour-and-a-half when it would normally take about 20 minutes. It seemed more like five hours, owing to the woman beside me deciding that she could make better use of this time by filing her finger nails beside me. Each stroke of the nail led to and elbow in my side. It was like sitting next to Vanessa Mae, except much less sexy.


I hate horses. But they can be pets, so I am including them as a pet peeve. Being honest, I am actually terrified of horses. They know I am, they react to my fear, and that, in turn, is why I hate them. There is no worse an animal to have around in an emergency situation. Imagine a fire in a stable. The horse is going to kick out at you, wild-eyed, and break your spine before it craps down its own backside and then runs into a wall and breaks all four of its own legs. A cockroach would be more use. I don’t understand the high-esteem that horses are held in, unless you particularly like the glue made from their bones after they have been involved in a hapless accident. With all the saddles, blinders, reigns and such, maybe it’s a fetish.

Vanessa Mae is a violinist
Blinders are sometimes known as blinkers

How To Ride a TTC Bus

ttc busOr: How to be a civil human-being and not a [Am:E] Douche bag / [Br:E] Bell-end.

  • There are not dragons at the back of the bus. You will not be eaten or flambéed if you stand in the aisle between the rear seats. Stop staring dispassionately ahead while people, just as desperate to get home as you are, stand in the cold as the driver feebly begs “folks, please move back”. It is not a stand-off. Just because you are concentrating furiously on dismissing your surroundings, it doesn’t make those left behind at the bus-stop any less human (or and less victims of your dickishness).

UK Bus

  • This is how you sit on a bus where there are two unoccupied seats. This picture was taken in England and is not an exception, it is how civilised people sit in a way that makes the outside seat available. How DARE you sit on the outside to dissuade people from sitting down? How DARE you sigh and tut and generally make a fuss if someone says “excuse me”. EXCUSE YOU, PRICK.
    There were riots throughout England a few months after this picture was taken, but at least they know how to sit on a bus. And unless your shopping bag has a Metropass, I don’t want to see it sitting beside you.
  • Don’t stand in the middle of the aisle in a passive-aggressive stance like the big “I Am” and then bitch and complain because someone barged into you, intentionally or otherwise. You are not the gatekeeper of the rear doors, you are a self-important pussy that should stand aside or walk and not demand an interaction from everyone that needs to pass without wanting to look at your gormless face.
  • Learn to queue. If someone is stood waiting at the bus-stop, stand behind or beside them (don’t block the [Am:E] sidewalk [Br:E] pavement). Exception: If you are stood in the bus shelter, you are not in-line. I assume the reason it is called a line-up over here is because, like a line-up in the UK (i.e. an identity parade), there’s always at least one criminal.
  • Stop using the rear doors after a snow storm when snow banks have accumulated, dummy. Don’t you remember the snow banks being there when you boarded 10 minutes ago? Or were you too busy staring passively into your phone’s display of your Facebook timeline filled with videos of singing goats and photos of girls’ cleavages hanging like meat in a butcher’s window suspended in time, forever. Yes, girls. Your tits. On a hard-drive in a Facebook data centre in Oregon. Forever. You can delete them from the album, but they’re still stored. Forever.
  • Did you just fully watch your stupid valley-girl girlfriend alight and jam the rear doors into a snowbank? Did you watch how the driver got up, walked outside the bus to the doors and try to close them, fail and return to the driver’s sear? If so, why scream “Errrr, like, what the f**k?” when the lights go out because he is clearly restarting the engine to reset the doors?
    Is it because you were taking a “selfie” at an angle that happens to cause the curvature of your cellphone’s camera lens at the frame to exaggerate the size of your tits? Thought so.
  • Each time you under-pay your fare by dropping a fist-full of low value coins into the fare box or you come up with some pitiful excuse not to pay that the driver can’t be arsed to argue with, you are stealing from everyone on that bus. Not that you give a f**k.

I’m done now.