I’m grateful that the university housing, even the apartments off campus where I live, has free internet. I really am.
But when it’s creeping along like mine always does, sometimes I don’t even get the point.
I need to know who you are. I need to know why you said, “I thought you would cut a lot of.” I NEED TO NOW WHAT YOU DIDN’T THINK I WOULD CUT A LOT OF. UNLESS YOU MEANT “OFF,” WHICH MAKES A LOT MORE SENSE.
Even if you just text back and say, “Wrong number.” That would be sufficient.
But now I will be waiting until the end of time with these questions unanswered.
“I have a text from her!”
“That’s so weird because you just told her to text you.”
“I told her happy birthday and she said thanks and I was like I Facebook creeped on you and saw it.”
Cool story, bro.
Listen, I appreciate the fact that you have free buses running all day for the students, but why are there random hour long periods when the bus stops running?
The drivers have to go on break, you say?
That’s totally cool. I get that, I really do. I encourage that they have breaks, because it makes them less likely to hate themselves and purposefully crash the bus. But there are at least three buses running all day, and you’re trying to tell me that basically all of them go on break at the same time?
Fuck you. It’s cold out and I have places to be.
For some things, there are grey areas. Toilet paper positioning is not one of them. Over is right, under is wrong.
Current Configuration explains this better than I ever could.
Anytime I’m on the highway, going a legal five-ish miles over the speed limit in the right lane, some asshole always has to drive five inches behind me. If I’m really lucky, his highbeams are blinding me as well. And when he finally just does what he should have in the first place and passes me, I get shot a dirty look as they speed off into the sunset.
I don’t get it. I’m the proud owner of one speeding ticket, and that was enough for me. I doubt you have anywhere you have to be that requires you to go twenty miles above the speed limit, but that’s not even what bothers me.
If I’m going to slow for you, just pass me. It isn’t that hard, and you eventually end up doing it anyway. Why not just save yourself ten minutes and do it immediately? I just… I don’t understand. It’s one thing to be stuck behind a grandma going ten in a twenty five, but I consider five over the speed limit to be pretty good.
I always secretly hope that I’ll pass them being pulled over a cop farther down the road.
I thought the only things worse than Crocs were those winter Crocs with the fuzz around the rim. I was wrong.
What in the goddamn hell.
This goes double when they saw that I had my feet resting on the back of it before they entered the row. Sure, I took my feet off in an “offering” of the seat, but only because I assumed that you wouldn’t be rude enough to sit in it and take away my perfectly good ottoman.
If I kick the seat several times during the movie, don’t believe me when I saw it’s an accident.
I don’t (usually) mind when people come in my room. I really don’t. But when you don’t close my door again after you leave, I think about permanently banning you. Why should I have to get my lazy ass up because you couldn’t do something that, I thought, was a common courtesy?
The same goes for texting, IMing, etc.
What the hell have you started doing within a millisecond that is more important than my call?