It's "Happy"

The actual quote is "happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night." 

I guess I actually do wish you that... yup, I do.

Bah - ggy Jeans!

Am I the only one who thinks pocket scribbles on jeans look silly?  Sorry, but they do nothing for your butt!  Then, when the pockets are hanging somewhere between my-pants-are-fallen-and-I-can't-pull-them-up and Mommy-I-went-pee, the designer touch looks downright ridiculous.  Are you trying to look clueless?  It's working!

One More Time...

Literally means actually.  You did not literally die or else we both died!  (I'm not in the habit of communicating with the "other side.")

and by the way...

"Irregardless," if actually a word, is either redundant, or a double negative, take your choice.

A Lot Less Grumpie

...now that the political ads are gone for a while!

Bleee- aaack!  I hate being peppered with those big spender ads that begin with, "Here in..." (fill in your state) and most likely come from big money out of state interests.   You want to extend your tentacles into my poor little panic ridden state.  I'm on to you!

NO! NO! NO!

OK, I sound like a two year old, but I'm really tired of our political ads.  Who has the money to keep throwing at us the idea that our new law to prevent voter fraud is an infringement of our "rights."  How stupid do they think I am?  -- I'm pretty stupid, but I'm voting NO!

And, more casinos?  What?  They haven't even finished building the new one!  I voted against it, too.  Frankly, if Maine is to become the place to gamble rather than the place to camp and eat lobster, I want to tell my grandchildren I voted against it.  Ugh!  NO! and also, NO!  Preying on the frightened, unemployed people who have such short collective memories does not impress me, Big Dirty Money!

We will come out of this if we keep our heads.  We will get to that point, again, where you can spend thousands of dollars you do not yet have on plastic toys for all ages that will choke the landfills!  Just tighten your belt and do your best!  Believe it or not, that is the American way!

NO PARKING! Please

OK, this is serious. 

The spaces in handicap parking areas that are marked with diagonal yellow lines are NOT for parking.  I don't care if you have a handicap hang tag.  I don't care if you have a handicap plate.  I don't care if you are eleven months pregnant and your water just broke.  DON'T PARK THERE! 

There is no punch line. 

My uncle was stricken with polio when he was in high school.  This athlete now could not use his hands.  He could not walk.  He could move his legs a little and he had the use of his head and neck muscles.  His bed kept his body breathing while he was asleep. It rocked him up and down, head to feet and back to head.  He had an electric wheelchair that was equipped with switches at his knees.  In his chair he could move as far as there were no latched doors, no steps, no curbs. 

 He went to college and got his degree, lived in his own place and had an assistant who, among other things, drove his lift equipped van.  This is how I know what those yellow striped spaces are for.  What good is it to park in a designated space when there is no room to open the door and put out the lift? 

Just another set of stairs. 

Just another latched door. 

New! Improved! Bah!

It's ridiculous to be bothered by so small a detail.  Don't tell me.  I know, and I'm grumpy, anyway. 

It destroys the even flow of a long established routine. 

It leaves sharp edges that cut into my nice clean silicone spatula. 

It makes it nearly impossible to get every last drop, rankling my frugal soul. 

It makes it harder to clean up for our towns dainty recyclers. 

It's the darn 'pop top' redesign of

soup concentrate cans.

 

Grr. 

 I don't need improvements that make something so simple take longer! 

Bah! 

Phooey! 

Humbug!

Now, I feel bet...

No, I don't!

RATS

DON'T TELL ME!

I'd like to know what is about me that inspires these confidences.  (OK, maybe I wouldn't really like to know.)  It happened again, and I don't understand it. 

I am unabashedly Christian.  I don't wear a button saying, "Ask me how not to GO TO HELL." or pass out tracts at social functions, but if you are around me very long it becomes obvious that I'm relying on Jesus' sacrifice to get me to heaven.  It also becomes obvious that I ain't makin' it on my own!  So, why has this happened to me at least twice?

A Christian friend has told me with smiles and great satisfaction how they stole something.  How am I supposed to react?  What do they want from me, a pat on the back.  Better not turn your back for that pat, you'll be surprised where it lands!  

The only thing I can think of is that each person thought that they weren't "really" stealing.  One took something from our workplace.  The other from the donated items outside a charity store. 

Why did they tell me?  I'm not qualified to give absolution!  Was I supposed to say, "Oh, you clever thing."  Did they want me to say, "You put that back, and say you are sorry!"  I don't know.   I don't get it.

I get confessing a weakness in warning, to ask for support or as a friendship deepening thing-gummy.   But this, I don't get and it makes me grumpy that I don't get it.  (Or should that be, that I do get it?)

So, do me a favor, wouldja?  If you get stinkin' drunk and think it's a joke; if you act like a jerk to get what you want and think it's smart, please

DON'T TELL ME!

GRRRR!

I AM FRUSRATED!
I am not technically challenged, not even a little bit.... OK, I am, but why won't my regularly used "signature" come up when I comment????

What's Wrong With this Picture!

Too easy to go off on a rant
about this one.  When I first saw it
I was going to post it on my "funny"
blog.  I think it is too serious a
problem for me to make light
of, so here it is. 

Take heed!

AHEM!

Ummm...

Two a.m. in the morning is redundant.  am is morning...

Tough to be Grumpie

when the nights are cool enough for a blanket, the days are warm but not hot, with a lovely breeze blowing snd the skies are blue with fluffy white clouds.  If I work hard enough at it, I can probably comw up with something.  Let's see...    it can wait.

Harrumph!

Young lady, if you would add a few inches to the legs of your shorts, you might not have to dig them out of your butt in a public parking lot!  Gah!

Feeling Left Out

Now, there are some things I want to be left out of -- obviously, I'm not a slave to fashion and I don't care to join in with politically correct thinking for it's own sake. 

I guess I must be an oddball in other ways.  Perhaps I'm socially unacceptable.  Anyway, this is written with a little lump in my throat because I wasn't invited and I'm feeling left out.

Whi-i-ine!

Did you forget?

Okay, let's go over this, again!

1. T-shirts are underwear, especially white ones!

2.  I don't want to see your underwear, and that means your bra and your underpants, or any portion thereof, whether sticking out of your clothes or playing peekaboo through you too sheer clothes!

3.  Running shorts belong at the track.

4. Sweat shirts and pants belong at the gym, or maybe the track.

5.  Your baseball cap should be doffed as you enter the door, and certainly should not be on your head whilst you are dining.

6. Short shorts allow too much of your skin to touch something I might have to touch. 

Maybe that's enough for right now.

Thanks I feel a little less grumpie.

Puh-leeze!

Get a full length mirror!  That's all I'm say...

Nah, I can't just leave it there.

OK, I understand.  You want to be comfortable.
Just because your body has aged past perfection, doesn't mean you mustn't wear shorts in public, I guess.  There should be a law, however, against wearing one of those  printed(LIKE THIS) t-shirts clinging over and rolling under your sagging bosom.  On a young, well endowed woman it looks rather ghastly.  Stuck to your body, well... puh-leeze!

Wanna borrow my muumuu?

Don't Say It!

OK, there is nothing tongue in cheek about this grumpiness!  You have no idea what someone else may be going through.  Your negative comment may be the straw that broke the camel's back.  You may discourage the stuggling soul from the next baby step he/she is trying to take.  Write it in you journal.  Blog it.  Talk to your bathroom mirror about it.  Whatever you must do to keep it from escaping your lips at the crucial moment, do it!  Shut up.  Don't say it!

Psst!

Miss, if you have to keep pulling your shirt down, maybe it's too small.  (and the cutoffs are not your best look.  Save them for the lake.)

Ma'am, If you are having difficulty handling the car, the traffic or your booze, perhaps the center lane on the highway is not your best option. (It was scary getting by you!)

Hmph!  Just ask me how to live!  And do as I say, not as I do.

Human Schmuman!

The trouble with human nature is that there are too many people connected to it.

MORE OF THE BEST OF MILTON BERLE'S PRIVATE JOKE FILE

Really?!

OK, why the short shorts with the work wear.  Unless you are going to the lake, please, lengthen your inseam, sir!  If you think you look sexy, I disagree.  Those legs are OK, but not spectacular and, in any case, who wants to see them in, say a grocery store?!  Ugh!

I'm Not Into It!

Did our forbears not come to this continent, form this country and give their lives so that we might live differently from the old world?  Why then, must we, in this generation, attempt to conform to what the old world has become?  If the global community does not like our point of view, let us work for more understanding.  Turning from our independence to make ourselves agreeable to those countries which denied our ancestors the freedoms they carved out for us seems betrayal to their toil.  Sinking into sameness will not benefit our children's children who may someday, condemn us for our willful blindness.  The great experiment must not fail because we are to lazy to keep that which was bought with rivers of their blood, sweat and tears.

Little Girl...

Are you crazy? 
Don't you know you'll be grown up for most of your life? 
 Why try to look like you are twenty-eight when you lack about twenty of those years?? 
While you have the chance, enjoy dressing like a child!  Leave off the make-up.   Skip the tight jeans.  Braids and ponytails are fun! 
Be yourself, not who you think you want to be in the future. 
You look ridiculous!  (It's embarrassing.)

Ribbit!

Low rise "skinny" jeans make most people look like frogs!

Snow Big Deal

OK, all you who gush over the first snowfall of the season.  Have you had enough?

OK all you who grouch over every snowfall after Christmas.  I've had enough!

It is February, not April.

Besides, all this crabbing is drowning out my grumping!

Mixed Signals

What is with manufacturing automobile turn signals and headlights together?  The taillights are bad enough.  I usually follow at a distance safe enough to get irritated with (but am in no danger of hitting) the half witted driver who turns without... oh, is that faint glimmer a turn signal?  Staring into the headlights of an oncoming minivan, slowing inexplicably... Ah, my dazzled eyes just caught a fleeting flash, didn't it.  Give me the old bolted on bug eyes!  Give me the hand signals!  No, not that signal...

Questions for Winter Grouches?

Why crab about the snow and the cold?  Is it January?  Is this New England?  Did we not expect this?  Have we been spoiled by a couple of open Winters?  Is there not beauty in the still white world? 

Well, are you answering me?  Why not enjoy each season as we have it?   Do they not whirl by fast enough, as it is?  Can we not find gratitude for something?  Why must you grumble?

Why was one of my best Christmas gifts a tub of red tulips?  Why did I keep them prominently displayed?

"Discussion"

Is it a discussion when the participants just air their views?

dis·cus·sion

noun \di-ˈskə-shən\

Definition of DISCUSSION

1

: consideration of a question in open and usually informal debate

2

: a formal treatment of a topic in speech or writing

 

Merriam Webster

 

I guess it could be.  Many "discussions" leave me grumpier than ever.  Obviously, you want to show everyone that you can parrot what you've seen on TV, the Internet, etc!   Just shut up, so I can give you the benefit of my hard earned wisdom! 

What are You (almost) Wearing?

I've already mentioned that I'm a clothing or costuming curmudgeon.   I wouldn't be at all displeased if we all draped ourselves in robes and wore sandals or moccasins, since going barefoot is too dangerous and messy. 

I do like pretty dresses.  I like men in nice dressy-casual clothes.  BUT - Modesty is always a part of my definition of pretty.  It is not pretty or cute to render the garment moot, by baring or outlining the very body it's meant to cover!  

I do not deliberately subject all those I meet to the sight of those body parts which should be kept private.  I have no wish for you to lust after me, nor to laugh after me.  Could you not do the same for me? 

Cover yourself, please!  The place for displaying your wares is not on the street, much less at word, in school, on the bus ... Puh-leeze!

Trulie Grumpie

Habbig a code bakes be even grubbier thad usual!