September 1st, 2006
|elsapie||01:34 pm - Hippie tampons & Overpriced tea|
Okay, sanitary towel adverts have been mentioned before, but the 'flower power tampon' advert is creeping me out.
Psychedelic colours? Yes.
Creepy male 'stoned' voice? Yes.
Talking about the flowery freshness you achieve by using a perfumed tampax? Yes.
Dump it in Room 101? PLEASE.
Ooooh oooh and also, I'd like to shove in all those cafes and coffee shops that charge too much for a cup of tea. It's a teabag with some boiled tap water. Yours truly calculated yesterday, after a drink or two in the pub, that charging 50p per cup would still double your money. So why does it cost £2 for a cardboard container with some shit coloured water? Capitalism cashing in on British tradition, that's why.
June 10th, 2006
|lividius__heart||02:26 pm - room 101|
i think obnoxious people
who use people in relationships
to make themselves feel better
should be permanently locked in room 101
each with the face cage with rats.
Current Mood: crushed
Current Music: Tool
November 13th, 2004
|elsapie||10:40 pm - First post.|
This truly deserves a space in Room 101, because I truly believe they are a menace. I would like to hear a single argument FOR them, because I can't think of one.
'Realistic' dolls. No, not the ones you give to American teenagers to teach them a so-called lesson... The ones you buy your kid/niece/baby sister for Christmas. The ones that have every disgusting aspect of a child, and not a single good one!
They are "just like the real thing"! They scream, burp, pee and I'm sure I've seen adverts for some that snore. WTF. Parents actually want their kids to play with these, teach their daughters how to change a nappy when they're still in nappies themselves (the child, not the parent) and play with it. Erm, last time I checked, little babies aren't good for playing with at all... They sleep, scream, eat and poo. That's the game.
What fun. Here's a picture if you dare look:
( Put it into Room 101, or it will probably pee on youCollapse )
Of course, I don't care if REAL babies do all those baby things, because it's biology and the parents deserve what they get in terms of messy nappies and vomit on their new jumper. But I don't think 5 year old girls should have to go through taking care of a bit of moulded plastic which does the same thing for no purpose whatsoever.
Don't even get me started on the adverts for these things, I'm sick of small German girls with curly blonde hair living in a pastel pink world, skipping about, changing a doll's nappies. Ew. For my next entry: advertising aimed at children.
December 24th, 2003
:: brushes tumbleweed and dust away from the community ::
Long time no posting, eh?
Well, I got my hair cut today. I wandered down with a photo, spoecific instructsions and everything... and from the first snip the hairdresser ignored me and now it's far too short and it looks stupid and I hate it and I'm deeply traumatised. Stick 'em in.
I'd like to put Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen in to Room 101, purely because they irritate the hell out of me!
Hairdressers who don't listen:
Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen
EDIT: In the spirit of festive bitterness, because their backgrouynd chirping is irritating me, I would like to put Munchkins in to Room 101.
November 30th, 2003
|codedragon||12:52 am - Air Freshener Ads|
I would like to put Bathroom Air Freshener Ads into Room 101. Immediately.
Why? Do I need to explain?
You're sitting in front of the telly eating your lunch (or tea, breakfast, whatever. It matters not). You're watching, to pick a show at random, Coronation Street. As you move your fork, loaded with whatever food you fancy, towards your mouth, an ad break intrudes on your time with the denizens of the cobbles. What's the first thing you see? A kid, having a poo, and then telling us that it smells bad.
For fuck's sake!
Do I want to hear "At least Mum's got that new thing to make it smell nice"? Come on!
Please, put me out of my misery and vote this in. Please?
Should bathroom air freshener ads go into room 101
Yes, please God
No, I'm absolutely fine with discussions about the odour of excrement going on during my viewing time.
Current Mood: aggravated
September 27th, 2003
|albeitcrazy||02:01 pm - Phone troubles in Room 101|
Please let me tell you about the new target for aggression in my new life here in Oregon. Kurt and Deborah. These names bring a grimace to my face, and a cold calculating sense of revenge to my mind. What did these heinous villians do to encourage such a sense of wrath? I'll get to that.
First off, I'll say that I have never met these two people. I do not even know their last name, but what I do know is that they cause me daily pain. Kurt and Deborah (the diabolical duo) had my phone number before me. Harmless? You may say that, but you'd be wrong. These two troglodites never paid a bill in their lives. So after dumping this phone number (for reasons that make all too much sense) Kurt and Deborah shirked responsibility and are probably roaming free and happy far from the annoyance of collection agency phone calls.
Then along comes poor unsuspecting me, making a deal with the proverbial devil (Verizon) for the use of a land line. Now I am plagued with countless attempts to recollect a debt that I never had the pleasure of incurring daily by telephone. I feel like the A-Team convicted of a crime I did not commit. Unlike the A-Team, I can't make the wrong things right. So if you are ever in trouble, and are lucky enough to find them, you can hire the A-Team, because God knows I'm useless in that arena. So back to bitching...
8AM is a collection agencys wet dream. It is a time when most non-bill payers are home and sleeping. If they can catch one of these scoundrels at said hour, they are usually too groggy to realize who they are talking to and give themselves away easily. This does not work out well for me. The bastards call and call, even after repeated attempts to explain to them that I am indeed not Kurt, do not know Kurt, and wish I could find him myself so I could beat his ass!
Collectors are trained not to believe people who say, "I'm not (blank). No (blank) does not live here." I cannot say I blame them. Of course people lie to them. So what a conundrum. What do I do? Change my number? No way! I like my number... I do not know if this stems from ease of remembering it or out of principle for this injustice. I think I will attempt to hunt these two down, and find out what the hell is up. Then I will call all the collectors and give them the right number. Maybe then I will find peace... or just bitch about something else... either way.
So here's 2 polls...
Collections agencies - Satan spawns?
Hope the door to Room 101 coses on their pinkies.
These people are only doing their jobs (and annoying the piss outta me)
People with unfinished business, who drop their numbers into your lap...
Find 'em, fry 'em, and toss the tossers into Room 101
they should be allowed to roam the plains freely likely grazing buffalo...
Current Mood: annoyed
Current Music: The White Stripes - Jolene
|albeitcrazy||02:35 am - I speak from experience...|
Lesson #1: Never brutally stab yourself in the finger.
The wisdom I am about to impart upon you through the following story is meant to be used as a cautionary tale... a lesson for life... keep it close.
So the other day I was in my kitchen in need of some snacking material. My wife had been at work all day, and I find it hard to get the inspiration to cook for just myself. This leads to meals made of only peanuts, wasabi peas, cheez-its or what have you. The lazy man's meal for the day gleamed at me from the cupboard shelves like a holy grail, or an oasis to a wayward traveler. FROSTED CHEERIOS! Hallelujah, I thought. A bowl, some milk, and the coveted O's would provide sensible yet simple-to-prepare fare.
My next step was to open the box. Easy enough... Just a little tear of the old cardboard and voila! But wait... oh yes, the plastic bag inside. I had forgotten... how foolish. In my zeal for my meal I tugged and pulled at the bag with every part of my body that might be used to get through this seemingly inpenetrable container. After exhausting teeth, fingers and other now sore body parts, I began to search for a cutting implement. Let me just pause to say that they (being "Big Cereal") must have changed the inner lining bags to some sort of space-age poly-carbo whatchamacalit kevlar-esque death material. Mind you, this is one of the mini multi-pack boxes, not the jumbo family-of-addicts size. But I digress...
At last a staple of modern kitchen utilities appeared before me... THE STEAK KNIFE!!!
I tried many ways to get the damn knife to cut open the top of "said" bag, but to no avail. I decided, in my infinite wisdom, to hold the top of this tiny bag and thrust the knife at full force into one side and out the other. Ha! How simple it seemed. So as I drew back my hand, I was entranced with the visions of old-timey soldiers training with bayonets on sand-filled dummies. And with one great powerful motion I plunged the knife straight through the outer layer of the bag, through the other outer layer of the bag, and straight into my left index finger.
Let me take a moment to reflect on the reaction one has after brutally stabbing themselves in their own kitchen in the pursuit of a midday meal. AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
That is about as close as I can come without truly giving justice to the sensation. What came next is not intended for children, the elderly, anyone with a heart condition, or pregnant women.
After pulling out the knife, a new material I had never seen before began to cauliflower out of my new wound. I can only surmise that these were fat cells. Yummy! With all the blood and shock I decided, again in my infinite wisdom, that these must be loose bits of flesh in need of removal. When I pulled on a piece I felt it tug from the base of my finger. I almost passed out from not only pain but disgust. I ran screaming into the bathroom, where I placed my hand under freezing cold tap water for about twenty minutes. After came a course of ice, and finally a band-aid.
So where is the moral you might ask? Well, it can be summed up by an old cliche: "look before you leap. (or, anytime you are a man and you think you have found a brilliant new way to do something with a sharp utensil or power tool, consult a female.) My wife lacks sympathy for this little problem which I lovingly call "Incident #847"
I, unlike hopefully you, do not always follow the moral of this story. And as long as testosterone still runs through my veins, I am afraid that more blood will be needlessly shed.
So, here is what I would like to vote on "Doing outrageously stupid things in the name of laziness"
Doing dumb stuff 'cause you're lazy!
Into Ye Olde Room 101
What are you talking about, I've never done that (LIAR!)
Current Mood: embarrassed
Current Music: John Cougar Mellencamp - Hurts So Good... (not really)
September 19th, 2003
|misspotsitt||02:51 pm - 'Rate me' and review communities|
I would like to put 'rate me' and review journals into room 101. This is because they are very arrogant and to be honest, a bit pointless.
'Rate me' journals are just ego stroking. As I am sure everybody here is aware, you get voted in by other members based on whether they think you are worthy, and you are then able to judge other people. I just think it's a bit crap to be honest. It doesn't matter what people on LJ think of you, plus you can make up a personality, post someone elses pictures, it's just a bit pointless. Plus the people who join are all tossers who can't exist unless they get their daily fix of how fantastic they are. Sad really.
Review communities are in the same vain. Again someone from one of the communities gets to say if they like your journal or not. Who really gives a shit? Plus there is the same level or arrogance (though admittedly with a bit more intellectualism added)as there is in the rate me communities. Adittedly these two types of community aren't doing me any harm and I've never joined any so I haven't personally been insulted on any, but they can be quite cruel. Also, the vast majority of my friends have never heard of livejournal let alone actually having accounts or reading it without accounts. It isn't really a big deal what a bunch of people on a website think of your or what you write.
They just annoy me. I see no point to them.
|albeitcrazy||04:47 am - wind chimes...|
Let me begin with a simple phrase to explain my feelings on the subject... I FUCKING HATE WIND CHIMES!!! Not just any wind chimes, but neighbors with wind chimes. Wind chimes in and of themselves are not really the problem. Some people find them relaxing and soothing. I can see that, although I am not one of those people. The real bugger of it all is any neighbor that thinks you want to be soothed all damn day and night. If I wanted wind chimes, I would go and buy wind chimes. I do not think I should have to be subjected to other people's tranquility. Screw those bastards! I'll even pay to have the wind chimes removed. I'll buy you a CD of wind chime sounds. Hell, I'll even buy you 10 foot high wind chimes and an industrial size fan, as long as you keep that shit inside. Moreover, I would pay good money to take those wind chimes and shove them right up your ass!
Wind chimes, and the people who hang them... Room 101 or Dante's Inferno
Dante's Inferno - any level
*whine* but I like wind chimes...and Yanni
Whew... I feel much better... somehow calmer... and more peaceful... this is more cathartic than FUCKING WIND CHIMES!
Current Mood: cranky
Current Music: The sound of my fingers smashing the keys...
hi, i'm new to this community and i have a suggestion for room 101: people who use products stupidly, pay the price for it, and then go on a huge campaign to say it was the product's fault.
i saw a woman on TV the other night who had a skin condition which turned her skin gray/silver. she blames it on colloidal silver (a mineral supplement available practically everywhere) th doctor told her to take it and now she's gray for life and looks like a corpse.
the FACTS: 1) her doctor prescribed it to her
2) silver is a mineral and should only be taken when needed and not in huge amounts. anyone who knew anything would have told her that. unfortunately, she got it from a doctor who knew fuck all.
3) she took it everyday for 3 years, despite the fact that it's not for daily, continuous use
4) this woman turned gray because of A RARE DISEASE which causes her to react this way. she's one of, like, 3 people IN THE WORLD who had that reaction
5) silver is used by millions of people who are able to use it in an intelligent, reasonable manner. these people tend to have great results.
so now this woman is making a little crusade to tell people that silver is evil and dangerous. i hope her gray ass gets hit by a bus. she should be blaming her doctor for overprescribing, not the product. i've worked in natural health stores for a long time and shit like this happens too often.
thank you for your time. thus endeth my rant. please admit Mrs. Gray Moron and her ilk into room 101.
Current Mood: aggravated
Current Music: Johnny Cash - Hurt