#stephrants

There is a quiet car (or two) on every train. This is well known, and (usually) highly respected by everyone, because sometimes you just need some fucking peace and QUIET after a long day. Today there was a woman who picked up a telephone call to give instructions to someone on the other end about what desserts her shitty little kids may have. Another passenger got up to politely tell her it was the quiet car, to which the woman responded “YEA, I know. I had to just answer this one thing.” OH OKAY THEN. I didn’t realize that every single person in the quiet car got a pass to “answer one thing” on the phone. I didn’t know that all 50 of us packed into this car were allowed to take a couple of minutes to disturb everyone else who purposefully picked this car to sit in SILENCE, so we could all make sure our kids got the jelly doughnut and not the cream filled donut because Johnny doesn’t like cream filled donuts. EXCUSE ME BITCH. I’m so sorry that other passenger disturbed you from your important phone call in the quiet car. Please, forgive her mortal fucking soul, and all of us who expected a peaceful ride home at the end of a 90 degree sweaty day. #hangup #unplugbitch #ihopejohnnygetsacreamfilleddonut #stephrants

**On a personal note, I have two nieces who are students and a brother and several friends who are educators.  They deserve safety.  If you want to bring your bullshit excuses and political agenda into my life, you can go fuck yourself.  These are my people.  They deserve a safe place to live and learn.

I am not "hot." I am not "sexy." These are not self-deprecating statements. They are simply fact. Tonight I am wearing dress pants, an Ann Taylor top, and a cardigan. So to the middle aged man sitting next to me at the table at this dinner/work function - stop. Just fucking stop. Stop giggling with me and touching my arm. Stop joking about tattoos and boasting about your work. And thanks for somehow incorporating the word "mastrabation" jokingly into our conversation, forcing me to excuse myself for the bathroom and miss out on dessert. Because trust me, this woman does NOT skip dessert. I am fucking exhausted. I barely slept the night of the election. I've been in court in the city the past two days and had two night work functions to attend. I have an hour and a half drive home tonight. Fucking. Let. Me. Be. I smile and nod and pretend to care every fucking second of every fucking day. It is my job. But my job does not and cannot include entertaining you. It does not and cannot include pretending to care about you. So go find some other woman holding a pino grigio to annoy the shit out of. I have a husband and dogs to get home to tonight and a career to attend to tomorrow. Fuck, man.

Except remember America – you’re not just like him. You likely are not a millionaire. You likely are not married to former model.  You likely cannot spout off the words “grab ‘em by the pussy” on national TV and still keep your day job.  If you would like to vote for a man that is barely a caricature of a presidential candidate, simply because the other candidate is a woman who fucks with her emails but can actually hold her head up and discuss political issues, then remember – if you make your bed, you’ll have to lie in it fucker.  Go vote.

SORRY? You're "sorry"?! Bitch, you don't know the definition of "sorry." I will do everything in my power to report your ass all over the fucking town. And if I ever see your lazy dumb ass or your piece of shit dogs again we'll see who gets fucking attacked. It won't be the ones I love. Sleep tight bitch.

I arrive at the airport around 3:30am for my 5:00am flight. While in line for security, AA decides to update my flight status from “on time” to delayed for 5 and ½ hours. The reason? Our plane was 6 hours delayed in landing and needs at least 8 hours of resting time. Hmmmmmmmmm. Seems like at literally ANY point after 8:30pm last night (the original landing time and about the same time I was eating dinner), AA could have notified me via one of the numerous modes of communication available that my 5:00am flight would be delayed, and not wait until 3:43am, less than an hour to the original boarding time, to mention it. When I ask why we were not notified last night of the delay when they knew the plane wasn’t landing at 8:30pm, I was informed that they didn’t know the landing time and that they couldn’t notify us of the fact that there would be a POTENTIAL delay because “there are too many planes in the sky and too many flights to track.” ?!?!?!?!?!?! Yes, that is a direct quote. I was told by a representative from AA that they cannot track all of their flights and their take off and landing because it is simply too overwhelming for them with the number of planes in the sky. Moving past this ridiculous comment, I indicated further that the plane landed at 2:30am and yet nothing was communicated to us until just before 4am; to which the agent responded, “well there was bad weather last night, so you should have seen it. A lot of airports are having this issue. I mean, you saw it!” I replied “ohhhhhhhh! You’re right - I should have known. That’s on ME to check the weather and predict it’s going to affect my travel plans 12 hours later even though you are the ones that can actually track flights - or NOT track them, apparently.” When the agent tried to lecture me in an attempt to explain herself, I asked to be removed from the flight, since there was no way to make a connection to my final destination in a timely manner. So, AA, go fuck yourself. Go fuck the giant plane sitting on the runway - oh wait - it needs to rest so please do not disturb it. Go fuck your agents who are in charge of tracking flight delays and updating said information to its customers. Oh wait - you don’t provide that service either. Perhaps it’s a good thing I didn’t get on a flight. I probably should not expect their pilots to know how to fly with SO MANY buttons in the cockpit and SO MANY planes in the sky. Thanks for customer “service” and indicating to me that, basically, the delay and subsequent ruining of my trip was on ME to predict. As if there’s not a million other things I’m expected to be an expert at in my life and career, let’s add the need to be a mother fucking weather person and flight predictor to the list of things I’m apparently responsible for AND terrible at. Fuck off American Airlines. FUCK off.

SIT DOWN. Just sit the fuck down on the seat. Seriously - use a seat cover or wipe down the seat before you pop a squat. You are not going to get an STD (and if you do, why the hell were you rubbing your vagina all over the seat to begin with that would allow for you to contract something?!). By not sitting down, you're spraying your piss all over the fucking place, creating a reason for the next person to not want to sit down. And so it goes. Just sit the fuck down so the seat can stay clean. That's literally all it takes for the seat to remain clean and dry. And if you're still grossed out by using a public toilet - then DON'T. Hold your piss and stop bitching. So either sit the fuck down or get the fuck out.

…mother fucking loser.

I’ve been suffering from a potential sinus infection since last week and over the holiday weekend. I decided against spending $170.00 to go to the emergency clinic for antibiotics over the weekend and instead called my regular doctor’s office first thing Monday morning for an emergency appointment. After them not answering for over 30 minutes AFTER they allegedly open, I am told there are absolutely no appointments. After I groan, sneeze and cough, I ask if there is really NO appointment with ANY doctor that they can squeeze me in to. Then the onslaught of questions occurs - What’s going on? What is this for? (I just need antibiotics for a sinus infection.) Are you a regular patient? (Yes, in fact I was there for an appointment 2 weeks ago.) Verify all of your insurance information. (Even though it’s already in their system.) “Okay we have a 4:15.” ?!$*%#/&!?? What. The. Fuck. Why must I play a fucking game, do a fucking song and dance, and beg to get not even 10 minutes with my regular fucking doctor?? This isn’t for a physical. This isn’t for a vaccine. The appointment literally requires a pen and your prescription pad. You will get my ridiculous $35 copay and reimbursement from my insurance company. So cut out the exclusivity bullshit. This isn’t a fucking club in SoHo. This isn’t access to the Oscars red carpet. This is people helping fucking people. Fuck.

I arrived early to court and set up shop with my laptop and files at an empty table with 4 other chairs. Eventually the room became filled with other people.  A woman politely asked if she could share my table. “Of course!” I responded - it’s a Friday morning and I don’t need 5 chairs while waiting for my tenants to arrive.  Eventually her attorney, her property manager, and a tenant were sitting at the table with us. Still, there is one chair open for me to use when I begin speaking with my tenant who arrives. Perfect. I honestly thought this was the epitome of the art of sharing in the real world.  How wonderful it is... or was.  I piled my laptop, files, and other belongings neatly on the table in front of my chair, and my briefcase leaning on the floor next to it, while I temporarily vacated my seat and stood in line for 2 minutes to hand in paperwork at the desk not 15 feet away.  While doing so, I see that another tenant has been invited to my shared table and told to sit in my seat. She proceeds to lean over my personal belongings to speak with the others at the table.  ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? I need ONE chair to keep my shit by and you can’t even give me that? Do I literally have to call “fives” in court or can you fucking give me the one chair I’m entitled to?? When I storm over there and rip my files and laptop from underneath her folded arms, the woman who originally sat down at the table says “oh...sorry about that... should we...I mean, you don’t have to move your things...” in the most non-genuine response one can dream of.  I cut her off with a “well, what the hell else am I supposed to do - HUH? I don’t need people sitting on my personal effects.”  Lady - go fuck yourself. I politely allowed you to share my table. I said NOTHING when you took over every single other seat around me.  And I get up for two fucking minutes and you allow one of your tenants to SIT ON my shit?  Learn some fucking manners and remember that you are not the queen of landlord/tenant court.  You do not get a throne with your fucking name engraved in diamonds and you do not get to hog every seat like the fucking pig you actually are.  

I was walking my dogs through my neighborhood, rounding the corner onto my street where a red light had literally just turned green, when, not two seconds later, some asshole four cars deep lays on his horn. I found myself staring at him with an obvious stink eye because not only was his horn-blaring rude and disrespectful to the neighbors who live on my street, but it was completely unnecessary. I found myself asking “Really??” out loud as we made eye contact. As he was slouching out of his window and saw/heard me, he responded “oh shut up!” Oh yea old man?? You want me to shut up? How about I take your car horn and blare it through speakerphones into your bedroom 24 hours a day? How about I take your car horn and shove it up your ass you hyper maniac? Go fuck yourself old man. What a tough guy honking your horn at the young lady in front of you. I’m sure you could hold your own in a real fight against someone your own size with your potbelly lazy ass.

Are you shitting me, Halls? You are intended to soothe sore throats - typically associated with a cold, flu, strep throat, or other like illness. And you print remarks on your wrappers encouraging sufferers to "do harder" and telling us "the show must go on! Or work." I AM working through this shitty cold! I AM dealing with a sore throat while teaching a four hour seminar and snotting all over the place with an insufficient arsenal of Kleenex. But you produce and distribute sore throat remedies! You should be encouraging the sick to stay home, rest, drink fluids and fucking stay away from others so as to not contaminate them!! Fuck you! Get a new fucking marketing team you pricks!

Interesting how everyone says that “The Rock’s” puppy dying is a sad and tragic “accident.”  Earlier this month, both of his pups fell into a pool and he “saved” them. Now his pup eats a toxic mushroom in the backyard and dies. As a dog lover and dog parent, it KINDA sounds like you should have been supervising these small, fragile animals a little better.  I own a “shitty” dog who eats anything she can grab, has anxiety, barks and growls, and yet I work EVERY.SINGLE.DAY. to make sure she’s happy, healthy, and most importantly, safe.  Maybe you should have stopped spending so much time posting photos of yourself “saving” and “comforting” your dogs in their time of need while posting “#WishICouldveSavedYouOneMoreTime.”  How about “#WishIWasABetterParentAndKeptAVigilantEyeOnMyPuppiesAfterTheFirstNearDeathExperience”??  Just because you’re famous doesn’t mean you get to buy whatever you want and pretend to take care of it when it’s too late. 

You have one job.  Though your company is a more expensive dog-walking business in this town, I pay without complaint because, in my view, paying you $20/day SHOULD come with a piece of mind that my dogs will not get hurt, die, or have something potentially less severe occur, like getting off leash or getting into a fight with a roaming cat.  So when you call me in the early afternoon and tell me that you’re locked OUTSIDE of my apartment because you left BOTH sets of keys inside, I am confused by your stupidity.  And when my SO has to leave work, pay for bus fare, and take an hour out of his day to come home and let you in, I am annoyed by your thoughtlessness.  But when you then proceed to allege that one of the key sets did not work properly anyway and you say that you may LIE and tell your boss that we “changed the locks” so you don’t get into trouble, I am fucking LIVID.  Bitch, I’m the most responsible, thorough, and prepared person you will EVER meet.  I not only had multiple copies of my apartment keys made upon moving in, but I tested each and every one twice to be sure it worked in our locks.  I then divvied up all of the sets onto separate key chains to distribute accordingly, and you received two WORKING copies.  I’ve had a dog walker for over 4 years.  You think I don’t know how this shit works?!  If you DARE to make a statement that implies I am irresponsible, I will not cut your throat... I will simply attempt to have you fired and bash your name over the airways.  DON’T tell me I’ve done wrong when it comes to the safety of my apartment and my pups.  You will lose and you will regret it, you dumb fucking bitch.

I have several simultaneous thoughts that run through my head as soon as I see a middle-aged man in a red corvette up on my ass on the highway. In no particular order, they are - small dick, mid-life crisis, divorced and/or loveless marriage, balding, and again, small dick. If you don’t want to be a classified as such stereotype, don’t buy a RED corvette and drive like a maniac you sad prick.

It's 8am, on a Monday morning. I'm sitting in a quiet hallway, waiting for court to start, and I hear this: "HELLO!... HELLO?... CAN YOU HEAR ME?... YEA...CAN YOU HEAR ME?... YEA... SO WHAT HAPPENED WITH.... Wait, WHAT??" Some jagweed is talking via speakerphone to another person who clearly cannot understand him - because NO ONE can hear anyone who is talking on speakerphone, as it is an area of technology we have somehow not advanced upon since the advent of cell phones. I, however, can hear ALL of the scrambled screaming from down the hallway. How about you take your unnecessarily obnoxious "conversation" down the hall, away from the people sipping their caffeine and into a private conference room that has been clearly marked for dumbasses like yourself. Or another shockingly easy solution is to just turn your speakerphone off and use the phone's earpiece. You're not driving. You're not doing anything with both of your hands that requires you to be on speakerphone. In fact, you are holding the phone's mouthpiece directly in front of your mouth with BOTH hands as you speak and next to your ear when you are trying to listen.....ALL WHILE ON SPEAKERPHONE. Pointless.