Go F**k Yourself Friday…the Graduation Edition

In this week’s edition of Go F**k Yourself Friday, I’d like to dedicate the column to parents of kids all over our country celebrating one of the biggest milestones in their life. Well, some of them are. But for the others, this one’s for you.

Go F**k Yourself to the Doggy Obedience School who Has a Graduation Ceremony -Truth be told, when my puppy got to have her picture taken with a graduation cap for learning how to sort of not pee on a carpet, I was pretty excited for her graduation but then reality set in. I paid about $200 for a class where my dog still wasn’t house broken, she was tough to walk and constantly whined until we gave her a treat. Then there was the time she ate my computer keyboard and had the runs for a week. That’s like allowing someone with a D average to graduate. Totally not cool. The good news is, she’s finally house broken but she recently ate a piece of tin foil. No matter how hard we try, Santana will never be a straight A student.

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Go F**k Yourself to Pre-School and Kindergarten Graduation – Another cute as a button moment that truly trivializes what it means to graduate from school. Honestly, if a kid can’t even read yet, then they don’t deserve to wear a cap and gown. Let’s stop celebrating kids every time they get a year older so that by the time they do graduate from high school or college, they will really appreciate it.

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Go F**k Yourself to Parents who Buy their Kids Cars for Graduation – Seriously? You had to buy your kid a convertible Jeep for graduation? I’m sure your kid is thrilled with his new wheels but you just make it tough for the rest of us who have to explain to our kids that they’re just going to have to share the car with us until we qualify for social security.

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Go F**k Yourself to Bills, Bills and More Bills – The high school graduation is a distant memory and you’ve already got an email from your kids’ new college that the tuition bill is due. The next thing you know, your kid is hounding you about getting all their dorm stuff together and within seconds, you’ve just dropped several hundred dollars on a monochromatic comforter and a few throw pillows from Dormify. Then there’s the marathon shopping spree at Bed, Bath & Beyond where I forgot my coupons and we bought the wrong size sheets. Seriously, I know graduation is code word for kiss your money goodbye but I wish these schools would give us a day or two to breathe in between graduation, orientation and move in day.

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Go F**k Yourself Uber – For parents with kids who have graduated high school and are now enrolled in college, Uber will become the bane of your existence. Every time you look at your phone, you will inevitably see that Uber notification pop up and that’s probably because your kid doesn’t want to walk to class in the rain; went to a late night party or just felt like ordering Uber Eats instead of using the money you have already set aside for their meal plan. I never realized how something so convenient could totally suck away cash I wasn’t intending to spend in the first place. A word of advice to parents of kids with an Uber account – make sure they link it to their bank account and not yours. Trust me, they’ll be walking a lot more once they realize that the Uber is on them.

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If you’re the parent of a recent graduate, I want to wish you only the best. Enjoy this very special time before they move on to the next chapter of their lives. And if you’re the parent of a kindergarten graduate, make sure you start their 529 plan and don’t introduce them to Uber until they get a job.

Go F**k Yourself Friday the Holiday Weekend Edition

Summer is finally here and that means one thing. Most people I know are making plans for road trips, barbecues and beaches. Sadly, my plans this year don’t include any of those things. And so, I present to you Go F**k Yourself the Holiday Weekend Edition.

Go F**k Yourself to the People Who Bought My Parents Hamptons House – In a previous column, I took aim at my parents’ realtor so today, as I think about the countless summers I got to spend in the Hamptons, I’m cursing the people who will get to spend their weekend in what used to be my family’s summer getaway. Sure, it’s not your fault you wanted to get a nice place in Southampton but that means there will be no more visits to my favorite boutique, no more Sunday mornings at the Farmers Market and no more lobster at Oakland’s with a view of the Long Island Sound. Yes, I know these are totally first world problems but there’s something to be said about having a Hamptons house. I guess next time around, we need to buy our own. Time to purchase some scratch off tickets because that won’t be happening anytime soon.

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Go F**k Yourself Party Hosts with Out of Control Kids – I know that when it’s a holiday weekend you’re not supposed to complain when your neighbors invite all their friends over for a huge barbecue but here’s the problem. First, everyone parks their car in front of our house which riles up our dog because she thinks someone is coming to visit. Except they’re not. Next, you’ve invited a ton of families with little kids and since we don’t have a fence, they are running all over our yard, jumping on the trampoline we haven’t used in years and using the swing set and monkey bars that could very well be infected with termites. We wouldn’t know since our kids haven’t used those in 10 years either. But it gets better. Your party goes on all day into the night and while you and your friends head inside, your kids are still running around and screaming at the top of their lungs even though it’s 1:00 am. Seriously, if you’re going to host a barbecue – either invite me to it or tell your kids to stay the hell off my jungle gym.

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Go F**k Yourself Loud Beachgoers – You get to the beach after everyone has claimed their perfect spot and you camp out within inches of our blankets and lounge chairs. You then set up your portable speaker and sync your iPhone and within seconds, the peaceful sound we were enjoying of seagulls and crashing waves is rudely interrupted by Kanye West and some other rapper whose lyrics are laced with so many curse words that I can’t concentrate on my novel anymore. I know you think no one else exists except you, but newsflash…there’s a reason Dr. Dre invented Beats. Why not invest in a pair so we can go back to enjoying a peaceful day at the beach.

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Go F**k Yourself Highway Patrolmen with Ticket Quotas –  I know it’s important that we don’t speed, drink under the influence or text while driving out to the Hamptons or the Jersey Shore, but do you really need to do a random seatbelt check right when we get off the highway? It’s already taken us 39 hours to get out there but to cause a traffic jam just so you can make your ticket quota for the month really drives me to drink. Except I can’t since I’m driving. So there’s that.

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Go F**k Yourself to People Who Schedule Late Meetings on a Holiday Weekend – Just because you don’t have anywhere to go this weekend doesn’t mean the rest of us want to stick around for an afternoon powwow. The next time you decide to plan a meeting after 4pm on a holiday weekend, make sure you do it poolside with complimentary Mai Tais.

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On that note, no matter where you go or what you do, I hope you have a fantastic Memorial Day weekend!

Go F**k Yourself Friday the Small Business Edition

If you’re a small business owner, then you’ve probably experienced a lot of headaches along the road to success. Don’t get me wrong, there are days when I’m walking on a cloud because I’ve landed a huge placement and other times, I just want to pack it in and open a flower shop. When those moments arise, I do what I do best….write. Without further ado, I present, Go F**k Yourself Friday, the Small Business Edition!

Go F**k Yourself to the “ROI” Client – As a publicist, it’s sometimes difficult to measure how a media placement can immediately lead to sales. In some cases, it’s pretty straight forward – an author appears on a TV show and they see a spike in Amazon sales. But in other instances, it’s really tough to predict what will motivate someone to buy a product. That’s why every time a client is fixated on ROI (return on investment) I know I am doomed. When you hire a publicist it’s like going to Vegas and playing the slots. Sometimes you’ll win a bunch of quarters, other times you’ll keep feeding the beast and every once in a while, you’ll hit the jackpot. If you don’t have the stomach for gambling, then please do us both a favor and don’t hire me. But if you’re ready for a fun ride, then hit me up with some quarters and let’s do this!

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Go F**k Yourself to Subscription Services that Suck Away My Cash – I finally bit the bullet and cancelled a Quickbooks account for a business I have that’s no longer generating revenue. But it took me several months to finally log onto my Quickbooks account and figure out how to cancel it in the first place. That’s the thing about expensive subscription services – they hide their cancellation button so well that you just decide to give up and keep paying the fees. Thankfully, I took the time to finally cut the cord and am glad I’m not flushing cash down the toilet anymore.

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Go F**k Yourself to Clients Who Trade Chickens in Lieu of Checks  – I keep hearing from friends that instead of paying them what they are worth, their clients are offering them a free hotel stay, a fancy dinner, or free haircuts for life. While it’s always wonderful to have perks in your life, perks don’t pay the bills. I’d rather pay my own way, get paid for what I’m worth and then pay my bills on time.

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Go F**k Yourself to Big Clients Who Take Forever to Pay– There is nothing worse than landing a new client who takes advantage of your good nature and decides to pay you on their timeline – which can sometimes be a month from now, 60 days away and in some cases, never. If you were on a construction site and didn’t pay your workers, do you think they’d come back each day to operate the crane? I don’t think so. Pay up or stop wasting my time.

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Go F**k Yourself to Toxic Clients – I learned this lesson a few years ago when a client would literally interrogate my team during meetings and her yelling and verbal abuse became so intense that we actually fired her. No matter what someone is willing to pay, there is nothing worse than getting sucked into the world of someone with a toxic personality. If you meet a client who is prone to yelling, belittling your work or just being rude to you no matter what you to do, then life is too short. Fire them first before they fire you.

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And on that note, it’s time to start the weekend. Yabba Dabba Doo…I’m outta here!

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Go F**k Yourself Friday the Mother’s Day Edition

Well, it’s that time of year again where moms everywhere are celebrated but for some of us, even Mother’s Day has a way of pissing us off…

Go F**k Yourself to Prix Fixe brunches – Why is it that on Mother’s Day, the price of a regular brunch is triple the price just because you’re celebrating moms? If you really want to pay tribute to me, then all moms should get free bottomless mimosas. Now that’s a promotion I can get behind.

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Go F**k Yourself Flower Companies – I know I waited until the last minute to send my mom a gift and that means the only thing that will arrive on time is a bouquet of flowers that I can have delivered to her home this weekend, but that comes with a $20 surcharge. Yes I know I could be better at buying gifts in advance, but it’s like those flower companies prey on people like me who are notoriously late purchasing gifts for their mothers. Cut me some slack and for that extra $20, throw in a few more roses instead.

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Go F**k Yourself Greeting Card Companies – I don’t know what’s happening with greeting cards these days but why does it seem like it’s always slim pickings for Mother’s Day? There used to be a time where I’d find my signature Peanuts card in record time, write a little note inside and be on my merry way. These days, the cards are so boring, sappy and loud (what’s with all those cards with the blaring music) that I just want to go back to the days when cards said something sweet and funny and didn’t cost a fortune. Don’t even get me started with card stores like Papyrus which suck you in because they have beautiful cards but they’re a small fortune and while you’re waiting at the register, you wind up buying an inappropriate joke book and a notepad laced with your favorite curse words. 

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Go F**k Yourself Dirty Laundry – The problem with Mother’s Day is that it takes place on a Sunday and the problem with Sunday is that’s the day I typically do laundry. So if I’m supposed to technically take a day off so I can be pampered by my family, either someone is going to be missing clean underwear or their favorite shirt won’t be clean in time for brunch. Sure, I know I just have to teach my family how to wash their own clothes but it’s just easier for me to complain about how much laundry I have to do and then make them feel bad for me. Damn you laundry. Every time the pile seems to be getting smaller, my son takes another shower and the towel collection just continues to grow. 

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Go F**k Yourself Indecisive Shoppers – When I go into a store to buy a gift, I am a woman on a mission. Mom likes pins, my mother-in-law loves flashy earrings, my cousin loves cookbooks and I’m on my way. Except the woman in front of me is taking her sweet time at the jewelry display cabinet asking the sales girl to show her at least a dozen pieces and she still can’t make a decision. When I give up and try to find another salesperson, they just went on break and now I can’t take a look at anything in her cabinet. And when I’m at Barnes & Noble, the line is so damn long to buy one book that I decide instead to go to CVS to pick up a gift card. If people could just get their s**t together, find a gift, pay for it and leave, the world would be a much happier place. 

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In all seriousness, hope you and your family have a fabulous Mother’s Day no matter what you do. Now I better getting going so I can start shopping for some gifts. 

Go F**k Yourself Friday…the Politician Edition

For the most part, our columns try not to take any political sides because thankfully, we have fans on both sides of the aisle. With that in mind, I’ve decided to delve into politics in a way where we can still call out bad behavior no matter your party affiliation. So without further ado, I present to you, Go F**k Yourself Friday, the Politician Edition…

Go F**k Yourself to the I’m Going to Call Out a Random Guy Politician – You have probably seen this dozens of times but don’t even realize it’s part of a formula for the perfect political speech. Mention the name of some poor schnook you met in the middle of nowhere. Share his story of how he and his family are just struggling to survive ever since he was downsized at the coal mine. Share some random statistics about how many people can’t find jobs now that they’re being replaced by robots and then end with how you’re going to fix the problem. Boom! You just learned speechwriting 101 for politicians. Make it personal, add a dose of stats and then promise something you know you probably won’t deliver. 

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Go F**k Yourself to the Blow Smoke Up My Butt Politician – Free college tuition for everyone! Health care for all! Everyone gets a job! You get a car, she gets a car, sure you can’t drive, but you get a car too! I have to admit – I would love to not fork over my life savings to fund college for my two kids and health insurance for my family but I am realistic and know that if someone could come in and just devise a way to lower the costs significantly, I would totally appreciate that too. I’m not an all or nothing kind of person — save me some money, and I’ll support you for life but if you promise me the moon and deliver air instead, then peace out, I have to go pay some bills.

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Go F**k Yourself to the Will You Donate to My Campaign Politician – I totally get it. You need to fund your campaign but just because someone somewhere got their grubby hands on my email address doesn’t mean you need to send me emails every single day asking for money. If I don’t respond the first or fifth or hundredth time, it’s time to take a hint. Less is more. If you stop spamming me so much, maybe I’ll consider tossing some change your way. All I want now is to hit unsubscribe.

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Go F**k Yourself to the Flip Flopper Politician – There’s nothing more that drives me nuts than when I see video of a politician bashing a person who clearly has no moral compass only to see him cozy up to him and be his biggest defender because he’s either being blackmailed or has lost his cotton picking mind. Either way, I’d love to fast forward to 2024 to see if you really like the person you now play golf with on a regular basis or will you be flip flopping again when he no longer is relevant to your existence.

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Go F**k Yourself to the Kill them With Kindness Politician – If you are way too nice to me then I’m going to tell you right now, I don’t trust you. I mean, I can be happy too but on most days, I get pissed off a lot. There’s no way I can smile when people are feeding me a line of BS. Sometimes, you just can’t be nice to everyone – especially if they are not being nice to you. 

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Go F**k Yourself Friday…the Hurry up and Wait Edition

When one of our pipes broke the morning of Passover this year, I realized how lucky I am that technology has enabled me to find plumbers, upholstery cleaners and appliance repairmen at a moment’s notice. I also have discovered that the easier it is to find people to fix things, there are plenty more who still drive me bonkers because they are like speed bumps – I may be driving at 60 mph but BAM! out of nowhere I hit a speed bump and everything just stops. In honor of all those human speed bumps who drive impatient people like me crazy, I present to you, Go F**k Yourself Friday, the hurry up and wait edition…

Go F**k Yourself Roto Rooter – You totally took advantage of me when I first moved into my house and didn’t know a good plumber after the previous owner’s kid flushed a pen down the toilet and clogged the whole system. Roto Rooter sounded familiar so I flipped through the phone book (remember those days) and the Roto Rooter service man came over within a few hours, diagnosed the problem and then charged us an arm, a leg and the name of our first born to fix it. Fast forward to Passover morning when I instantly found a very nice plumber on Thumbtack, he proceeded to stop by within an hour of our corresponding and quoted me a totally reasonable price to fix my pipes. Sayonara Roto Rooter – looks like your price gauging plumbing disaster days are over. 

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Go F**k Yourself Bank Rep Who Wanted to Eat Lunch Instead of Deal With Me – Truth be told, I hardly visit my local bank anymore. I can deposit checks from my phone and pay bills online so I really have no need to stop inside and speak to someone. But this week, I needed to get one document notarized and also had to get a letter from the bank as part of my daughter’s student visa application. What I thought would take 10 minutes turned into a 90 minute ordeal when I stopped into my local bank and it felt like a ghost town. As I looked around for someone to help me a woman who was returning with her lunch proceeded to tell me they didn’t have a notary on staff and I needed to get that letter via online customer service and not at my local bank branch. She then sent me to another location to get the letter notarized and when I got there, their notary told me she couldn’t do it. Thankfully, I did get the other letter I needed which means the bank rep at the first branch just didn’t want to deal with me in the first place. Listen up bank reps – if I hardly every visit your bank, you may want to be a little more helpful when I stop by for something important. Otherwise, I will close my accounts and take my business to a place where people are more than happy to help me with whatever I ask for. Incidentally, when my bank wouldn’t notarize my letter, we walked over to HSBC and one of their reps did it instead – even though I don’t even have a bank account at their bank. Hey there reps at my current bank, I’ve got some choice words for you but I’m going to let Julia Roberts do it for me…

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Go F**k Yourself to the Pricey Salad Place in my Neighborhood where the workers always seem to be filling online orders instead of waiting on customers who are literally staring at them in the face. There’s a well known franchise in my area that makes ridiculously expensive salads that I typically cave in and visit at least once a week. However, it’s been pretty frustrating lately trying to get the workers’ attention because they always seem to be filling orders for people who aren’t even there. You see, even though the place has been empty on the few occasions I have visited, the salad makers behind the counter always seemed preoccupied fulfilling online orders, so I stand there like an idiot waiting at least five minutes to place my romaine lettuce with grilled shrimp, tomatoes, cucumbers, apples and Greek yogurt dressing because someone ahead of me who isn’t even there is having their salad made because they ordered it first on their app. Seriously, if you see a real live person staring you in the face waiting to place an order, then stop what you are doing and take care of them. I don’t care if people are ordering from Uber Eats, Door Dash, Postmates or the app for your pricey salad joint – if you see me, ask me what I want NOW or you probably won’t see me again…at least not until next week. 

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Go F**k Yourself to Ride Share Drivers Who Say they are 3 minutes away but it’s more like 10 – here’s another pet peeve of mine. If it’s cold or rainy outside, the last thing I want to be is standing outside braving the elements because my Uber driver claims to be three minutes from picking me up. As I stare at the app watching as his car goes backwards and forwards and then backwards again, I’m left wondering what the hell that driver is doing. Even though the app keeps saying he’s 3 minutes away, suddenly, it increases to 4, then 8 then back to 6 and back up to 10. It’s one thing if it’s 70 degrees and I’m enjoying the fresh air but if all I want to do is get in a car so I can warm up, don’t tell me you’re around the corner when you’re clearly lost, dropping off another passenger or just too damn slow.

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Go F**k Yourself to the ‘I’ll Be there Tomorrow’ Guy – I happen to have many of these people in my life. Something breaks down in my house and Mr. Fixit assures me that he’ll be there tomorrow morning. But then the morning passes by and he says he’ll be there later in the day. And one day leads into the next and soon another week goes by until suddenly, when you’re nowhere near your house, the repairman shows up and wonders where you are and why you weren’t waiting around for him. Here’s the deal. I don’t work well with people who say they’ll be there that day and don’t show up for another two to three weeks. If I’m not home when you finally decide to stop by, I guess I’m going to have to deal with going yet another day with a broken appliance and you’re going to have to deal with not being paid because I’m not there. Here’s a piece of advice, when you tell someone you’re going to be at their house the same day, don’t leave them waiting, wondering and checking to see if you’re receiving their urgent texts. Ditch the excuses and just show up!

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Go F**k Yourself Friday – the week of WTF

Sometimes, a series of events happen throughout the week that cause you to give people the side eye while you make a mental note that they just made it into your column without them even realizing it. So this week, as I juggled work and life events that kept me busy, annoyed and on my toes, I decided to devote this week’s column to the random acts of crazy that made me stop a minute and say WTF?

Go F**k Yourself to Politically Correct College Tour Guides – I’d like to start this missive by first saying, I am totally on board the politically correct bandwagon, but sometimes, I think my progressive friends have seriously gone off the deep end and this week was no exception. While at a college tour with my son, four of the tour guides introduced themselves by stating their names and they added that they go by the pronouns “He, him, his” or “Her or she.” I looked at my son and asked him, is this a thing now? Because, honestly if it is, I’d like to be addressed as “Miss,” “Hey lady,” “Bitch” but whatever you do, don’t ever think of calling me ma’am. 

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Go F**k Yourself to the Second Guesser – You haven’t worked in my industry for at least half a dozen years and yet, you decide to start questioning my work and then insult me in an email and cc my client. You know what? What if I take a little break and you take over from here? Just use your rotary phone to call your contacts who no longer have landlines, don’t respond to emails or are out of work looking for jobs too. Don’t ever claim you know how to do my job unless you’re in the trenches right along side me. Otherwise, STFU and get out of my way.

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Go F**k Yourself to the Steamroller – I used to work with someone who would literally push you out of the way if it meant she would get ahead faster than you. While the people around her were minding their business and doing their jobs, she used her connections and pushy attitude to get whatever she wanted and didn’t care if she stepped on her co-workers along the way. This week, I met someone who totally reminded me of the steamroller and as I watched her in action, it took me back to those awful days when I always found myself watching my back. The good news is, I’m my own boss now and she’s someone else’s nightmare, not mine.

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Go F**k Yourself to People with Hidden Agendas – This past week, I invited a few media contacts and bloggers to a really fun event and for the most part, everyone was really nice, had a great time and wrote positively about their experience. But there always has to be a few bad apples in the bunch and this was no exception. First, there was the pushy paparazzi photographer whose unflattering video promoting the event literally made me cringe. When I told him to take it down, he then got mad at me because he said it took him an hour to create it. Well, take 5 seconds to delete it and you’ll make my day. Then, a reporter who works for a major gossip magazine interviewed my client and proceeded to write something that had absolutely nothing to do with the event I had invited her to see. Lesson learned – even though it’s great when people say they’d love to attend an event, sometimes you’re just better off telling them to stay home or attend another event where they can totally annoy someone else.

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Go F**k Yourself to Supermarkets with Super Small Kosher for Passover Selections – For my fellow tribe members who host seders this time of year, is it just me or have supermarkets really started carrying less and less Passover fare? I mean, I shouldn’t have to travel to three supermarkets to find a jar of red horseradish and would it kill you to carry something other than coconut macaroons? This week, after striking out three times on the horseradish, I finally broke down and went to the uber expensive kosher supermarket that just opened in my neighborhood. Not only did I find the horseradish, but I even tracked down two packages of pupiks for my grandmother’s classic fricassee recipe. Granted, when I asked one of the workers if they carried pupiks, he looked at me like I was nuts but I was determined. Plus, I knew there was no way my neighborhood supermarket carried pupiks since I’m lucky if they carried gefilte fish. Thankfully, after searching through one of their freezers, I struck pay dirt and found the pupiks myself. Here’s the deal with Passover – if you work in a kosher supermarket, when Passover is around the corner, you need to brush up on some Yiddish food lingo stat. And if you’re the store manager for Stop & Shop or ACME, it’s time to give Passover an entire aisle and not just three shelves filled with gluten free matzoh, white horseradish and borscht. For the record, while the Catskills might have been known as the “Borscht Belt” during the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel era, no one I know eats borscht at their seder. Now pupiks on the other hand…that’s a whole different story.

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And on that note, I have to go make some matzoh ball soup. Happy Holidays!!!

Go F**k Yourself Friday…the Distracted Edition

These days, it’s literally impossible to have a conversation with people because they are either texting someone, scrolling their social media feed or they’ve zoned out thinking about their weekend plans. Without further ado, it’s time to call out all those F**kers who don’t have time to pay attention.

Go F**k Yourself to the Person Who Texts During a Meeting You just landed a new meeting with a potential client and you’re about to present to the team. The problem is, half the people in the room are attached to their phones and can’t pay attention to what you’re saying since they’re too busy planning their wedding, a Bar Mitzvah or just figuring out what they’re having for dinner. If you’re required to attend meetings, then put the phone down for once and listen!

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Go F**k Yourself to the Person who takes phone calls in restaurants – You’re in a cozy restaurant with your significant other and the tables are thisclose together. The ceilings are also pretty high so you feel like you’re in an echo chamber and can’t hear yourself speak. And then the girl next to you picks up her phone and starts up-talking with her friend (translation: ends every sentence with a question even though she’s not actually asking any questions at all).  You’re still waiting for your appetizers to arrive and she doesn’t seem to be hanging up any time soon. If your phone rings, don’t answer and proceed to talk for 10 minutes while your partner stares at you or the people next to you eavesdrop. Stand up, walk outside and take your calls in private!

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Go F**k Yourself to People Who Don’t Read Anymore – there are a few new abbreviations I recently heard about from a friend who told me that if you send someone an email and it’s longer than one paragraph, nine times out of 10, they won’t read it. In fact, the practice of not reading long emails is called TLDR (too long, didn’t read). For those of you who don’t have 60 seconds to read, comprehend and respond, seriously, take a break and get a grip. Sure my message may be a little long winded, but it’s not like I’m asking you to read Gone with the Wind.

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Go F**k Yourself to the Guy in Front of Me Who is Clearly Texting and Driving – the light has been green for at least 10 seconds and yet, you’re still not moving. Could it be that you’ve been too busy scrolling your Facebook feed to realize that you just caused a traffic jam? You are not the only one on the road and the world won’t fall apart if you don’t like or heart an Instagram post. Put the phone down and drive!

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Go F**k Yourself to the Person Who Has No Time for Small Talk – You and I aren’t friends but you still begrudgingly walk over to me with that fake grin plastered on your face and give me an air kiss. I can clearly see you are looking over my head hoping you can talk to someone else but I try to make small talk nevertheless. If you really don’t want to talk to me, then seriously, don’t even say hello in the first place.  To be honest, I’d rather stick needles in my eyes then have a conversation with you anyway.

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Hope you have a fantastic distraction-free weekend. I’m going to try to read a book, not look at my phone and maybe have a conversation without texting in between. Oh who am I kidding? I am so not doing any of those things. Better go refresh my social media feed before we hit the restaurant!

Go F**k Yourself Friday…the Furniture and Appliance Edition

Truth be told, I have had a lot of topics that were rattling in my brain lately and I really wanted to channel that anger and frustration into this week’s column, but like a fine wine, I think my toxic thoughts need to simmer a bit before they become funny. And so, I decided instead to tackle a topic that everyone can relate to whether you own a home, rent a home or live in an apartment. So without further ado, I present to you Go F**k Yourself Friday the furniture and appliance edition.

Go F**k Yourself to the moving company that was oh so nice to my dad when he was moving all his stuff to my cousin’s house, my house and his place in Florida. Anything he wanted, no problem, they’d take care of it. But when they delivered his entertainment center to my house with a HUGE scratch on one of the doors, my dad gave me their number to call because they told him they’d fix anything that broke or had an issue. When I called them and emailed a photo of the damage, they said they’d get right on it. That was seven days ago. Today I called again and got a busy signal. What is this, 1985? I haven’t experienced a busy signal since I had a rotary phone in my bedroom – and that was in Canarsie when I lived with my parents! Get it together movers and fix my furniture or else I’m going to keep calling, emailing and texting until you get back to me. Busy signals do not scare me!

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Go F**k Yourself Slipcover Company and other products that are supposed to deter my cats from wrecking my furniture but never seem to work. This past week, after my parents gave me a few couches and a bed, it only took a few days for my cats to start making trouble. First they began digging their claws into the arms of my new sofa. Then they left their mark on the bedding and mattress upstairs. Eventually, their cat hair was tracking every piece of furniture we just added to the living room and den. And so, I did what any person who is trying to outsmart her pets would do. I ordered pet slip covers from Sure Fit and bought sticky tape from the pet store. After the slipcovers arrived, I put them on the couches but the cats managed to still claw at the only parts that weren’t covered – the arms. So I put the sticky tape on those parts and by the time I came home last night from an event, the tape was already peeling off. As far as the bed upstairs, my only saving grace is I can close the doors to keep them out. But either way, no matter how much I spend on trying to protect my furniture, nothing is going to help. Those cats are always two steps and three claws ahead of me and it drives me nuts.

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Go F**k Yourself Washer & Dryer that always breaks down right after the warranty runs out. Out of all the appliances in my house, the one thing I have had to replace over and over again has been my washing machine and dryer. I know that we do a lot of laundry each week, but the washer really shouldn’t be filled with water after the spin cycle is done and it shouldn’t take 90 minutes to dry socks. Sure, they don’t make appliances like they used to, but we shouldn’t have to replace them every 2-3 years like an iPhone. Just let me throw the stuff in and clean my clothes already. Oh and if someone can come up with an appliance that folds laundry and puts it away, I’ll take that too.

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Go F**k Yourself Refrigerators with Really Small Freezers. Sure, the double door refrigerator seemed like such a cute choice when we picked it out at the appliance store but then we brought it home and found out that we can’t open the freezer door all the way since it slams against the wall. Then, every time I forget that I have already bought a box of Elio’s pizza for my son, I have to figure out how to fit all those frozen boxes in the fridge like I’m putting together a Jenga puzzle or something. One false move and the chicken, meatballs and frozen shrimp will come tumbling out of the bottom shelf. One day, I’ll get one of those fridges with a big bottom freezer. For now, it’s shove everything in and hope that my Halo Top ice cream doesn’t melt.

Go F**k Yourself in Advance to my Heat and AC Unit. You’ve literally been hanging by a thread every year and each time our plumber comes over for yet another repair he warns that this could be the year we need to replace you. Yet, we still hang on, hoping you’ll survive another season. Whether it’s the coldest day of the year or it feels like we’re living in a sauna, that’s exactly when my HVAC unit decides to crap out on me. Unfortunately, my plumber now has a full time job so he fits me in about two weeks after I text him that we have lost feeling in our lower extremities. Sure all we have to do is throw on a few more sweaters or buy a fan, but I just want to be able to turn on the heat or AC without it involving a prayer session.

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Go F**K Yourself Friday…the Special Guest Edition

First, let me just say that I am aware that it’s Saturday. Truth be told – I have been pretty busy these past few weeks and sadly, I was unable to make my self imposed Friday deadline for the column. However, I am truly lucky to have friends who are even better writers than I am and one of them submitted this fantastic work of comic genius that I’m sharing with all of you as you get ready to start your weekend.

Today’s Go F**k Yourself Friday column has been submitted by Loyal reader Angry McAngerson

You know what I hate? Well, besides EVERYTHING, I have simmering contempt for people unqualified for their jobs but who we have to encounter/ work with anyway. As if life isn’t annoying enough.

Like the woman at Fedex Kinkos who manages not just the copy machines, laminators, hole punchers and the package counter but also takes Passport photos. No wonder I looked like Fred Flintsone after a Night at the Roxbury. I know it’s unrealistic to have hair and make-up at the counter, but when the artistes at the DMV do it better, you ought to re-evaluate your skill set. Stick to changing toner and keep your ink-stained hands off my unflattering portrait, which will now follow me for 10 years in my passport.

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Also, the millennial who knows every shared doc, box, spreadsheet and track changed but not how to do his/ her job. Enough with the action items, deliverables and calendar updates. I don’t need a Google Playroom or Hang Out chat to understand you can’t do your job: I’ve known that from the start. And I’m sending you an Outlook reminder saying so.

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Or the cute-as-a-bug bartender who is better at drinking cocktails than making them. Looking adorable does not excuse you from making our drinks. Especially when it’s simple as a scotch on the rocks. It’s easy: see that bottle with the giant letters spelling Scotch? There! That’s it. Whew, you’re good. Now raise and pour. And, btw: a “rock” is an ice cube, not what Carrie Bradshaw didn’t want to wear on her finger after Aidan proposed.

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I love a good hotel concierge. Emphasis on “good” because they’re mostly terrible. Scrolling Google does not a concierge make, sorry! And don’t even start with this Siri crap. A computer should not know a good restaurant – you should!

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I once worked with a woman who was so good at failing up, it would take six months to figure out she was incompetent … but by then she was on to the next position. All the while, she would try to cozy up to you as her new “bestie,” and with the sincerity of a Lori Loughlin application to college, would say “You know what you can do for me?” What, your job??? I was mortified to learn her upward trajectory has continued unabated, and she’s now second in command of a giant PR department. She is proof positive in the peter principle: everyone rises to their own level of incompetence. Except in her case, there’s no ceiling.

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We all appreciate electricity but ConEd should concentrate more on producing volts and less on hiring dolts. Especially in the customer service department. (Un)helpful Mike was happy to assist with my call, except couldn’t verify my identification because my birthdate was wrong. It couldn’t possibly be that he had incorrect information, it had to be that I have been wrong all this time. The problem with stupid-heads in positions of power, though, is this: with one touch of a button he could shut off my power, so I bit my tongue and said “you know, you might be right: it must be the giant stroke I suffered just as I was prompted to say my birthdate. What was my name again?”

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And on that note, we’ll be back next Friday with another edition of Go F**k Yourself Friday!