Posted on

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!

via GIPHY

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!

via GIPHY

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.

via GIPHY

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!

via GIPHY

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.

via GIPHY

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!

Posted on

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!

via GIPHY

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.

via GIPHY

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.

via GIPHY

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.

via GIPHY

Posted on

Go F**k Yourself Friday…the Pet Peeve Edition

These last few weeks have been a bit stressful to the point where things that usually roll off my shoulders really got under my skin. But that means all of you are in luck this week because I am sure you have all experienced these annoyances in our lives that force us to silently scream at someone in our heads even though we’d really love to go postal and make a scene. And on that note, I present to you dear readers, Go F**k Yourself, the Pet Peeve edition!

Go F**k Yourself to the person who never responds to my emails when I request something from them. Yes, I know there are people out there who just don’t read emails or don’t respond to texts that I know they have read because it says “READ” after I sent it. They go through their day ignoring incoming messages and when they look back at their phone or computer a few hours later, they suddenly realize they have amassed about 100 emails and texts. They then spend the rest of the evening playing catch up and that one email that came in from me asking for something OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN somehow gets forgotten about until I am totally up against my deadline and then miraculously, after I send a terse – I NEED IT NOW or you won’t be included message, it suddenly shows up. I know not everyone can be like me and instantly respond to an email or text at a moment’s notice, but if I ask you a question and there’s a deadline attached to it, change the settings on your phone if you don’t want me to see that you’ve read my message or for F**k’s sake, JUST RESPOND!!!!!

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself to People who Display Bad Buffet Line Etiquette – For the record, I really don’t like buffets – I like to sit down, place an order, enjoy conversation with my friends and family and not deal with other people I don’t know. But when you’re on a buffet line, all bets are off. From the super slow senior who is taking his time deciding between the salmon and the whitefish salad, to the double dipper who grabs a veggie stick, dips it in ranch dressing, takes a bite and then dips it again, to the buffet tray hog who sees the hostess coming his way and cleans her out of pigs in blankets, when you’re on a buffet line, I’ve got a newsflash for you…you’re not the only one there! Move it along Gramps, dip once or put a dollop of dressing on your plate and whatever you do, don’t ransack the cocktail frank tray – you know everyone loves them, except the vegans – so let the rest of us carnivores enjoy the appetizers and take two or three for yourself.

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself to Urgent Emails from Politicians – I know I’m back to emails, but since I spend so much time online and I just checked my email, I had to call this one out too. I know that politicians have a hard time reaching voters but for some reason, my name has wound up on so many email lists that I can’t keep track of how many people want money from me. It’s urgent! The world is about to fall apart! You must do this now or else we stand to lose everything! Or my personal favorite, the subject line that seems like it’s from my best friend but in actuality, it’s from the Cheri Bustos campaign. Who the hell is Cheri Bustos anyway and how did I even get on her list??? Before I start unsubscribing from all those political e-blasts, here’s my word of advice to politicians – do not send me a message every single day of the week. I know you want my donation but if you keep asking, you will get what Grandma Dora used to say to people who pissed her off: Ice in Winter. 

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself to People Who Cancel Commitments at the Last Minute Due to “Family Emergencies” Now don’t get me wrong – if you truly are experiencing a family emergency, I have no problem accepting the fact that you won’t be able to make it to work today. But if you are on your fifth family emergency of the month, then something tells me you either have a lot of drama going on at home or you need to come up with way better excuses for why you can’t get your a** to your job like everyone else. Better to tell the truth about why you can’t honor a commitment than wait until the last minute to drop a bomb on someone who was totally counting on you.

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself to People Who Are All Talk and No Action – If anyone knows me, I’m a person who gets s**t done. You give me the goods to be successful on a project and nine times out of 10, I will get results that will blow you away. But on those occasions when I have to work with people who do nothing but bark orders and give me nothing back in return, I find myself counting the days until the project is over.  The problem with people who make ridiculous demands but do nothing to support their team, is that in the end, we all know you are an asshole.

via GIPHY

Posted on

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.

via GIPHY

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.

via GIPHY

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.

via GIPHY

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!

via GIPHY

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.

via GIPHY

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?”

via GIPHY

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

Posted on

Go F**k Yourself Friday…the College Prep Edition

I’m sure you probably have heard about the college admissions cheating scandal that has singlehandedly destroyed the reputations of actors, CEO’s, coaches, test prep administrators and students whose parents wanted to guarantee that their kids would get into the college of their dreams.  As someone who has watched her own kids get rejected from teams and programs they had their heart set on, I figured it was high time to give us all a reality check on life. So without further ado, I present Go F**k Yourself Friday, the College Prep Edition…

Go F**k Yourself Lori Loughlin and Felicity Huffman – Seriously, ladies. You always played the nice characters on some of my favorite shows like “Full House” and “Desperate Housewives.” No one would ever suspect that Becky or Lynette would stoop so low as to pay someone off to get their spoiled brat into college, but you two did it. Sure, my friends and I can somewhat relate, having shelled out a boat load of cash for test prep classes for our kids, but I’m not about to back up a Brinks truck full of money and hand over a few hundred thousand to a guy who will get someone to dress up like my kid and take the SAT, or grease the palms of a college coach and pass them off as a member of Crew team when they probably haven’t rowed a boat in their life. Life isn’t about faking it until you make it. It’s about falling flat on your ass and starting all over again.

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself to Luxury Community Service Teen Tours  Your kid hasn’t volunteered for anything the entire time they’ve been in high school and those college application deadlines are looming and you need to come up with something fast. After searching online, you find a teen tour offering trips to the South of France where your daughter can help assemble boats for sea captains in need. Once you’ve booked the trip, you decide to rent a yacht where you pick up your kid halfway through their community service adventure so you can spend the rest of the summer shopping and sailing your way through Europe.

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself to the SAT, ACT, SAT 1, 2, 49 and Beyond – When are schools going to finally throw out those ridiculous standardized exams that measure whether our kids should be candidates for Mensa just so they can attend a competitive college? Every time a kid gets a decent score, those testing companies move the goal posts. Unless you crack a 1400 on your SAT or score a 34 on your ACT, don’t even bother applying to one of those brand name schools that every parent from Scarsdale to Westport wants their kid to attend. 

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself Parents that Don’t Have to Fill Out FAFSA Forms – Kudos to you if you have saved up enough money in your kids’ 529 plan to pay for college or get a million dollar bonus every year because you work at a hedge fund that’s heavily invested in pharma companies, but for the rest of us who needed that quarter of a million dollars to live this past decade, go F**k Yourself! I seriously am envious of anyone who has never had to spend hours completing a FAFSA application. From forgetting my password every single time, to constantly receiving alerts from my daughter’s school that we need to file more IRS forms or check five more boxes or solve the pythagorean theorem while hopping on one leg, I seriously would rather have root canal than fill out that dreaded FAFSA application every year. 

via GIPHY

 Go F**k Yourself to the Marketing Teams at Colleges My Kid Will Never Get Into – I have to admit, I was a bit giddy when my son received letters from Princeton, University of Chicago and even Columbia inviting him to check out their schools, but let’s be real. He’s a smart kid but they know as well as we do that he’s not getting in. They just want to get their application numbers up so they can share that 39,000 people applied to their schools and they only accepted 12. I’m not falling for it Princeton even though I might just frame your letter for kicks.

via GIPHY

Posted on

Go F**k Yourself Friday…the Jug Handle Edition

After spending a weekend in Florida and then coming back to NYC to frigid temps and faulty GPS, I decided to devote this week’s column to the things that drive me nuts when I’m driving anywhere that’s outside of my neighborhood. For those of you who can feel my pain, this one’s for you.

Go F**k Yourself to the person who designed “roundabouts” – If you’ve never driven around a roundabout, here’s my beef. Your GPS might tell you to make the third right turn after the roundabout but if it’s late at night and someone just rang your phone and your struggling to see where you’re going, you will miss that exit and find yourself being re-routed – over and over again. I have officially decided that if I ever do retire to Florida, I will not live near any roundabout. I guess that means I’m never moving to Florida.

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself to the person who designed Jug Handles in New Jersey – if you hate roundabouts, you’ll probably hate jug handles even more and here’s why. You already missed your exit while on a long road that’s filled with strip malls and all you want to do is make a U Turn but you can’t do that for miles. That is, until you hit the jug handle – which always comes up out of nowhere and if you miss it, you’ll be forced to keep driving for another five miles until the next one pops up. Come on New Jersey! Just let me make a U Turn. Why does it have to be so difficult?

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself to Whoever Hung the Highway Signs in New Jersey – I know I seem to be taking aim at the Garden State this week but if you have ever tried to drive on the Jersey Turnpike, the signs are some of the most confusing ones I have ever seen in my life. Even my GPS gets confused too. Go right. No I mean, merge left. Take the express route then merge into the local lane. Go towards the Holland Tunnel but then before you actually drive into it, make a sharp left. OMG – just fix the damn signs before I wind up in Staten Island or Downtown Brooklyn!

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself GPS that Doesn’t Work in Downtown Manhattan – I know that working downtown is totally the place to be these days, but if you struggle figuring out where to walk after you’ve taken the subway to your destination, then I feel your pain. Just yesterday, I took the subway to Fulton street and then set my GPS so I could walk over to Liberty Street which my map told me was an easy breezy eight minute walk from the train station. The problem is, GPS doesn’t work really well downtown so instead of walking down Broadway, I went the wrong way down a narrow street and wound up by City Hall. I then hopped in a cab which got stuck in traffic and couldn’t go down a bunch of the streets and the next thing I knew, I was 20 minutes late to my appointment. AARGH!!!

via GIPHY

Here’s to a jug handle free weekend for you. Even better, just stay inside and don’t drive. It’ll do wonders for your blood pressure.

Posted on

Go F**k Yourself Friday…the Real Estate Edition

I would like to preface this week’s column by saying there are a lot of realtors who I adore. In fact, my own mother-in-law is a realtor and while she’s not a top seller, she has made lifelong friends as a result of the incredible connection she makes with buyers. Sure, many of them choose not to move or pick another state entirely, but I love the way my mother-in- law operates. She always puts people first and the deals second. And on that note, for every other realtor who is motivated by dollar signs, this week’s edition of Go F**k Yourself Friday was tailor made for you.

Go F Yourself to the Bait & Switch Realtor – You were supposed to rent my parents’ home in the Hamptons during the US Open and proceeded instead to convince them to sell it. While you couldn’t find a buyer as fast as you thought and my parents went back to Florida for the winter, you kept parading your prospects through the house until you finally made a deal. Now you’re giving my folks the bums rush to close just so you can get your commission check. Sure, my family will never get to spend time in the Hamptons again, but who cares about family traditions anyway? After persuading another pair of snowbirds to sell their gold mine and fly south for good, my parents’ realtor is doing the happy dance. For the record, I have two words to say to you and trust me, it’s not Happy Birthday.

via GIPHY

Go F Yourself to the Pushy Realtor – Several years ago, the #1 realtor in our area almost convinced me to sell my home. She took one look at our house and said we had to sell since there was no way we could send our kids to the school in our neighborhood and she tried to convince us to move to the more expensive part of town. Luckily, we didn’t take her advice because we would have totally been under water – and not due to a broken water heater. Instead, we put an extension on our house and just celebrated our 20th year living there. She’s still in business convincing people to move into homes they can’t afford. Sure, she’s made a bundle off the backs of unsuspecting buyers, but all that gets her is a big stack of money and an even bigger FU from me.

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself to the Apathetic Realtor – After I had done a Google search of where my daughter wanted to live off campus, I discovered that the apartment one of her roommates had found was next to a vacant lot, boarded up buildings and a bodega on the corner. When I called the realtor, whose office was right next door to the building and asked her to share a photo of the front of the place, she refused. Recently, when my daughter experienced roommate problems and had to move out and her apartment mates turned her room into a pot smoking den two hours after she vacated the premises, the realtor refused to get involved. To add insult to injury, when we tried to get someone who was in the Air Force to sublet the place, the realtor, who didn’t want to get involved in roommate disputes, refused to approve him because those cannabis loving roommates didn’t want a guy living in their apartment. Maybe they didn’t want someone who would call the cops on them. Either way, apathetic realtor…go F**k yourself!

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself to the “Look at Me” Realtor – I get that real estate is all about wanting to work with someone who has a great track record but I really don’t want to see your punim plastered on a massive billboard whenever I’m on my way to my neighborhood Stop & Shop. I’m sure you paid a lot of money so we could see how great you are but honestly, a magnet or a calendar is more subtle and actually comes in handy when I want to hang up a flyer for my son’s play or find out when Passover starts.

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself to the “I Win All the Awards Realtor” – The last time I took home a trophy was in 1986 so whenever I see a realtor posting on their social media feed that they’ve won yet another award for selling their one millionth home, it drives me nuts. Seriously, no one likes a showoff. Let your customers sing your praises and stop sharing your glass awards like it’s an Oscar or something.

via GIPHY

Posted on

Go F**k Yourself Friday…the STFU Edition

Since I was out all morning traversing the city, I had a lot of time to ponder what my topic would be this week and seriously, this one hit me over the head like a ton of bricks. Wherever I went, there you were, so I present to you, Go F**k Yourself Friday, the STFU Edition!

Go F**k Yourself Arrogant Real Estate Dude – You were sitting right next to me having coffee with a potential employee or consultant and you couldn’t have been more rude to him. Every time the poor guy spoke, you pretty much cut him down to size with some condescending remark like you could buy and sell him. The guy was scrambling to give you ideas and you just wanted to see him sweat. And I was just trying to ignore you while I got my computer’s wifi to work but felt like I was suffering through your interrogation too and even wanted to help him out. Lighten up and don’t be so sure of yourself buddy – you don’t have to be a prick to find good people. Actually, you’ll never find good people that way.

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself Girl on the Train – Hey twenty-something sitting a few feet away from me. When your phone rang unexpectedly today, did you seriously have to talk so loud so that everyone could hear your conversation? And then once you hung up, did you have to call your friend to tell her what happened in that same loud voice? Just a word on phone etiquette when you’re on the train – take it down a few decibels and look out the window when you’re talking. No one on the train wants to know what’s going on in your life. Okay, maybe we do but don’t make it that easy for us to listen in.

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself Doctor Who Totally Needs a Hearing Aid – Hey doc! I know you are about to report for surgery and the reason I know is that you are sitting in the hospital cafeteria and your phone rang and you answered it and you were so damn loud that a few comatose patients woke up from the ICU. If your voice breaks through the sound barrier when you’re on a call, then maybe it’s time to either adjust the settings on your phone or visit the audiology department stat.

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself Up Talker – I bet you don’t even know who you are. I typically bump into you on line at Starbucks and for some strange reason, every sentence that comes out of your mouth always sounds like a question. I’d like a triple soy latte half calf? I’d like a gluten free cake pop? I said soy milk not almond milk? Honestly, not every sentence has to sound like a question. End on a downbeat once in a while and eat some real food for a change.

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself Low Talker – I have to admit, I am guilty of this one but I’ve been a victim myself. I know you are only trying to be polite but if I ask you a question and I have to read your lips in order to decipher what you said, honestly, what’s the point? Speak up low talker and don’t make me have to ask you the same question again because dammit, I can’t hear anything you’re saying.

via GIPHY

Posted on

Go F**k Yourself Friday…the DIY Edition

Don’t get me wrong, I am as crafty as they come, but there are certain things in life I have no desire to do myself. See if you can relate…

Go F**k Yourself Nurse Ratchet – Even though you were first in your nursing school class, that doesn’t mean my father-in-law wants to learn how change his own catheter bag. I know insurance plans stink nowadays and they kick you out of the hospital immediately after surgery, but what’s next? Will you be teaching my mother-in-law how to do a tracheotomy or master a crash cart in case someone at the beauty parlor flatlines?

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself Blue Apron – While I do enjoy your meals after I’ve spent an hour preparing them, the one thing I hate more than anything is when you send me a bag of potatoes, five unpeeled carrots, one clove of garlic or a whole lemon and expect that I have the tools to effortlessly slice and dice them. Newsflash – I do not own a mincer or a zester and while I did buy a mandolin, my bloody fingers are now worse for the wear. If you want to make things easy for me then chop those vegetables first and save me at least 20 minutes on prep time.

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself Self Service Gas Stations   There are certain things I just don’t like to do and that’s pumping my own gas. Sure, that might sound pretentious but I always get nervous after fumbling around with the nozzle, that I won’t know when to stop or that I didn’t screw the lid on tight enough. As I drive away, I worry that I’m going to be leaking fuel all over the highway causing an explosion if I drive past an oil tanker. Yes, I have a wild imagination, but some people are afraid of snakes. I’m afraid of pumping gas.

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself Supermarket Checkout – I’ve spent the last hour navigating my way through narrow aisles getting stuck behind a woman with a kid throwing a tantrum because his mom won’t buy him Fruity Pebbles and now you want me to check out my own groceries and bag them myself? What happened to those Employee of the Month plaques where you praised the fastest cashier? Is supermarket chivalry dead? Methinks that sadly it is… 

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself to Picking My Own Movie Seats Online What ever happened to showing up for a movie early, scoping out the place and picking out the best seat in the house because we got there first? These days, even if you are punctual, you could totally be screwed by someone who snagged your seat online and then shows up after the movie starts. There are certain things that still should be first come first served and even if it’s a free for all or a running of the bulls to get the best seats, that’s part of the adventure of going to the movies. Ya snooze, ya lose. 

via GIPHY

Posted on

Go F**k Yourself Friday…The Valentine’s Day Edition

It’s supposed to be the most romantic time of the year, but honestly, how many of you are sick of Valentine’s Day? Whether you’re married and wait to the last minute to get a card and all that’s left are the really sappy ones, or you’re single and have called your girl squad to assemble so you can drink yourself into oblivion, there are so many FU’s I have for this special Hallmark invented day that I just can’t pick one.

Go F**k Yourself Restaurants with Special Prix Fixe Valentine’s Day Menus: You know exactly who you are. You know that February 14 is on the slowest night of the week, and yet, you decide it’s time to charge triple what you’d normally charge for the most expensive items on your menu. To add insult to injury, no one can even order from your regular menu so it’s Prix Fixe or bust. And then, since your chef is cooking the same thing all night, the filet mignon tastes like shoe leather and the wasabi whipped potatoes are cold. Spare me the Prix Fixe or I’m staying home.

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself to Bad Tasting Chocolate: Truth be told. One of my most favorite things to do is eat chocolate but typically, I go for the rocky road fudge or a small square of dark chocolate when I’ve got a 4pm sugar craving. But on Valentine’s Day, all bets are off. Instead, I’m gifted a tantalizing box of chocolates but every time I take a bite, the surprise inside makes me gag. I mean, who on this planet actually likes orange cream flavoring? If I’m expecting salted caramel on the inside and you give me chocolates infused with chili flakes, then I’m going to throw the box at you.

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself to the Person Who Decided that Valentine’s Day Should be Celebrated in February: Out of all the days of the year, you have to pick the one where the temperatures are below zero and the odds of there being a blizzard are pretty high. I still remember the two incidents when we went out on Valentine’s Day in the middle of a snow storm. The first time, we were practically the only ones in the restaurant and they still charged us the prix fixe menu and the second time, we went to see a Broadway show and stayed overnight in the city.  I was not wearing snow boots and the sanitation and salt trucks were nowhere to be found. So I walked through the slushy mess in my suede booties and by the time we arrived back at our hotel, my feet were blocks of ice. So romantic.

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself to Florists Who Rip People Off on Valentine’s Day: Whenever I think of Valentine’s Day, I think of flowers and when I think of flowers, I think of my wedding day and when I think of my wedding day I get pissed off. The reason? Our florist, Stefan’s gypped us that day and never put hydrangeas in our centerpieces and to add insult to injury, my mom’s cleaning lady mistakenly through my gorgeous bouquet away. Yes, I know these memories bear no connection to paying through the nose for long stem roses or a bouquet that looks beautiful when I order it online but is pretty sparse when it arrives at your front door, but either way, I have no tolerance for florists who know they are ripping me off and think I’m not going to know any better. News flash: I am a flower snob. Only send me spectacular flowers or don’t send me any flowers at all.

via GIPHY

Go F**k Yourself to Really Stupid Valentine’s Day Gifts: The dumbest ad just popped up in my Facebook feed – an $11 romantic scavenger hunt for two just in time for Valentine’s Day. First of all, why the hell would I want to be going outside in the dead of winter to look for gifts on Valentine’s Day? Don’t stick my diamond earrings in the woods. Make sure it’s safely put away where it belongs – in a blue Tiffany box with a nice white bow that’s carefully tucked away in your pocket. Don’t make me search for diamonds. Just buy them for me, hand them over and you will effectively make my day.

via GIPHY

If you do celebrate Valentine’s Day, I hope you get everything you want out of it – great chocolate, a delicious dinner that’s not overly priced, beautiful flowers and diamonds, lots of diamonds.