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Fuck you, xfcanadian, you whinging bumclot. I'm so very sorry I let a spoiler drop in a thread labeled with a giant SPOILER warning. If you don't want to be spoiled, fucknut, then mayhap it would behoove you to avoid threads marked with SPOILER warnings. And really, given that every fansite, gossip blog, and D/L sekrit citadel has been fangasming about Lindsay's pregnancy for days, I don't see how you could have missed this noxious little wrinkle. Please to be fellating your delicate sensibilities in front of someone who cares. Ass onion.
And there you have Reason 341 for why I'm glad I'll never be a mod on TalkCSI. If I were, I'd have to pretend to give a weasel fart about the horrors of spoilers on a fan forum and other ruinous threats to the fantards' fragile fan bubbles.
Actually, I don't give two shits about Xfcanadian and her bruised fannish ego. I'm pissed at the bus company. A supervisor approached my Roomie as we were disembarking to tell him that the driver had complained about his "offensive odor."
Two years ago, another supervisor approached him about the same thing and ordered him to stop wearing sleeveless shirts. Two years ago, they were completely in the right because Roomie had a raw, nasty rash under his arms that made him smell like a decomposing yak. It was so rank at one point that a homeless guy told him to take a bath. However, with treatment and regular washing and applications of Speed Stick, the problem was solved. No one has complained since.
Until today, when the driver went on a muttering underbreath rampage about personal essences.
I've got news for you, fuckstick. It's 87 degrees outside, Roomie has walked several miles, and we've been waiting at a stop for an hour. He's 280 pounds. He's going to sweat. Furthermore, he didn't stink. My face is level with his armpits; I would be the first to know. He smelled like Speed Stick. You know, fucking deodorant. Additionally, there were three other sweaty people on that bus, one of whom was carrying a baby. It could have been them. Mayhap the diaper was loaded.
I find it incredibly rich that you call his odor offensive when the bus company routinely picks up people who smell like they've bathed in beer or slept in a cigarette-scented hyperbaric chamber for 34 years, people who have probably douched with a Marlboro Man applicator and enjoyed a malt enema.
If that weren't enough, the second driver bitched that my chair wasn't steady. Maybe it would've been if he had been assed to tighten the tie-downs properly instead of leaving the front two so slack that they dragged the floor. But that would require fucking effort and proper training, and who has time for that?
Goddammit, I just know that sooner or later, they're going to claim Roomie can't ride the bus anymore because he stinks or claim that I can't because my chair isn't "safe". If that happens, my ability to function will cease to exist, and I would be forcibly homebound.
I'm frustrated, frightened, and angry. I hate that the bus company can hold my life hostage because a driver might not like his deodorant. I'd get a lawyer and sue for discrimination if I knew where to turn. I'm so fucking sick of having to worry about everyone else while no one cares about me. I'm sick of being told to be responsible and then having the means to do so withheld in the name of other people's "comfort".
Mostly, I'm sick of trying. I just want to pull the covers over my head and pretend I'm someone else.
And there you have Reason 341 for why I'm glad I'll never be a mod on TalkCSI. If I were, I'd have to pretend to give a weasel fart about the horrors of spoilers on a fan forum and other ruinous threats to the fantards' fragile fan bubbles.
Actually, I don't give two shits about Xfcanadian and her bruised fannish ego. I'm pissed at the bus company. A supervisor approached my Roomie as we were disembarking to tell him that the driver had complained about his "offensive odor."
Two years ago, another supervisor approached him about the same thing and ordered him to stop wearing sleeveless shirts. Two years ago, they were completely in the right because Roomie had a raw, nasty rash under his arms that made him smell like a decomposing yak. It was so rank at one point that a homeless guy told him to take a bath. However, with treatment and regular washing and applications of Speed Stick, the problem was solved. No one has complained since.
Until today, when the driver went on a muttering underbreath rampage about personal essences.
I've got news for you, fuckstick. It's 87 degrees outside, Roomie has walked several miles, and we've been waiting at a stop for an hour. He's 280 pounds. He's going to sweat. Furthermore, he didn't stink. My face is level with his armpits; I would be the first to know. He smelled like Speed Stick. You know, fucking deodorant. Additionally, there were three other sweaty people on that bus, one of whom was carrying a baby. It could have been them. Mayhap the diaper was loaded.
I find it incredibly rich that you call his odor offensive when the bus company routinely picks up people who smell like they've bathed in beer or slept in a cigarette-scented hyperbaric chamber for 34 years, people who have probably douched with a Marlboro Man applicator and enjoyed a malt enema.
If that weren't enough, the second driver bitched that my chair wasn't steady. Maybe it would've been if he had been assed to tighten the tie-downs properly instead of leaving the front two so slack that they dragged the floor. But that would require fucking effort and proper training, and who has time for that?
Goddammit, I just know that sooner or later, they're going to claim Roomie can't ride the bus anymore because he stinks or claim that I can't because my chair isn't "safe". If that happens, my ability to function will cease to exist, and I would be forcibly homebound.
I'm frustrated, frightened, and angry. I hate that the bus company can hold my life hostage because a driver might not like his deodorant. I'd get a lawyer and sue for discrimination if I knew where to turn. I'm so fucking sick of having to worry about everyone else while no one cares about me. I'm sick of being told to be responsible and then having the means to do so withheld in the name of other people's "comfort".
Mostly, I'm sick of trying. I just want to pull the covers over my head and pretend I'm someone else.
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