Friday, July 18, 2008

more shit that pisses me off

UPDATE: i thought of another this morning, and couldn't let a rant just run off!
the requisite weirdo in line. it doesn't matter where you're queuing, the grocery store, movie theater, porn shop, there's always someone in front of you with an off the wall issue that holds everybody else up and causes people to tsk, sigh, and, in the case of me, blatantly ask, "WHAT THE FUCK?" yesterday at the virgin, i'm waiting to pay for a DVD, and this total space oddity in front of me is asking such ludicrous questions like, "are these DVDs the same as everywhere?" do i even need to justify the mere asking of such a question with a bitch session? well, if i must: no, shitass, the DVDs sold at virgin are made in special factories in the north pole, right next to santa's very own, and if you use bad language around them, they'll turn to dust, depriving you of a potentially enlightening movie experience. and this weirdo in tinted glasses (something ELSE they have in common) that just happened to be purple, kept leaning over the counter to look at the register's screen! like some oracle of wonder lived inside and displayed a different answer from the one that latrisha was telling her. oy.

and speaking of the aforementioned lines, the only thing i hate more than waiting in them is waiting on them, or at least listening to people say that. this rotten nasty girl sporting split ends and apple bottom jeans was yelling at her boyfriend on the phone to stop calling her because she was waiting ON LINE at the wholefoods. are you now? i don't see computers anywhere--how could you be online? are you checking email on your phone? if so, then why are you waiting? you're getting instant service courtesy of the wonder of mobile internet. ONline is reserved for america, and that time we all spend checking such internet-based portals as email and porn subscriptions. when you find yourself amongst other people, waiting for something in an organized fashion, you're standing IN line. even if your feet physically touch a painted line as you wait, you're then waiting on A line, not online.

can we adjust?

shit that pisses me off



well many of you, my most loyal, knew it was only a matter of time until the bitch reared his summery blond head and came up with a rant list! so without further ado, here goes:

people who think they're entitled to an especially privileged existence just because they've decided to bring a child into this world. those women who push around baby carriages, their faces smugly lit with expressions that reek of tinted moisturizer and maternal aggression, walk as if crimson carpets should be unfurled in front of them. they snarl at anyone who happens to be sitting on a crowded subway and dares make eye contact with them, like you should give up your seat just because they're pushing around some bratty-ass kid in an oversized, fancy schmancy wheelbarrow. well, you know what i say? i hereby declare: listen, gals--nobody asked you to pop out that screaming creature. you haven't done anybody any favors, and we, as in the rest of us who live purely single, self-sufficient lives, sure as hell don't care how heavy your little bundle is--it's on wheels, sister, so start pushing and leave me alone.

next is the term "it's not rocket science." and you would know this, how? ohhh, i had no idea you were summa cum laude from the harvard school of velocitous aeronautics and assholeism!
seriously. as complex as the field of constructing high-velocity propulsion units is, i'm sure there are other superlatives out there that would be as equally as effective as this pantyliner of a cliche, but land a more youthful splash in a conversation. like brain surgery. admit it--we all DVR house.



next up is ugly lesbian glasses. at the risk of being politically incorrect (and honestly, like i give a shit), let me clarify: ugly glasses worn by people who possess neither mirrors nor perception of reflective surfaces, that predominantly happen to be lesbians. the lovely and talented ingrid sischy is a former culprit, but she's since cleaned up her act (not that she needed to--girlfriend can do whatever she likes. she's ingrid sischy). but i digress.
these particular opthalmic glasses of which i speak are more architectural microwonders than the lens express special. they come in all shapes, sizes and colors, but they're just wrong and should not be displayed on the face. i'm taking a picture tomorrow so i can show you just what i mean.

i'm out of steam and my sleeping pills are kicking in, so enjoy the latest installment, and honestly--get on the shit and start sending advice requests, people.

yours in haughty naughtiness,
bryanambition ;-)

Monday, July 07, 2008

sacrebleu!




so HERE's a fantastic idea--now you can get your very own dose of bryanambition! every tuesday, i'm turning the gilded tongue into an advice column, answering YOUR questions with all types of solutions!
simply email your question to bryanambition@gmail.com, and let peace of mind begin.
of course, i'll practice diligent discretion when publishing the questions and answers, protecting your privacy and all, so i suggest you tell all your friends so i can spend all day tomo digging for resolutions.

bon soir!