No, you guys go on. I’m just gonna hang out here a little longer. Continue reading
alluson
4 posts
Our very own alluson asked:
What’s the difference between twerking and dropping it like its hot?
Or dippin’ it low and backing it up slow?
Or shawty getting low low low when she’s wearing her boots with the fur?
As an expert on such subjects Ofkinheimer has produced the definitive guide on all such matters.
1. “Twerking” is just one continuous motion that primarily employs the lower back, pelvic and gluteal muscles. Dancers bend to their knees slightly, anchor their hands on knees and use to the lower back to ignite repetitive continuous movement around the midsection. The ideal position is similar to trying to take a shit in a public toilet and not wanting your ass to touch the nasty ass toilet. Envision this. See?! Once in this position, wave your ass around. The more fat you have around that general area, the more pronounced the jiggling is. Continue reading
In the spirit of international cooperation and diplomacy with our northern neighbors, yours truly ventured out into the wilderness and captured an actual Canadian. An actual Canadian Crasstalker, Internet alias HonkIfYouLikeCookies, rumoured (see what I did there?) to go by the name Susan. After having my way with her (it’s exactly what it sounds like), I asked her a few questions about her native land and people. Here’s what I found out about those crazy Canucks:
What is the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard an American say about Canada?
Other than the entire Talking To Americans mockumentary by Rick Mercer, the dumbest thing an American has ever asked me was if I took a dog sled to school. It was asked by someone from the deep south. Continue reading
The situation happens faster than you can blink; someone says something or does something so awful to you that you freeze in shock, anger, or both. Much as Betty eloquently described, your face turns red, you feel that hot embarrassment flush across your face, and you mutter some quick reply and the situation dissipates and the moment is over.
Hours later, or even minutes later, the perfect retort comes to your mind. You want to run back and find the insensitive prick that insulted you, mocked you, or annoyed you, and shout at them your perfectly formed, scathing, ego-bruising remark. Unfortunately, they are long gone.
Here is your chance, fellow Crasstalkers, to join me in “What I Wanted to Say.” Below are some situations in the past couple of months that have truly annoyed me (some less than others), and what I wanted to say:
To the Girl Who Always Takes My Spot at Gym Class
I hate you. I put my water bottle down, I go get my step, and I come back and you are a foot away from my spot. Do you not see my water bottle there? Why are you so rude? Why can’t you just have basic gym etiquette like the rest of humanity and respect the water bottle markage? What do I have to do? Pee on my spot? Please go away.
What I Wanted to Say: “Hey, I was here first. That’s my water bottle. (Bitch)”
What I Actually Said: Give a dirty look (that she doesn’t catch) and move my spot.
To the Girl Who Told Me “This Is My Seat.”
I hate you too. I’m sure this is your seat – IN THE FOLLOWING CLASS. I’m sorry I take too long for you, princess, to gather up my belongings and move my rotten ass out of the way, but I’m SLOW, okay? And not just MENTALLY. Please, just stand there an extra thirty seconds, and I promise I will be out of your way.
What I Wanted to Say: “Great, BITCH.”
What I Actually Said: “I’m in the previous class. I’ll be out of your way in a second, honey.”
To My Mother Who Made Me Feel Like Shit For Being Financially Irresponsible
Mom, I’m sorry I have no money management skills and have no money to pay for my cell phone bill right now. You’re right – if you weren’t paying it, it would be turned off. You’re right, I did buy a new dress for my friend’s engagement party. No, I shouldn’t have charged on my credit card. Yes, you are enabling me.
What I Wanted to Say: “When you said you would support me no matter what my decision was regarding law school, I guess that didn’t mean financially.”
What I Actually Said: I left and went back to my apartment in NYC instead of talking about it.
To the Hot Boy That Returned My Cell Phone
This guy found my cell phone, hung up signs around the school until I saw them, and then gave me my cell phone back. He was also smoking hot. Did I take this opportunity to form a connection with another human being in law school? Absolutely not.
What I Wanted To Say: “Hey, thanks! Where did you find it? Do we have any classes together? We should get together some time and study. And bone. Either or! Call me!”
What I Actually Said: “Thanks so much! I didn’t even know I lost it.” (truth)
To the Dumb Sales Guy at Lush Who Said “Oh my GOD I love your BAG!”
Hey, buddy. Relax. I’m going to buy some bubble bath, don’t worry about your sale. The bag is hideous, and it’s a typical black tourist bag with “Amsterdam” written over it. I’m pretty sure they have them in Times Square and they say “New York City “ all over them. Mine is not any prettier than those. Please cut the phony sales routine and give me my damn bubble bath.
What I wanted to Say: “Thank you!”
What I Actually Said: “Thank you!” – after all, it’s a compliment, no matter how phony, no need to be excessively rude.
To My Leasing Agent Who Said You’d Take Care of My Broken Mirror
You said that the super would come fix my mirror a month ago. Nothing has happened, and my mirror is still cracked. When it shatters and I cut my foot on glass, I will have malformed feet and I will sue you for pain and suffering. I will theoretically also not be able to practice my future career, and will request compensation for that as well.
What I Wanted To Say: “Dear Rude Ass, my mirror is still broken and I have no fucking hot water in my kitchen except on random weekend mornings. Can someone please fucking fix this so I don’t have crusty ass dishes?”
What I Actually Said: Nothing. I’ve had to call the super twice, once to let me in after I locked myself out of my apartment, and once to turn my oven off when I left it on and went back to Long Island for the weekend. I feel like I’ve used my quota up.
* * *
Okay! Now your turn! Share your most infuriating story in the comments below, and tell us what you said – and what you really wanted to say. Or, if you’re one of those people who never hold back, give us your best retort – tell us about the time you put that douche bag right in his place – and be sure to describe in detail your smug satisfaction for all of us to take vicarious joy in.