I am not a person who is given to complaint — don’t believe anything you might hear from the rumor mill! Vicious lies. In my daily living, I am not about to complain about regular human error. Mostly I am thinking that if I am served the wrong food, because I don’t have any outrageous food allergies or restrictions, I will just eat it because I would rather not waste food. And I guess I would rather not make a big fuss over it. Although I just realized that they probably would let me eat for free so maybe next time, if it ever happens again, I will say something! Witness my character growth in the very first paragraph in real time.
However, the point of this article is to tell you the story of this one time when I felt WRONGED. I was misled by packaging. So I went after the Kroger corporation in the only way I could figure out that didn’t involve speaking on the phone or to anyone’s face. I wrote an angry letter, just like an old person.
Your friend has hit a rough spot and, for whatever reason, you have stepped up to aid them in their time of need. When you invite a friend to stay in your home until their lives stabilize, until they stop weeping at night, until they get a job — ANY job — and find a place of their own to live, you may not realize exactly what you are about to do. You may think to yourself, “This man or woman has been my friend for X number of years, I feel fondness for them and would like to give them sanctuary from their troubles. After all, were I in their place, I would hope that I had a good person to help me out.” But you fail to acknowledge that this person will be using your furniture, your bathroom, your cooking utensils. They will be all over your living space. They will probably even look in your bedroom when everyone else is out working.
Basically you’ve gone above and beyond the call of friendship. You may think that because you are being so kind as to do all of this, what with the inconveniencing your life to an extent and shaking up your day-to-day, your friend would be more than happy to do the one or two things you ask of them. No sir.
You see, when you invite a friend to live with you, something happens to them. They change into a monster. Many of you have seen this happen with real room mates, but the complexities of the Room Mate is a topic for another article on another day. Friends who are staying with you as guests do not have to pay rent, or bills. They often feel like real guests, although they start out as overly grateful ones.
Hello, I’m Amandoll and today we’re here to honor the world’s favorite miscellaneous underappreciated humor site on the internet, the one you are on right now: the Sneer Campaign. Maybe you’ll see long lost footage, never before seen material unless you follow us on Facebook, and references to your favorite articles. I really don’t know how this is going to turn out because who plans what they’re going to say? Apparently not me! So strap on your safety belts, readers, so that your pants don’t fly off with all of the excitement!
Sneer Campaign began as a brainchild of Dollissa and me, with reluctant support from cchris. We have told this story before, and probably a lot of what I’m about to say in the rest of this article, but sadly I don’t have all 499 other articles posted at this time memorized. This is a clip show anyway, so you didn’t come here expecting all fresh material. BUT how did three people from different parts of the world meet in the first place, you ask? Why, through the magic of Fate and the Internet, of course!
There is no love quite like the love of a pet. They’re always there for us, when we’re sick, sad, or lonely. They’ll play with us and keep us company. They are therapists and confidants, best friends and playmates. Unconditional love for a small adoption fee.
When I was about seventeen, my neighbors adopted a kitten for their daughter and named him Samson. Children can be fickle creatures, and it turned out that their daughter wasn’t hugely interested in having a cat, so Samson was pretty much left to his own devices.
He was a longhair, mostly blue-gray, but with a white patch on his chin down to his tummy, and on the tips of his paws. He had beautiful, piercing green eyes.
Apparently, I am going to quote the bible. Are you ready? “When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things.”
I totally agree, Christian bible, in spite of our other differences. At some point in your life, you do have to put away childish things. But first, you have to decide what those childish things are. It takes years and maturity to discover that what was once appropriate is no longer. This is not to say that you cannot watch cartoons or play with toys, but that you shouldn’t still pick your nose or slap dogs in the face (not that children should either).
This series will explore some of the works in our store, Sneer1Imports. We wanted to tell the stories behind the designs and illustrations. Some have long histories, some were funny suggestions, and others were favors. Please join us on a journey of love, sneers, pens, and art!
Today’s bright little bird is perfect as a notebook, especially to use for birdwatching trips or for other bird-friendly or -related activities, notes, or silly cartoons. But if you really want to show off your love for these darlings, it makes a fabulous scarf or an adorable wall clock. We’ll be giving the proceeds from any sales of this design, or any other design featuring birds, to Wilder Friends, for the months of May and June!
I always like to consider myself as “timeless.” I am Amanda Wood no matter what decade or location I am in, and that’s fine by me! Sometimes, though, I do feel like I might be very “90s” about things. It was the ten year span that I was an impressionable teen, so it makes sense that it would leave its stain on me for the rest of my life. And really, with hindsight making things clearer, it is probably a symptom of the ’90s to feel as though you were alone, or in any way apart from the others. A generation of alienated youths probably didn’t have a solid cohort base. I know buzzfeed makes a lot of lists that only ’90s Kids Would Understand, but I often wonder which of us would even bother making that kind of thing?
As an old person now, I derive a little satisfaction seeing that my classmates don’t really want to bother setting up class reunions. We kept the friends we wanted to keep. No one really wants to put forth that kind of effort, anyway. None of us really wants to awkwardly see how much we’ve aged or discuss shattered dreams or whatever. It’s nice. Thanks, class of ’98. I probably like you all better because it turns out we were all as antisocial as I thought only I was! Bonding from afar.
With that in mind, I always planned to preface this article with a disclaimer saying that my impression of the ’90s is probably extremely personal and just one tiny rare facet that is nothing like anyone else’s experience. But, no. I had a teen time probably like everyone else’s, at least in rural Ohio. I’ve heard it suggested that rural Ohio is kind of surprisingly horrible in many ways, so maybe the rest of you dear readers had some sort of decade of playing in flower fields and volunteering your time to good causes. Well la dee da, sunshine. Good for you.
Being a girl is one of the best things ever to happen to me. My gender allows me to live in a pink world filled with unicorns, kittens, pillows, sweets, and all manner of nice things. I get to Girl Talk, rely on boys to lift heavy objects for me, and to remove insects from my sight. Also, for a few days every month, I get to be a hyper-emotional psycho with very little in the way of consequences – whether I want to be or not! Other girls understand and allow it (unless they are also in that time of the Most Terrible of Cycles), and boys understand just enough to try to ignore it. This bittersweet reward is known as the P.M.S.
This article isn’t going to be a guide for helping boys to better cope and appease the women in their lives during this bleak moment. Every girl houses a specific, unique, terrible tapestry of physical and psychological destruction, and it changes with every month. So it is nigh impossible to write a comprehensive list on how you could meet your lady friends’ needs. It just isn’t going to happen, fellas.
It is fun to live in a house. Really fun! There’s lots of places to go and hopefully a yard and you don’t have to pay rent, ideally. Well, not if you own it.
It’s hard to buy a house though. About a year ago I vowed to buy one on an impulse. Apparently that is impossible. There are all sorts of obstacles and paperwork and discouraging people, leaving an impulse buy a difficult option for you even if you can figure it out at all.
Lucky for all of you, I have done all the hard work. I have narrowed it down to five steps in order to secure your dream house.
At first glance, this looks like another post about horses. And maybe upon second glance, it looks like it is just showcasing that I am an uncharitable, selfish person when it comes to sharing my toys, as though I am a six-year-old, rather than an adult. It’s about both of those things, I guess, but actually, this is mostly an excellent example of how my mother is patient and long-suffering. You could even go so far as to say that she is a saint! I wouldn’t argue. Well yes, of course I would, but not very seriously.