RANT/RAVE (Week of Feb. 18)

Three times a lady
Oh please, oh please, play that Lady Gaga song again! I haven’t heard it a million times today! Please! “Poker Face”! I forgot what the other one is. It sucks!
Anonymous Rantline caller

Got the message?
I would like people to join me in trying to get the phone companies to stop that message that says, “At the tone, please record your message. When you are finished, you may hang up or press pound for further options. To leave a callback number that you can be reached at, press one.” We know all that information; there is nothing in there we don’t know. We know that you don’t hang up until you’re finished. We also know that you can hang up. And you can’t press pound for further options — it doesn’t work! And you don’t need to leave a callback number anymore; almost everybody has call display. These things just aggravate the hell out of me. Why don’t we just have a simple “Record your message”?
Anonymous Rantline caller

Poorly endowed
I’m a little confused. If I could only grow 15 hairs on my face, I sure as shit would not advertise that fact by trying to grow a beard. It’s like the facial equivalent of wearing a T-shirt that says, “HEY, EVERYBODY! I’VE GOT A ONE-INCH PENIS!”.
JW

Rude awakening
I was still half asleep this morning at Waterfront Station — and, therefore, stunned — when you, a racist woman, came up to me, out of the blue, and sneered, “You’re strange! You white people are strange!” When I got my bearings, I went hunting for you in the crowd. I could not find you, which is lucky for you, because I was going to give you a broken nose. Yeah, happy World Games, eh?
Anonymous Rantline caller

Gangstas, grilled
Can we end this trend with the fucking sweaters with the gold and silver shiny emblems all over them? If you’re wearing a purple sweater with gold crowns on it, you don’t look like a pimp, you look like you work for Imperial Margarine. Let’s fucking end this. Enough’s enough.
Anonymous Rantline caller

Swept up in the chaos
Hi, my name is Casey. I drive a sweeper. I sweep the streets of the city — yup, the city of Vancouver. For all these people that are honking and yelling and screaming obscenities and showing me their IQ — I believe that would be one, with their middle finger... Um, you know that big arrow board on the back of the machine that’s asking you to go around me? That is not a signal light; I am not turning left. Go around me! And I don’t understand what the big deal is, Most people don’t want to go to work, they don’t like to go to work. And yet all you people on this morning’s drive seem to want to get to work as fast as you can. You’d think that I’m doing you a favour by holding you up! Oh, well. Enjoy your drive. Next time you see a sweeper, I hope you remember this.
Rantline caller

Warm regards
Yada, yada, yada. So, you don’t believe in global warming? Well, good for you, but I don’t care. Nonetheless, it’s seven degrees in February. Look it up: this is warm. And if you don’t believe that, go check around in the West End and you’ll see that the cherry blossoms are out. Yes, it’s February, and the cherry blossoms are out. You don’t believe in global warming? I’m sorry for you, but global warming’s a reality, okay? It’s happening.
Anonymous Rantline caller

For eff’s sake!
Why is the F-word such an offensive word? I mean, it means to fecundate, to make fruitful. In the old Saxon term, it means to plow the land. At worst, it means to make love with somebody else. So why is the F-word such a nasty word? Why does it have such a bad rap, especially in this more enlightened age? Oh, fuddle-duddle.
Anonymous Rantline caller