@zap rowsdower: I nearly killed a guy over his choice Hotel California. And by "nearly killed" I mean I went outside, smoked a cigarette, came back in and he was still going, so I smoked another one till he was done. And by "a guy," I mean me, from cancer.
It's just like the options market. I did this last year for the Washington Capitals. Though for them, it was through an outside company they contractd with, and the option price was based on the ticket. So a $50 option was for one set of seats, the $75 option was for better seats, and the $20 option was for the nosebleeds. Of course, I took a bath on the pair, but oh well.
Why is it that a compliment from my gay co-worker on something I'm wearing means a lot more to me than the same compliment from a female co-worker or my wife?
The bane of my existence: coupons. Oh, you're going to spend $100 on groceries but it's vitally important that you get that .35 off your all-grain cereal you blue-haired old bat? Important enough that you hold up the line bitching that it should still be valid because even though the one you gave the lady expired last week, there's a new one and they're the same value so why won't you take the old one?
Wanna save the earth, grocery stores? Stop wasting paper by printing coupons. Fuck coupons. And fuck the people who use them.