You bastard. You saw me. You heard me. You looked right at me as I started running down the hall (yes, in em-effin’ heels) calling out to you to hold the elevator. You looked right at me, and then you got on the elevator and let the doors close.
I never liked you. I always saw you as an arrogant little pr*ck. In your pricky little car. Or when you rode your bike to work but chose to wear that full unitard getup and walk into the building. But I chose to ignore you.
But now? I’m pissed. And I’ll let you know – eventually – one way or the other.
In the meantime, I’d like to introduce you to my group of innernet friends. They’re brutal. And in my comments, they will assist me in wishing upon you every discomfort. I’m warning you now — this could get pretty miserable.
Okay, friends. It’s up to you. Please enter your punishment/plague/affliction upon this insufferable gentleman in my comments section. Feel free to be creative.
I’ll start.
To the jackass who didn’t hold the elevator, I wish upon you:
- A raging case of jock itch with a side order of painful hemorrhoids.
Jambalaya! 
April 27, 2009 at 10:25 am
A long ride in the elevator with an insufferably chatty person. Wordnerd wouldn’t have been that chatty. She just didn’t want to wait for the next elevator (Sorry, I’m not a very mean person. I prefer to wish awkwardness upon someone).
April 27, 2009 at 10:37 am
I hope your next elevator ride is full of gassy people who all ate beans and cabbage for dinner the night before!!!And just for good measure, I hope one of them sharts all over your expensive shoes!
April 27, 2009 at 12:00 pm
I hope you get hit by a bus and die in your unitard, so that every one of the paramedics, cops, hospital and morgue workers gets a good laugh, and also so that you have to spend the entirety of your afterlife being mocked for it.
April 27, 2009 at 1:11 pm
Fill the men’s toilets with baby crocs and feed him brownies with chocolate ex-lax. While he’s away from his desk, dump tuna fish into his printer and sign up for gay incest bestiality porn from his work e-mail id. Then tell HR he tried to give you heroin in exchange for anal sex. To cap it off, that night send him a pizza he doesn’t want (I suggest anchovies and pineapple).
April 27, 2009 at 3:04 pm
5 minutes “naked time” in a truckstop mensroom filled with naked truckers.
April 27, 2009 at 3:16 pm
– a long ride down a razor blade slide into a pool of rubbing alcohol.
– one pube caught in your zipper, ever day, for hte rest of your life.
– itchy feet and two broken arms. At the same time.
– a bee up your nose.
I got a million of ’em. Shall I go on?
April 27, 2009 at 3:16 pm
– a long ride down a razor blade slide into a pool of rubbing alcohol.
– one pube caught in your zipper, every day, for hte rest of your life.
– itchy feet and two broken arms. At the same time.
– a bee up your nose.
I got a million of ’em. Shall I go on?
April 27, 2009 at 5:45 pm
May someone treat you even more poorly when YOU are running late, you insufferable douche bag.
…and may you have diarrhea publicly while wearing your unitard.
Useless moron.
April 27, 2009 at 5:58 pm
May sand fleas infest his underwear drawer.
May his favorite professional sports team get caught in an orgy with the team he most hates.
May your bicycle get stolen by a ten year old girl, who comes by daily to taunt you over it, and regularly kicks your ass just to maintain her dominance.
May a video of you and a goat (a literal goat) surface on You Tube.
May the goat be unattractive.
May you be raped by pit bulls.
My incontrovertible video evidence show that the pit-bull love was consensual. May this evidence show up on You Tube.
May the pit bulls be unattractive.
May you find romance online with a younger woman, who actually “gets” you, and may you eventually meet her and fall in love with her and leave your family for a shot at true happiness.
May your new love by 9 months pregnant and in the hospital ready to deliver, and you meet her mother for the first time, and realize she’s someone you hooked up with in college, the girl who’d just dropped out one day and nobody knew why, but there were rumors she was pregnant, and I think you know where I’m going with this…..
DON’T F**K WITH WORDNERD, ’cause I can make all this happen.
April 27, 2009 at 9:10 pm
I can’t think of anything after reading all of those hilarious responses!!! LOL
April 27, 2009 at 10:28 pm
I can’t top any of those either!! I just hope I don’t get on the bad side of any of you!
April 28, 2009 at 5:10 pm
Haha you have some vindictive friends there! Glad I’m on your good side! I just hope the knob gets stuck in the lift for 24 hours, that’ll test his bodily functions and put some stress on his unitard!
April 28, 2009 at 11:06 pm
Remember, what goes around, comes around. And seriously, a unitard? He’s his own worst enemy anyway.
April 30, 2009 at 7:11 pm
trapped eternally in your own private hell where you can’t ever get out because no one will let you into the elevator.
May 3, 2009 at 12:30 pm
Did you feel that prick in your neck? I am about to go voodoo all over your ass.
May 14, 2009 at 11:29 am
Anal leakage whilst wearing said unitard.
Bastard.
May 14, 2009 at 3:53 pm
I hope you get stuck in the elevator.
On a Friday evening.
After everyone else has left.
On a hot, summer’s day.
When the building’s air conditioning’s broken down.
And the emergency phone’s broken.
And your cell phone battery is dead.
And you’re suffering from all those delightful ailments listed above.
Or, alternatively, may a figurative mirror be held up to you one day, and may you learn, to the root of your soul, just how much it hurts to be on the receiving end of loutish behavior like yours.
FWIW, I’d hold the elevator for ya. I hold elevators for everybody. Doors, too. Often for ridiculously long periods of time, because I don’t want folks to think I was ignoring ’em.
Most of the time, they walk on by and say nothing. I’ll still keep holding.
March 26, 2023 at 7:45 am
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Hell Hath No Fury… | Jambalaya!