Wednesday, October 21, 2009

The Most Idiotic Thing I heard Today

I am constantly amazed at the complete banality of what people will claim to be experts on. Literally dozens of times a day I am completely stupefied, overhearing strangers claiming to know more about ideas and concepts as notable as dust mites. How pathetic do you have to be to announce in public that "you know a little more" about something, let alone when no one asked you where your knowledge base stood?
All 4 of you that read my previous post are aware that I work at a grocery store. Won't say which, just that customer service is much more stressed here than any other place you shop, period. While working register today I overheard a customer say to my manager "Even if your like, a hummus purist though"? Basically asserting, in a revoltingly self centered manner that she only liked plain hummus. This statement is the most mind boggling thing I have ever heard, no hyperbole.
Before I describe this woman in what will be deemed a negative manner, allow me to state that I had already met her acquaintance previously during her brief cameo at my place of employment, and she was a cunt. Just another completely disgusting, absolutely mortifying, rich, fat, white women. Who's only job is to push out babies, securing her inevitable alimony payments when she divorces the person who actually works in the family.
Now that you have this turgid 40 something year old abortion in your mind's eye, imagine her standing in front of you announcing she is a "hummus purist". Who cares? Who are these people, and where do they come from? How much actual meaning is your life missing, that you have to come in to where I work, and fucking announce your a "hummus purist"? If you are one of these "purists" and you don't look like your father's father's father's father's father's father's father times a million was roaming the fucking desert for his entire life; fuck you. You found out about hummus when you went to, and flunked out of community college you fat, cracker-ass bitch. As far removed from a purist of the subject as humanly possible.












*If you suffer from hummus purism please contact me. I will take you on a wonderful day trip and open your eyes to how wide the horizon is, hamburgers, for instance.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Management (Non)Training

So for some reason I got it in my head last February that I wanted to train for management at my job. I had gotten great scores on my last review and figured I would go for it. 8 months later and what a waste of frigging time.

I was told on my Jan 09 review by my boss that I was "in the top 20% of the company", in terms of productivity. Hence began my belief that I was ready for this. I would began my management education after submitting my "time line" for my training. Yes that's correct. I work at a company so brimming to the top with fruity-p.c. bullshit I had to submit to them how long it was going to take me to finish this up.

After I submitted my road map or whatever buzzword they had crapped out their corporate mouth/anus for it that week, away I went. Just to give an idea of how hungry I am for income: I barely make over 20k a year. Not victimizing, just painting the picture for you.

Once I had submitted my TPS report on intended progress, I was paired with the most unpleasant manager I have ever dealt with in my life. She was in charge of my "development". My thirst for diversity has helped my secure 27 jobs at almost 28 years old, so you see I'm drawing from a gigantic pool of troll managers here. To sum her up quickly: "A hatchet faced, anorexic cunt who incessantly shakes her disgustingly non existent size zero ass everywhere she walks. Wonderfully paired with the worst interpersonal skills I have ever seen." You get the picture: an absolutely despot skag of a woman basically pissed off 24/7 because the only cock she gets is half in the bag rednecks in dumpster dives on the outskirts of town.

Over the next 7 months I tried as much as possible to get my "mentor" to mentor me on anything. Not to bore you with the trivialities of what mundane, putrescent monkey shines it takes to make it through a shift at my job, but she wouldn't let me try any of them. Although its probably tough training someone on the combined affects of a hangover and the 5th morning after pill in as many days. Finally I confronted her and asked where can we start? This gremlin turd of a person tells me "putting cans on the shelf". Here's the big reveal: I work at a grocery store! When I was told this I had been there for 30 months. Imagine my delight at discovering I would be starting at something I figured I mastered 29 months back.

Once that bedrock busting (around mid August) convo tumbled from the sky I decided it was time to let the training go and just work hard. During this time I was removed from the gutter tramp's tutilage and placed under the supervision of a manager I actually respect. "Here we go" I thought. Last week he and I are sitting down at our first "Mentor Meeting" and he asks me how my timeline meeting went. You read that right. Something I already did 7 months ago. Furthering the awesomeness he assumed this meeting that had never happened had, so you can imagine the priceless look on his face when he too realized he was surrounded by degenerate mongoloids.

Come to find out the standards for management have changed and the last 8 months has been a joke. They now expect me to sit through yet another horse shit meeting as they blow a multitude of wondrous smoke up my ass about how I'm still training. I have never been so ashamed or upset about anything in my life. These jag offs want me to start this crap over, let alone take it serious after jerking me red raw over the past 8 months. No thanks.

Be careful what you wish for, kiddies!

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Hate to say...

As it seems now the national health care plan is dead. The corporate vultures circled the near dead horse, patient as they are wealthy. Knowing all the while their caws would eventually drone out any priority that mattered, and they got their wish. They devour the entrails of public opinion and still the surprise. 70% of people in polls said they supported the plan. As usual, the religious conservative bleated loudest of all over the notion of their money being used perhaps, at some point, for an abortion. Here's a list of the things that taxes pay for that I have yet to hear the "Religious Right" complain about: The Army, The Navy, The Air Force, The Marines, bombs, planes that drop said bombs, secret prisons overseas, prisons in our own country ( the U.S. imprisons more of its own citizens than any country in the world), weapon development for use on U.S. citizens, any of the numerous bailouts, the war on drugs, puppet governments,the billions in military equipment we give Israel every year, coups. When these rich, religious douchebags turn on the knife comes, I will be first in line.
I could obviously drone on and on, and I'm not saying everything I listed was bad. All of those things are enormous money pits yet go unmentioned every single "news day". 4,331 soldiers have given their lives for nothing. For a giant, banker driven machine intent on nothing but oblivion. Obama is a puppet, just like all the puppets before him. I love the sullen faces of those that stood by braying like animals now that you have truly realized a black wolf in sheep's clothing is still a wolf in sheep's clothing. You chortled like drunks with bellies full of fine food about how much "CHANGE" was coming. America is a corporation, we all work for it. If you don't believe me, research what 90% of Obama's cabinet did for a living previous to him. The governement serves you in no way, shape, or form. We all live in the belly of the beast, and stomach acid is the choice of this generation. Bottoms up.

Friday, July 10, 2009

A Great Show for Dick Riders to Watch Other Dick Riders Ride Dick

1. Dick Rider
one who uses the male penis of another as a mode of transportation willfully to gain social or financial status with no regard of self integrity or how they are perceived by others
-via www.urbandictionary.com-

This is a very touchy subject for me, mainly because I'm so against it. Dick Riding is something that is hard to grasp for some, and harder to explain to others. When your a dude who's hanging with the same bro, laughing at his jokes a little too hard, slapping him on the back too much, calling him all the time, dressing like him, living vicariously through this person, basically. You're a Dick Rider(DR or DR's from here on out).

All you DR's need to get a grip and be your own person! Look inside yourself, hop down feller and live your life that your missing because you are saddling so hard! Think of all the adventures your not creating by riding so tough.

Which brings me to Entourage. Are you people serious about this shit? A bunch of douche bags side saddling an even bigger ones nuts. This show is on like 5,6 seasons? Of what? A small herd of Troglodytes hanging out? The characters are nothing, literally no thematic elements to them whatsoever. Turtle is the stupid douche bag, tall Affleck or whatever is the over confident douche bag, other dude the sensitive faggy douche, Jeremy Piven does his regular half assed coked up agent shtick and can't forget Adrian Grier or whoever as completely vapid douche.

Entourage sucks. Worst "water cooler" show of my lifetime. Five faggots hanging out, whoop tee fucking do.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

(Lack Of) Service

My beautiful girlfriend and I went to our favorite local Mexican eatery yesterday, expecting the same top-notch service we have received every single time we have dined there. Honestly this place has the best service of any restaurant I have ever dined in. Polite, know their own menu well, friendly. They didn't even bat an eyelash when my Girlfriend's little brother puked on the floor in the middle of the dining room. Seriously.

Now, before I rant this mother up and down I will explain what I expect from the wait staff when dining out. At least a fake smile, every single time you come to my table. Any upturning of the mouth corners will do. Glasses of water for me and my party immediately. Refills on said water every 15 minutes or so. I should not have to point out what is on special at that time on my bill, either. Don't argue with me about what I ordered or the bill, go get the manager for those things. That's it, that's all I expect. If you cannot do those simple things, you should be nowhere near the service sector of society.

Moving forward, our waitress appeared new to my eyes, but I can't be sure. Never smiled once at my girlfriend and I. Avoided eye contact the entire dinner. No water offered. All those things are really no big deal and furthermore, can be quite commonplace to any frequent diner goer. The we get to the check paying part. Before I go any further allow to state: I have never, ever had to have a bill redone 3 separate times. It's just never happened, until last night.

She bring us the bill, with everything regular priced (we were there at happy hour). I take it up and ask her, politely if she could adjust the prices for the happy hour items. She looks at me, quite disgusted and goes "for what?", I calmly walked over to my table and grabbed the little placard SHE HAD HANDED me and pointed to the prices adding "see where it says "enjoy our happy hour in bold black lettering, on the receipt"". She fixes it and drops the bill off. Interjecting here for a moment: I always tip well for good service, if its happy hour I usually over-tip to compensate for the reduced sales. So she brings back the correct bill (26 something). We hand her 10$ and our debit, requesting the ten be applied to the bill then debit the remainder. She brings us back the slip with the same amount, and had pocketed the 10$. So for the 2nd time in 3 minutes I had to ask for her to fix the bill. Finally after the third time she got it right.

In conclusion I would ask that all restaurants stop employing shit servers. I don't want a foot rub or nothing, but your job is most certainly to improve my mood while serving me food. We ended up tipping her just about 15% anyway, because we like that place so much. That is all.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Laundry List of Rants

Rant list #1 Go:

1) Africa is fucked, get over it. When your health minister recommends applying lemon juice to your penis and copulating with a virgin to cure H.I.V., what can possibly be done for you?

2) Theocratic nations loves fighting one another. Lets leave them alone and let their national past times of amateur bomb smithing and misogyny continue!

3) Obama is quite obviously at this point pretty much the same as all other presidents. Case in point: After saying he would push for gay marriage rights he just issued his extensive middle of the ground report on it. Granting nothing, removing nothing, basically just admitting that gays exist. More presidential fence sitting. YES WE CAN ( be indecisive and non committal ).

4) I DON'T CARE IF EVERY SINGLE REALITY T.V. STAR DIES OF EBOLA, STOP TALKING TO ME ABOUT THEM!

5) Also stop asking me about Transformers 2, I don't give a fuck. I'm perfectly happy with the animated commercial from the 80s starring Leonard Nemoy and Orson Welles.

6) Finally one big fuck you to MMA fans. So fucking over you skinny fuck, wigger, emo, fashion abortions, mad dogging me with their TAPOUT gear. Its the same shit we went through with FUBU years ago. Pathetic weaklings get their hands on multiple layers of gear and all of a sudden I'm scared? Fuck that. Its a piece of poorly made clothing, it doesn't transform you into Chuck Liddel or increase your fighting stats. Nor does ordering every fight, every single week.

7) I don't want to watch dudes in hot pants fight other dudes in hot pants, whilst surrounded by a room full of dudes. So please save your MMA fight invitations.

Monday, April 27, 2009

Excellent Business Practices, Specs in the City!

I received a phone call stating my prescription sunglasses were ready to be picked up yesterday. Boy, was I excited. So I called them back today curious as to what my total was going to be. Apparently the 2 weeks that has passed between when I ordered them and today was not adequate enough to calculate a sub-total, Mario said he would have to call me back.

Before I go further the "ballpark" figure I was quoted was $142 and some change. Expensive, but worth it if you wear glasses and you know how convenient prescription sunglasses can be.

Mario calls me back and says in his thick Russian accent there was a "mix up", and he's going to "give them to me" for $275. I laughed and told him that's twice the original quote. He said this was a "big mistake". I replied: "Not mine", and hung up.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! ENOUGH FUCKING COLORS AND DECORATIONS!

Listen here peeps: I like wild and out there designs just as much as the next Dudebro, but things are spinning wildly out of control. Its more than obvious that everybody and their Ma has a premier purple-veined hard on for Ed Hardy, and whats not to like about a clothing designer who insists on ripping off someone born in 1911 ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sailor_Jerry )?
This story is headed to the eye doctor, where today I witnessed a sight most offensive, literal pupil rape: Ed Hardy sunglasses. FINALLY! Someone has cornered my long held desire for puma flame racing stripe sunglasses. Its about time! Fuck you Ed Hardy. Your so god damned boring its beyond description.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Fat People Upstairs = 146, Me = 0

Fuck you fat people, seriously. Fuck you so high and hard. I am planning on initiating a pan-global heart attack for all of you so I don't have to deal with your layers of shit anymore. I'm tired of you rolling your eyes at me when I'm out of your favorite sweets at the store I work at. Tired of you guiltily trying to explain that the 16,000 calories in your cart (all sugar) is "For your friend."
Most importantly I'm tired of struggling to sleep past 7am on my days off, because the tubs upstairs can't wait until I get up to do laps around the bedroom (directly above mine) at 4 in the fucking morning! I have been dealing with this shit for like 6 months now, fucking killing me for sure. They can't go on a walk outside, or do laps elsewhere in the building, nope.
Which brings me to my final statement about our lardier lads and lasses: Just like new Mothers with their enormous, over sized baby strollers, you think that we all have to put up with you cause "that's who I am, and this is what I'm doing". Well guess what? We don't. There was never a meeting where all of us who leave the table when full got together and decided we were going to put up with your shit (lets not forget the odor, Lord knows you heftier ones enjoy sharing your brand with us all). In fact, that meeting will never happen, because deep down everyone is disgusted with your dedication to cramming rolls of fat onto your frame.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Enough Rebooting Reboots of Remakes, Seriously!

I read just today at www.io9.com that Marvel is considering "rebooting" the Fantastic Four franchise. Correct, they are going to re imagine a franchise that has already been re imagined, with failure abound.
Marvel attempted a FF4 film in the early 90s that was so bad, so disastrous, that it is only available in bootleg! After waiting 15 years, and probably hoping that we had forgot: they come along with their "new" FF4 movies. You know the ones, Dr. Doom is a fucking trust fund baby (FAIL!), Galactus is purple mist instead of a light years tall Demi-God (EPIC FAIL!). They did the same thing with The Punisher: made a crap version with Lundregn (sic?) in 1988, rebooted it with Thomas Jane and Battlefield Earth Superstar John Travolta, then rebooted it AGAIN last year.
Here is my request to Marvel (DC has not shit the bed nearly as much so their safe, for now): If your not going to put heart and soul into your films, then stop fucking making them, period. You can reboot some shit 8,000 times, if the people making it don't give a shit, then why should we?