Monday, September 26, 2016

are you blue?

remember that song from the yester years of sesame street that you can't get outta yer head until you hear the entire talked about racial purity...self indulgence and the separation of free thinkers and pod people?
"one of these things is not like the of these things just doesn't belong..."

so many things make zero sense to fer instance...

why do school teachers grade yer school papers...from A B C D to F
what the H-E-double hockey sticks did the letter E ever do to anyone?

what the fuck is really the purpose of cursive write'n?...outside of cause'n a special form of anal retentiveness

why in the sam hell call it a pair of pants?...when it's only one pant you put on

why do they call it fun size candy?...what's so damn fun about gett'n less candy?

why did some asshole decide to call them chicken fingers? many chickens have you seen with fingers?...(not include'n those found at Fukushima)

since the beginn'n of the clown show that began over a year ago...
with each clown try'n to out clown each other...clogg'n the airwaves and any social media outlet that would cater to their BS show...with their typical rhetoric brand'n that is worse than an ear-bleed...
cuz in the end...they are ALL only interested in the interest of one group of people

in the end though...most of them wish'd they would'a gone ahead with their instinct and hire'd Miss Grousneck's class to figer out a good strategy fer them to beat the piss outta the other come debate nite...cuz in the end...

but with ALL the BS that's been spewed from this financially failed self serve'n compulsively absurd turds loose cannon mouth regard'n gay's to gringo's...vagina's to vets...diaper's to boggles the shit outta me that A-N-Y-O-N-E who hasn't had an Ogilvy home lobotomy perm in the last year...would even consider this cankersaurus clown as a viable option still to this day...
say'n how he's gonna "make america great again"...when he doesn't even have his own crappy clothin' line made in america

with under 45 days left until we rejoice for the 1st Madame President

with the BIG debates beginn'n tonite...there is only ONE clear winner
so keep it cool...are you blue?
now get off my dress!

Monday, September 19, 2016

don't take my mind on a trip

there's times that you just can't wait to get back on the bus to work
and it just so happens this past weekend was one of those times...

like find'n a needle in a hay stack

a diamond in the rough

or gett'n all the correct lotto numbers in order

it's a rarity that you will ever see me blow my top...
well...unless of course he's used proper hygiene first

so there i was one fri nite at my gym...try'na squeeze in my routine...
doin my nightly laps in the whirlpool  work-out routine on the locker room benches  work-out floor

doin' my damnedest...rush'n to get get out...and to get off...
to get my car tire fixed at the mechanics

i stuffed all my valuables...(that ARE NOT attached to me by way of my inception) into a small hole in the wall locker...and after an exhaust'n 30 minute rushed work-out...i had simply fergotten my locker and combo...
as one does when they got a million things goin on in their head...think'n of head...wait...i'm gett'n A HEAD of myself there

let's just back it up...just a wee bit...there ya go...just like that!
oops...where was i?...ummm...oh yea
(sorry i have a bit of dickslexia happen'n...why not! it's my story)

so anywho' i was try'n to say...i was rush'n outta the gym...and couldn't remember my i asked the counter help fer help...
but they were more interested in find'n some pokemon shit apparently than help'n after the raise'n of my evil eyebrow...i gave them the exact details of all of my contents...and could they please entertain the thought of bein an actual paid worker fer once and open up the 20 or so lockers with the master key so i can get on with my irritable nite
 (though i narrowed the area down to about 10 lockers to save them precious time)

well after 15 or so lockers...and no luck gett'n the correct one...he says he can no longer open another locker without a general mangers approval...

instead of goin' bat shit on this guy...cuz that never solves A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G
(and you A double snake holes know who you are that give customer service kittens no reason to be polite to you at all!)

so anyways... he went back to the counter to email the GM...
who apparently was MAX HEADROOM!

whatevs!...time was a tick'n away...and all i wanted was to leave

1 minute...2 minutes...5 minutes...NOTHING!
as he kept type'n away...and check'n in the nightly chorus patience was check'n out

i could feel my engine spinn'n inside...ready to go all tourettes on his ass...
but i put it in park and simply asked if he would like to be served with some fava beans and a nice ciante i could speak with the M.O.D

i now had 10 minutes to get to the other end of town...
which was 15 minutes away...and without move'n from his front counter..he asked some guy...less than 20 feet away...if he could open the lockers

who was this guy you ask?...the GM/M.O.D

are you kidd'n me?...the fuck'n GM clown was less than 20 feet away...
and you had to email him to get his approval?...i wanted to punch this fucktwat in the neck!

of course the GM was no he says to me...
that they were "super busy all nite give'n out FREE day passes"

i saw him sit at his desk across from the front counter watch'n...instead of bein' concerned about a current pay'n customer's obvious urgent issue...of course i had no choice but to tame the beast within me so i wouldn't end up bein' fitted fer some straight jacket or shot down with some tranquilizer dart...but i just couldn't let it go that easy...via this blog of course!

long story shortened...i could say perhaps they had issues with me bein'...
 the unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe that i am...but who's to know took the GM less than 10 seconds to open the right door...i got my shit...called the mechanic to wait...who was more than happy to oblige...which in turn...made me not go ape shit on his mechanical my head or in this blog!

for the record...if you want GOOD CAR SERVICE done right and's worth the headache to do yer research...DO NOT call TIRED PLUS RIPOFFS...(at least the uptown location)

the same EXACT job just to change a flat tire? 30 buckaroo's...OR...
ok so it wasn't EXACTLY 100 million...(it was more like 60-160 bux i was told)...but it might as well have been a 100 million dolla quote...either case TIRED PLUS RIP-OFFS will NEVER have to worry about me give'n them a piece of my mind..a piece of my ass or a piece of my very humbled misfortune...PERIOD!

the follow'n day i figer'd it was an experience that i would not have to relive fer a long time...if ever i took my long leisurely sunday drive...
to the BULLSEYE in some unknown burb...aimlessly goin from aisle to aisle...think'n about nutt'n nothin'...comtemplate'n whether or not if  i really needed certain items in my
new head clippers
a new pair of dungarees
shower jams and jellies
or perhaps the new black the newest shade of black fer the season

i opted out of it all...and instead...i just left with some stomach fillers...
(ps...i'm not preggers) just items i knew i needed to satisfy my crave'ns

as i made my way to the only open check-out...i needed somethin' else...
a thirst quencher!

as i placed all of my items on the conveyor by'n them make their way past the scanner...i see the young cashier swipe'n my items
1st...the mustard
2nd...the chocolate milk
as my last item came down the conveyor belt...the cashier who was marinate'n in curry cologne says to me...
"sir...can you please scan this item?"

"sir...i cannot scan this is against my religion"
i swore i had too much to drink from the nite before...cuz i thought  i was hear'n double

"sir...there is pork in this is against my religion to touch it"
"AGAINST YER RELIGION?"...i i fumbled around my pockets...
look'n fer the keys to turn off my batshit mental mind at this point case you haven't heard you CASPER crusade'n cherry pick'n mother's AGAINST my religion to work on sundays...or do someone else's job that i'm not gett'n paid for...or to give 2 shits about...
what voodoo you do...on yer own time...i'm fuck'n hungry...and in NO MOOD to hear about what yer fairytales say you can and cannot do at yer place of employment!

apparently cuz it said there was pork product in my pizza...he could not touch the item...BUT the questionable pork was not exposed where his fingertips would touch it...IN FACT...i'm almost pretty sure that it was conveniently sealed in some non denominational plastic 

look...i'm ALL fer the United Colors of Benetton workers...i really am...
and have no problems with whatever people choose to do with their OWN life that means nothing to ME...since THEY mean nothing to me after i leave their register...(unless of course they plan on bring'n me their "goods" wrapped in plastic) except that when i'm a pay'n customer...and yer the paid employee...YOU are gett'n paid to DO YER JOB...FOR ME...PERIOD!

you don't like it?...then work in another area where you are not exposed to yer fairytale filth!...cuz i can bet most religious voodoo'ers...
 they're ALL conveniently fitt'n their "fairytales" laziness...instead of actually THINK'N what they're say'n...before they have to chow down on their own feet!

i scanned the item...and BAGGED it myself...and i now expect to get paid...
fer my services rendered!

the only good thing that came outta the whole weekend...(besides me)
was winnn'n the lotto...well it was only a buck...but still...ya can't win if ya don't play kittens...kapeesh!

i get enough religious puke from the news...the fairytale thumpers on the streets corners near my work...or the CASPER crusaders that lurk all alone try'n to save yet another soul from burn'n in their delusional pits of fire
but keep yer voodoo stories to yerself...or  you'll be goin' on a wildest ride with my spiked tongue!

so that's a weekend in the life of an unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own's time fer me to hum my hims...
now get off my dress!