This is the kind of shit that makes me laugh at people who are always bitching about equality, and the environment…Ecofeminism

So I am going to complain a little bit about the state of customer service in the world we live in today. Like elevators there are a set of rules when you are a customer service representative or simply representing any organization (especially on the phone). I know I can be an abrasive person with a very short fuse, but I am extremely nice on the phone…so I don’t know if this if just a result of me being the way I am or if it really bothers other people as much as it bothers me. They just might not want to make a scene or feel it’s better to catch more flies with honey. I dunno and I don’t care, but I am getting tired of this shit.

This is what happened. Again, I would like to preface this by saying this may not be a real problem but it drives me straight up insane. It might just also be UMBC and their policy of hiring retards to answer the phones. Anyway…I needed to find out some information so I made a call (my first mistake). The first person I talked to besides not saying any type of greeting other then yes or even giving me her name had no idea what I was trying to ask her, like she didn’t speak English or something. She kept telling me if I needed forms then I needed to call someone else, but I had to repeat that I ALREADY have the forms and I just needed to find out who gets them or what the procedure is for submitting them like ten time, no lie. After about five minutes of listening to her smack her lips and chew food in my ear I told her to take an English class and to go shoot her self after killing off any offspring she may have had, then I hung up on her. I know…it’s mean…I am rude…but that lady seriously has no business representing ANY organization, let alone a college, on the phone.

So, still in need of what has to be done to get this paperwork submitted I decided to call another organization at UMBC that might be able to help (second mistake). I again found my self talking to someone who in no way could have ever gained a diploma legitimately. Though, this lady at least knew who I might need to talk to, that lady wasn’t there. I need this information today and I find it absolutely absurd that NO ONE in the offices that are supposed to know the information have any idea what to do. So I called the lady back again and asked to speak to someone different. I want to tell you that even though I was pissed I was nice to this lady…but I guess she just didn’t want to talk to me twice in one day. Because when I called her back it’s like she was a whole new kind of ignorant. All I sad was and I quote “Yeah, the lady you passed me to a second ago wasn’t there can I talk to someone else who might know the information I am looking for?” Then she starts calling me sir in that condescending tone which wasn’t helping at all. I closed my eyes as she was talking and I imagined my hands around her neck as I head butted her into hell. It was magnificent. After I got hold of my anger I asked to talk to someone else because I couldn’t listen to her any more so then SHE hung up on ME. Oh no you didn’t BITCH!?!? If I thought it would make any difference I would complain to the counties representative, but I bet ya I would get the same kind of treatment from them.

These ladies broke a number of rules.

1. Always answer a phone in a polite manner and fully identify your self.
2. LISTEN, it’s the only damn thing you should be doing right now. You have a phone to your ear…listen to what I am saying!
3. Never eat, chew, cough, sneeze, or otherwise make disgusting noises with your mouth while on the phone.
4. Do not use slang.
5. Do not assume I know what your talking about without first explaining the whole process to me. I am smart…I am not fucking psychic.
6. Do not answer the phone if you don’t have the intention of actually helping me. Passing me to another person get’s old really quick.

With my pissed-off-o-meter in the red I decided to call one last office. When she answered she said, “Hi, my name is XXXX XXXXX. How may I help you?” AT LAST! A proper phone greeting. This lady, I am glad to say was able to tell me what I needed to do. The funny part is this lady was a part of the registration office and not the finance or bursar’s office…she probably should not have been able to answer my question.

Why couldn’t those other stupid fucking communist whores tell me what I needed to know??? Why were they so mean on the phone??? Why don’t they know how to speak properly??? Terrible…

Urge to kill fading……

Ok, I gotta ask something.

I am a man. I use urinals. I don’t really like it…but hey, I do what I gotta do.

How in God’s name do fucking pubic hairs get on the dam urinal?!?!

I mean it’s one thing to see the stray hair on the brim of a toilet, sure. I understand that. But when all you gotta do it pull out your tally whacker and piss in the hole how do pubic hairs get there? These aren’t regular pubes either. These are mutant Chernobyl pubes. They are so long and gangly, I swear a few of them tried to take me into bathroom hell once. I try not to look or wonder about them, but it’s just so off. Is it possible to grow hairs on your shaft?! That’s the only way other then intentional hair placement (which should be punishable by no less then 10 lashes.). I am at a loss. I can’t fathom how it happens.

If you are one of those men…please…I kindly ask…for the love of all that is pure and good CUT YOUR BALL HAIRS! It’s ignorant. Really. If I ever catch one of you filthy bastards I am gonna drop a few of mine in your dam coffee cup. So watch the hell out.

I haven’t posted recently…

Sorry about that…

Been really busy…

I am sure you understand.

Here’s whats been happening:

I got married! Everyone said that I was gonna regret it…and boy were they right…

HAHA! Just kidding. It was an awesome day. My now wife (still kinda weird to say), our families, and everyone else did a wonderful job. Everything went over without a hitch. I could not possibly in any way, ever write enough to say thank you to all of who made that day possible for my beautiful wife and I.

We went on our honeymoon in Austrailia!!! We totally needed more time. We went to Sydney and the Blue Mountains (which were honestly the most amazing thing I have ever had the privledge to witness personally.). Let me tell you about a few of the pictures in the line up linked to above. If ya happen to run across a few blurry ones of what can only be described as a naked man…is indeed a damn naked man. That’s what our view was from our hotel room. I know it’s kind of odd but we couldn’t stop wondering what the naked guy was doing…so every few minutes we looked out the window to check up on our neighbor. The man was doing everything from watching TV while sitting on a HARDWOOD floor…to counting change, all while naked. The weirdest part though was the next day. When we checked for him we found where a whole apartment full of warm furniture and naked life used to be was nothing but an empty, cold, slightly molested shell of it’s former self…he and the contents of his apartment had vanished. I am sure that will not be the last we see of our friendly naked neighbor.

Well…

That’s about it for now. Check back soon.

I work in an office…

I enjoy the time I have alone during the day taking a crap…

It is the single most fulfilling event in many of my average days…

I like getting paid to wipe my ass…

It makes me feel important.

Knowing that, you now also know that I am a very lucky person, mostly bad luck…but lucky none the less.

A few months ago I was sitting in the handicapped stall (I like to be able to sprawl out, plus if they don’t want to be treated any differently then they can use the tiny stall with the door that opens so close to the toilet you actually have to step in the toilet to get out of the stall, just like every other able bodied human) and I was enjoying a nice post lunch dookie.

As I was nearing the end of my time in bathroom a person came in and took the stall next to me. Now, I ain’t exactly the squeamish type but there is just something about hearing another man’s ass cheeks spread as he sits and the sound his anus makes as it lightly dilates, preparing it’s self for the task ahead, followed by the pungent aroma of 4 hours of sweat and underpants…it’s enough to make a grown man cry.

Anyway…as he and I share the moment, both squatting over a dark inviting hole doing our business I happen to look down and notice his shoes. They were white tennis shoes, fairly new, nice, but not my style. We continue our journey…

I was getting ready to clean up the work site when this speedy guy starts to do the same. He couldn’t have been in there for more then 45 seconds it wasn’t his turn!!! No worries though…what could I do? The rules are the rules. I am assuming he was late for something cause that’s the only valid reason a man should ever need to take a dump that quick and break the bathroom exit line.

Sitting quietly on the edge of vomiting waiting for him to leave because two men cannot, without destroying a piece of their soul, make eye contact after something as traumatic as listening to another man’s most intimate grunts, I wait. He gets up, zips his pants, and flushes the toilet with his foot. Immediately I could tell something was wrong. The toilet made an unnatural gurgle and a split second after that deafening noise came the floods…the floods that included not only toilet water but this man’s used toilet paper, and if I may be so bold, HIS FUCKING TERDS! The waters coming ever closer to this mans nice new shoes forced the man to grab hold of the top of the stall and as I saw his hands come over the top I instantly saw his feet dissapear. This was an altehtic man because from his death grip position on the flooding stall’s wall he was able to open the door and escape, without washing his hands, without apologizing, and without calling for assistance. So, surrounded by this mans lunch, asshole drying out, trying to figure out how in the hell to get out of this prison unscathed I had to take the plunge. I put my feet down and finished up. As I was leaving I almost slip and fall, which I feel would have qualified me for some kind of military award. I escape…and get back to the office to tell the others of my adventure.

I never saw those tennis shoes again…and I will never forget what happened in that stall that warm summer day…

Life Lesson #1: Be careful when adding suffixes to the ends of words in mixed company.

Here is the story…

Like many of you out there I add various suffixes to words that probably shouldn’t have them to relay a somewhat different meaning at times given their level of appropriateness. Words like cabinocity and gittyupidness from that stupid car commercial remind me of this phenomenon. You have done it before, I know you have…I don’t know what it’s official name is.

So anyway, I used to work at a help-desk for a company I will not name here. Doing all the menial tasks and jobs that a typical help-desk person does. You know, helping people turn on their computer and learn how to print a document kind of make you want to light yourself on fire and jump out of a window crap. So I am over in front of a bunch of my help-desk buddies talking it up with them and I happened to be wearing a light army green button up shirt that day. And being like any other white computer geek it was unbuttoned with a funny t-shirt underneath. One of my friends was an older lady named Marilyn a very nice and sweet lady. She always used to call me her “insert a various fruit or vegetable associated with the color of my shirt”. For example, if I was wearing a blue shirt, I was her little blueberry that day. Annoying as it was, I accepted that this was her way of being nice to me and I allowed it. Yes, I allowed it.

However…on this very fateful day while having a good time on someone else’s dime something happened, a life lesson. For it was this particular day when I was to be Marilyn’s Sweet Pea. Soon after that someone was picking on me about something. I don’t remember what it was but I was hurt…and Marilyn saw this discomfort. While looking at her I remembered her earlier comment to me and I immediately and unknowingly responded to my attacker with “your hurting my Sweet Peaness!” I was loud and I made sure that everyone within 20 feet heard me and made sure that they knew my Sweet Peaness was in agony. Of course I had no idea what I was saying…I thought I was innocently adding -ness to the end of a word. People 5 rows back on the phone with customers are gazing at me in horror as I scream that my Sweet Peaness is being hurt. It was only when I was explicitly asked what in the hell I was doing did I then realize what I was saying. As my face turned pale and I was becoming increasingly confident that I was going to be fired. I walked away…laughed at and just slightly smarter.

(Setting: Wal-Mart (funny in it’s self), roughly 7:00 P.M. on a Sunday. Shoe section…I am reluctantly looking around at the shoes with Christeen, when she finds a pair of shoes she likes.)

Chirsteen: What about these?

Me: Oh yeah, they look cool. Try em’ on.

Christeen: What do you think?

Me: Very nice, I like them.

Christeen: Are you sure they look good?

Me: Yeah, they are pretty cool. I like them.

Christeen: I don’t know…I don’t think I am funky enough to pull these off.

Me: Hahahahahahahahahahaha…

(Reason for my laughter: The age old question of, does ones level of funkiness really have anything to do with whether or not one can wear a particular pair of shoes, or is it the shoes that raise ones funkiness level to the point of being able to pull them off.)

Let me paint y’all a picture.

Young Johnny angry over a heated argument storms off of his fathers property. The golden locks of his country mullet strewn in the breeze as he makes haste towards the local Burger King to regain some energy. When none other then the Dark Lord him self appears before young Johnny…”not today partner” thinks Johnny…your not going to drink my blood!

The End.

You might just think that that’s a story cooked up by a kook with a keyboard…but in fact my friends this is the world we live in…

The Vampire Slayer (Read the whole thing…it’s so worth it.)

This has got to be today’s most awesome article.

Most possibly for the year…

(Setting: A semi-fancy restaurant in a back country don’t really know no better way, that anal rapes you on the price of the food which by the way ain’t really all that good to begin with, but you went there because your Inn Keeper recommended it and he seemed trustworthy. http://www.al-mediterraneo.com/ is the place I am talking about…if your ever anywhere near Hershey, PA…don’t waste your time or your money, it’s terrible.)

Smug Waiter Guy: I will now bring you some bread for you to enjoy…

Me: (Mocks him behind his back for using the word’s “to enjoy” at the end of that sentence.) Christeen, I will so enjoy the bread.

Smug Waiter Guy: Here ya go guys, enjoy.

Me: (Laughing inside) Thank you very much.

(I unwrap the stiff white cloth encasing the bread we must enjoy.)

Christeen: (Picking up a piece of bread, and smelling it) Hmmmm…do you think there is going to be a nut in this???

Me: Hahahahahaha…

I feel I must elaborate on this one a little. The reason I found this particularly funny was because on top of the fact that the waiter wanted us to enjoy it so intensely, Christeen only specified a single nut being in the bread. So immediately I see the waiter guy in my mind looking over his shoulder and with a squint in his eye secretly places a giant nut in the middle of Christeen’s bread and with a little laugh places the bread on the table for us to enjoy…I don’t know…she said no one would find it funny. I thought it was hilarious.

One last thing, the Inn Keeper was actually a very nice guy and he ran a great Inn. http://www.1825inn.com/. If he ever reads this, no worries about the restaurant I had a good laugh. Thanks again for the great stay! We will be sure to tell our family and friends.

(Setting: It’s late, we are tired. We are in the car, coming home from a long day out, Marvin Gaye lightly singing “I heard it through the Grapevine” on the radio. Actually as she points out it was on the XM radio, this is how the whole thing was able to transpire.)

Christeen: Ohhhh, I didn’t know Marvin Gaye sung this song…

Me: Yeah, it was him.

Christeen: You know who I thought sang it?

Me: (Confused) Yeah who do you think sang it?

Christeen: The California Raisins…

Me: Hahahahahaha…

(Christeen continues to sing and dance as she calls her boyfriend an a-hole for laughing at her.)