In The Trailerhood
Monday, August 30, 2010
The Rest Of The Story
Ok, kids, I know this is three weeks later but I did promise to tell you how that ridiculous dinner party went and now that I have the dogs somewhat obedient, I can take the time to do that now.
The day of the event, I did not know it was supposed to be later in the evening, I thought it was supposed to be right after work so I went and got German girl, she came over to my house to get ready. In the meantime, (since I had about two hours), I had a beer or two. I thought the beer would keep me relaxed but the more we talked about the upcoming event, the more I realized that the beer was probably going to work against me and make me say or do something that I really wanted to do but really shouldn’t do. Besides, I was driving so I gave the rest my beer to German girl to finish.
Finally we get going. The trip was uneventful and I did know where I was going, for the most part, so it was pretty easy to find. We got there and the other three put out girls were already there. (Bride, HB and Marie.) And shockingly!!! they were already fucked up. The hell you say! I never saw that coming!
We were in the parking lot, the other three by Bride’s truck so they didn’t see me at first. They saw German girl and complimented her and talked to her...I waited, in the shadows, to see if anything would be said. Plus, I wanted to make damn good and sure that I had a clear sight of HB’s face when I stepped out of those shadows since she assumed I was going to look like shit. (You’ll have to excuse me but a trailer trash bitch thinking she has more class than I do really rubs me the wrong way.)
And I got a good look. She was astonished. “OH My God! You look good!”
I know.
Hag.
BUT, for Bride, I merely said, “Thanks.”
Bride then saw me and said pretty much the same thing and I’m sorry, ok, so I’m not the highest class person full of grace and poise so I just could not help myself. I said, so that HB could hear, “So, you’re saying I don’t look like a trash bag?!”
Ok, ok, stop! I told myself. Behave, we just got here.
We all walked in and went over to the bar because the lady boss wasn’t there yet. The bar tender was slow...painfully slow. Listen, in this town, you are not hired as a waiter, bartender or hostess because of your skill, you are hired because of the way you look and the service suffers greatly for it. Apparently this town insists on keeping up an image of what people think the beach should be like and sure, the people are pleasant to look at, some are fun to look at but damn, man, you are going to pay for that with slow ass shitty service. I’d rather have a mediocre looking person serve me fast and right.
First of all, it took her about 10 minutes to even come clean up the bar so we could sit down. Then she ordered two girls drinks and before the rest of us could say anything, she walked to a back room to make them.
Woah. What?! Excuse me?! You’re mixing the drinks WHERE?!
No. As a bartender, you mix those drinks RIGHT IN FRONT of the person you are serving or right there at the bar for the waiter/waitress to pick up. You do NOT go in to a back room to mix them, that is bullshit.
They ordered something simple, I don’t remember but it was a matter of a shot of alcohol, some club soda, (maybe?) and a shot of grenadine, it looked like. I’m assuming, it’s what it looked like not sure what they ordered as I didn’t hear. Regardless, each drink should take no more than about 20-30 seconds to make.
It took her 5 minutes a drink.
I do not exaggerate.
She came back with those drinks and ordered the next girl’s drink. Off she went again to the back room. Are we kidding here? You can’t remember 5 fucking orders? You can do them one or two at a time only? This is the type of bartender that I would NOT tip. I don’t make a habit of not tipping people but this was absurd.
She finally came back with third girl’s drink and got 4th girl’s order. I’m the last in the line but nope, I had to wait another 5 minutes for her to make that drink. Jeezus. Finally she came back and got my order and made the drink. By this time, the first two girls were done with their drink and were ordering another round.
Finally boss lady comes in and she orders a drink, we take photos, (I hate getting my picture taken), and eventually work our way to a table for dinner.
The ordering process took quite some time because the others couldn’t decide what they wanted, should they share this bucket of seafood, should they do something else....whatever, I get it. It wasn’t hard for me to decide because I had basically two choices-chicken, steak.
I decided on steak.
Nope, they don’t have that tonight.
Sigh, fine, give me the damn chicken.
While the decision process was still going, I and German girl went outside to smoke. I asked her how I was doing. She said I was doing good. HB hadn’t really given me much to say-just being her usual gossipy, bitch self but whatevs, man...she was at least being decent towards me so let it go.
Eventually everyone decides what they want to order, the good looking but DUMB waiter comes over and that whole nightmare begins. It was chaos. No one knew who had yet ordered because he didn’t do it around the table like a normal waiter would do. Since we are all girls, you start at the head of the table and work your way around the table. Nope. He just asked randomly while last minute decision conversations were going on so eventually no one knew if they had ordered, if their order had been taken, what did they order...omg.
He finally gets to Bride, she’s the last to order. After telling me that they don’t have steak tonight, he proceeds to tell her that what she’s ordering is not what she wants. LOL! Ok, I think it’s time for another smoke because I can’t watch this.
I came back in about 5 minutes later, they are still at it. She doesn’t want that because it’s for two people and when she says, “then can’t you just give me one of this and one of this?” he says he can’t, she would have to order this other item on the menu which turns out to be EXACTLY what she was asking for but she was fucked up on drugs and alcohol, he was stupid and so what should have been simple was not.
Then he had to go check on lobster size for an order made earlier by Marie. Apparently he did not know what size lobster they had before he came over to the table. I’m sorry...again, this is where we pay for the good looks but the idiotic mind. If you know you are going over to take an order for dinner and you are at a seafood restaurant, wouldn’t you...I don’t know...STOP BY THE FUCKING LOBSTER TANK to see what the hell is left in there before going to take orders because maybe, JUST MAYBE, someone will be ordering one of those lobsters? Am I the ONLY PERSON who thinks this way? Surely I cannot be the only one. Surely.
It took him 10 minutes to do this.
I do not exaggerate.
Conversations about work were flying around the table and I pretty much didn’t say anything because um, hello, the boss lady is sitting RIGHT there at the table! Hellooooooo!? Not only am I remaining sober because I have to drive, I’m remaining sober because I’m not going to get drunk and say something stupid in front of the second boss. Nothing positive ever comes from doing something like that.
HB was being her usual self, (oh and I forgot to tell you, she was sitting right next to me...gah), talking shit about everyone but I just kept sipping my drink and listening, saying nothing. Dig that hole, hag, keep digging that hole. Boss lady isn’t drinking either, did you notice?
During the course of the conversation I come to find out that all three of them had already been dipping in to their drugs before they came, were half drunk before they got in to Bride’s truck, were talking at excessively high levels on their way to the restaurant and completely missed their turn and got lost as a result.
No shit. (Let’s think back..."Please do not get out of control in my car.” OMG! She’s such a bitch! We know how to act in public! We know how to behave ourselves!) Right, I must have pulled all of that out of left field.
Eventually our food came, we ate, some had more and more and more alcoholic beverages and were getting so out of control that they were doing that drunk cackling, whoo-hooing, asking our waiter, Destiny, (yes, for the first time ever, I am using a “real” name on Serenity’s Journal because he told us that was his name but I’m betting it was his “stage” name and not a real name), when he was getting off of work, made numerous cracks about having Destiny’s child....basically being downright embarrassing. See, this wasn’t done at normal conversation levels...this was done at “I’m drunk off of my ass and can’t hear my own self” conversation levels. You know, so that everybody else in the restaurant could hear us. I looked around once in awhile and we were getting a lot of “those” looks from a lot of patrons. I was so thrilled to be there.
What made it worse is that it dragged on forever because they kept ordering drinks and Destiny took about 20 minutes to do anything. Frankly I think he was hiding in the back telling his fellow co-workers that he didn’t want to come back out and continue serving us.
Eventually we all left. You know the rest of my story...the dogs?
I did find out later that the other three others were again, out of control in Bride’s truck....Marie apparently fell out of the truck when they dropped her off and Bride and HB instead of helping her to her door said, “Let’s get out of here” and peeled out because they were embarrassed. THEY were embarrassed by Marie’s behavior. Bride then dropped HB off and there was a bit of commotion there as well but since it was HB and HB is the one who starts all kinds of shit and rumors and the like, there wasn’t much to that story.
Overall, HB and I did not have it out. She left me alone. She was too busy talking shit about everyone else who wasn’t there trying to impress boss lady. The three amigos got shit faced drunk after doing whatever drugs they had been doing and were loud, obnoxious and basically harassing the waiter. So, it turned out almost exactly like I thought it would.
And they all want to do it again.
Hell. To the NO!
Monday, August 09, 2010
Obviously Not Raised Right
So. Remember that redneck wedding, which, I guess we’ve now determined was more a White Trash wedding, that I attended in April? I mentioned that the bride was a co-worker and gave all the gory details about the experience.
I thought it was over. I thought I had done my part and life could move on. And I was wrong. Sorely! Mistaken!
Apparently, last week, lady boss, bride and another co-worker, (Hag Bitch), decided they were going to go out. They then decided to turn it in to a post bachelorette party for the bride since she never had one. They then decided that all the girls at work should attend. (This is 5 of us, total.) They then decided where we would go, when and who would be driving. Between the three of them, they made these plans without consulting anyone else first.
Come to find out, I was volunteered to drive these people all over creation for this party. Oh. How nice. Thanks for asking me if I wanted to do that. And then everything got stupid. Again. Naturally.
The plan was that we would go to a fish place, (the joy!), to eat and drink ourselves in to oblivion. It was to take place a week from inception. (That means, TODAY! Goody!) I walked in to the counter area and was informed of these plans and that HB would be riding with me, we would go to Bride’s house to pick her up, (since she has the day off), and then travel through shit rush hour traffic to a location about 45 minutes away from us, (really? there are no other restaurants closer? Really!?), to eat fish. (And it’s well known that I hate seafood. All of it.)
Because I try to keep some sort of peace at work, I don’t say too much, let a lot things go and just deal. I have to be there so many hours a week, you do what you have to do to just get through the fucking day sometimes, right?!
Because I was volunteered to drive, I decided that I’d better lay a few ground rules for my car.
Oh wait, I’m getting ahead of myself. I forgot to mention that one girl was not invited. I asked, “What about Marie?” (not her real name...do I really have to tell you that no one here gets a real name?) HB, who is a lying, manipulative, drama queen stated, “NO! She’s not invited!” I thought that was tacky and rude and that Marie’s feelings would definitely be hurt. Not cool. Apparently, after I pissed HB off, Marie was no longer the target, I was the target for all her issues and Marie was invited.
Ok, back to my ground rules.
Now I’m driving HB, Bride AND Marie to this place. No one asked me, I was just put in to that position. I really don’t like driving in rush hour traffic because people can’t drive for shit and I get irritated and usually do everything I can to avoid traffic and idiots. If I’m the passenger, well, usually I can be calmer about it because I don’t have to concentrate on 50,000 idiots all around me.
And concentrate I do. It only takes one good wreck in your life to change the way you look at people in other cars. So, I stated I had just a few requests for those who would be riding in my car.
1) They all smoke. I simply asked that they not all light up at the same time. That’s just gross.
2) Please do not bring any drugs in to my car. These three do drugs: pot, pills and rumors are some of them do coke. DO NOT bring drugs in to my car. The fuck if I’m going to get arrested for shit THEY do.
3) Please do not act insane and out of control in the car. (I was thinking more of after when we would be driving home and they would be tanked and stupid. I’ve seen how they act when sober, loud, obnoxious, out of control, I’ve seen HB when she’s drunk and it’s even worse. Multiply it by three people, plied with alcohol, I can only imagine the screaming, hollering and whoo-hooing going on in the car on the way home. I do not need to have any police officer looking at us twice.)
I made these requests a lot nicer than I’m saying them here. But I did stress that they were important and that if anyone could not adhere to those requests, I would not be driving them.
And the shit splattered right on through the fan.
HB, who is notorious for blowing things out of proportion decided to take it upon herself to get all offended, bitchy and completely twist everything I said so that she could lay down her victim card, YET again and tell everyone what a bitch I was.
My request that no drugs be present in my car was turned in to, “She says we’re smoking crack!”
My request that they don’t get out of control in my car turned in to, “Did you hear? We’re not allowed to have fun!”
My request that they not all smoke at the same time turned in to, “She’s going to leave us on the side of the road!”
Jeezus Fucking Keerist On A Bagel.
The following few days at work I came in, la, la, la, oblivious to the back stabbing that had taken place and was met with cold shoulders. Now, mind you, when I made these requests to all three people, all three stated, “Of course! I understand!” But apparently they did not understand and were highly offended. So they decided to talk shit and HB came up to me and said, “We’re all going with Bride.”
That was all she said.
GOOD! Then I don’t have to deal with a bunch of bullshit and maybe I can get out of this! (I really did not want to go. I really do not like these people...but I do get along to keep the peace at work. I just have no desire to hang out with these people during my off time.)
And I thought that was fine. I asked, “Oh. Ok, what made you decide that?” Curiosity. HB stated that they wanted to be able to smoke and that HB might be spending the night at Bride’s house that night anyway.
In my mind I thought, “Who the fuck said you couldn’t smoke?” but, you know what? I didn’t give a shit. I didn’t want to drive these hags around and this was an out. I would have, of course, but you volunteer me, I’m going to lay down some rules. IF they would have ASKED me if I would drive, I would have told them no and given my reasons why and that would have been fine but they did not do that now, did they? So, here they are, all fucking offended because they assumed that I would be their chauffeur and when I request that people behave themselves IN MY FUCKING CAR, they get all bent the fuck out of shape and start the bitch fest.
For days this went on. My God.
Finally I approached Bride and said, “I get the distinct feeling that you have been offended somehow.” See, up to this point, no one bothered to talk to me about it, you know, LIKE ADULTS do, they just wanted to piss and whine and make shit up behind my back. Because they are pathetic trash.
Bride pointed out the drugs thing and having a good time thing and I explained to her that I will say that to anyone I know who does drugs and gets in to my car. Don’t take it personal, I am trying to protect myself. You can do whatever you want anywhere else, I don’t care. I don’t care what anyone does as long as it does not affect me. The second it affects me or has the POTENTIAL to affect me, we will have issues. It’s a simple request. Please do not bring drugs in to my car. Why is that so difficult to understand why I would make such a request?
She said something about cocaine and that she was pissed that I implied she does cocaine. I laughed at her. I did. I then said, “I didn’t say you did cocaine. I never said that. I said no drugs in my car. I know, for a fact, that all three of you smoke pot. Whether you agree with it or not, pot is an illegal drug. I don’t want drugs in my car. How the leap was made from, ‘don’t bring drugs in to my car’ to ‘she said we all do cocaine’ is your issue, not mine. I never said that.
We discussed how if we were to get pulled over, I AM the one responsible for everything in my car because it’s my car, I’m the driver. I don’t need the fucking aggravation for shit I don’t do. Why even allow myself to be put in to that situation? Why not a little precaution? Just don’t bring drugs in my car. Easy.
So we talked it out and were fine. Ok.
By that time, HB had come out and I stated the same thing to her. She was all snotty and rude about the whole thing and claimed I was going to leave her on the side of the road for being out of control in my car. (Hmm...well, then, maybe I was fucking RIGHT to make that request since it appears she had every fucking intention of acting like a gottdamned idiot, then, wasn’t I? But HB is offended. What. The fuck. EVER!) She stated she wanted to be able to smoke. She wanted to be able to drink.
I told her I didn’t say no one could smoke, just please don’t all light up at the same time. I told her I didn’t say no one could drink. I said I would not be drinking since I’m driving. I don’t care if they poison themselves with alcohol, drink as much as you want. Who cares?
I explained to her the same thing I did to Bride but she still wanted to be all pissed off and put out so I said, rather forcefully, “Listen. I’ve explained this to you, you took it personally, you’ve turned it in to something it wasn’t, it’s not a big fucking deal, it was a simple request. I am not trying to offend anyone, I’ve discovered that you do feel offended and I’m now trying to tell you why I’ve made these requests. YOU are not special. This isn’t about YOU, personally. These are the exact same requests I would make to anyone who gets in my car if we are going out. If you want to continue to take it personally and be offended, I cannot help you.”
That was the end of that conversation.
Well that didn’t go over well with HB at all.
The next day, the German girl came back after her days off and she told me that the very first thing HB told her was, “OMG, you missed it all!!!!!” and told her about our little discussion. Of course, how HB saw it and not how it actually went down. (See, me and German girl actually get along because we talk to each other like adults and don’t back stab each other at every opportunity.)
So I rolled my eyes a bit and said to German girl that maybe I wouldn’t go to this stupid thing after all because while HB may get away with a lot at work, (again, some battles just aren’t worth fighting and you do what you can to keep some sort of peace), outside of work, that’s a WHOLE FUCKING DIFFERENT STORY. See, HB does NOT get to talk to me like that outside of work. HB thinks she knows me but she doesn’t know one fucking thing about me. She sees what I show her at work. She does not know me. And truthfully, that bitch would have me up in her fucking shit face and setting things absolutely right if she spoke to me outside of work the way she does to me at work. She would not even bother to open her fucking pie hole about me.
Then I heard from German girl that HB was telling everyone I was going to look like shit. She assumed that I was going to wear crappy clothes while the rest of them got all dressed up. The bitch has never seen me outside of work except for the wedding. She’s only ever seen me wearing work clothes. It’s not even that she made that assumption based on anything, she’s just trying to make this some sort of attack before we go.
Then I started to realize what the fuck she was doing. Again, she likes to manipulate and I know exactly what the fucking bitch is doing. She’s trying to push me OUT of this party so that all the other girls will go, talk shit about me and then have their inside jokes at work for a few months and keep pushing me out of their “circle”. To make me look bad.
Well then. I won’t give that fucking cunt the fucking pleasure. I’m going to go. And I’m going to act exactly how I always act outside of work and one bullshit word or smart ass comment from her, I will ACT exactly how I act towards ANY BODY outside of work who talks to me like that.
But first, I decided to fuck with her a bit.
German girl was standing next to me yesterday behind the counter while HB and Bride were at the registers. I told German girl, “Watch this.”
I waited a moment.
I then walked up to HB and Bride and said, “So. This fish place...is it fancy or what?”
HB said it was like a casual place, they were going to wear jeans.
I said, “OH GOOD! So that means I can wear these pants there. Awesome!” (Indicating my work pants.)
I stepped back and watched their facial twitches.
German girl is trying hard to hold back the smirk.
I then said, (we are still standing behind HB and Bride), loudly, “Hey, German girl. Do you have a brown marker?”
German girl said, “I think so, why?”
Me: “Because the tennis shoes I’m going to wear tomorrow are a little scuffed on the brown part and since we’re going out, to a restaurant and all, I figured maybe I’d better fill in those scuff marks to match the rest of the brown on the shoes. You know, to look nice. I can’t wear other shoes because these tennis shoes match my work pants and I want to look good.”
German girl is now about ready to split from laughter so she holds her coffee cup up to her mouth trying to hide behind it.
I keep a straight face and look right at HB.
HB is looking at me out of the corner of her eye, eyes darting back and forth to Bride and then to me. I can tell she wants to say something but she is too chicken shit to do so. I proceed to stand there for a good 5 minutes and let her fucking squirm. It’s KILLING her not to say something shitty about me to Bride but she can’t say it while I’m there. I can see it.
I continue to stare at her. She is hating it that I’m still there. Holy shit she wants to talk!
Finally I say, “Cool. Yah, that’s good. Great, I have my outfit all picked out. Now I can concentrate on other things.” I then walk away so that HB can spew her verbal diarrhea before she explodes.
Later, Bride comes out and I tell her, “Listen, I respect you. I’m not going to wear shit clothes. I’m not going to embarrass you. Just so that you know, I went out and bought a new pair of pants and shoes for this, last week, because I do have respect for you. HB is going around telling people I’m going to look like a trash bag so I’m fucking with her right now. Just let me fuck with her. You saw me at your wedding. Did I look like shit at your wedding? Right, because I do respect you. I’m going to this because I respect you. So don’t worry.”
Bride was relieved. She actually thought I was going to show up looking like shit after that display of fucking with HB.
And Bride also said she just wants us to have peace and a good time. I said, “That’s what this was supposed to be. I don’t know how it went from simple requests to this bullshit.” She said she hoped we could all just go and have a good time. I decided that, ok, put away my disgust of HB right now, go to this party, have a good time, behave myself when HB pisses me the fuck right off, and just get through this. For Bride. Because I do respect her. I like her. I wouldn’t hang out with her outside of work but I do like her as a co-worker.
So. I’ll behave.
BUT, as long as everyone kept their yaps shut that I was fucking with HB, she’s going to be damned surprised when I walk in that door. See, bitch, I clean up very well. I won’t say, “Fuck you”, but I’ll be thinking it.
I’ll let you know how it all went tomorrow. Or later tonight if I get home at a decent hour and it wasn’t boring.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Trial Run
We’ll see how this goes.
So there I was, innocently sipping on a Diet Coke when my neighbor walked by. I, stupidly, asked him if he had gotten his air conditioner fixed yet. See, last week, this lonely, miserable, complaining fuck had a guest over, a girl guest, (not like that...although I’m sure he wishes), and I thought, “Good for him. Maybe it will put him in a better mood.” He always walks around, pissed off, mumbling about some thing or other that has pissed him off lately. And let me tell you, the list appears to be endless. But, he now had a guest and he seemed excited that she was there so I was hoping for good things.
Sigh. Why do I even care about other people? Why? I never win.
At some point during her visit, his air conditioner broke. I felt bad for her in that she stayed in his house while he was at work and I’m sure it was uncomfortable even with a fan. I felt bad for him because here he finally has a guest and this shit happens. (And that was my first mistake, feeling bad.)
I’m not exactly sure what this person spends his money on but he never has any money. He had asked me about the air conditioner repairman I used recently, (my a/c went to shit but thankfully was under warranty so I got a new one..hurray!), because the guy I used was out the next day, tried to fix it, realized it needed replacement and was back out with the new unit the next day. No kidding. The other neighbors rely on some other old dude who may or may not bother to return your phone calls and may or may not make time for you to look at your a/c unit sometime in the next couple of weeks. Screw that. I live for my a/c and I’m not waiting on some old dude to decide he wants my business or not. So despite the howling protests, (and why on earth do these people CARE who I use, my GOD, I do not get that), I looked up a/c repair people on the internet and called my guy. (And this was after I placed three phone calls to old dude who never once acknowledged I existed.)
ANYway, he called my guy but because his a/c unit is not under warranty, it was going to cost him $90 to have the guy come out and whatever the charge to fix it. Neighbor guy does not have the money. (Really?) So he decided instead to contact “John”...He of the Shitty Underpants. Yep, my other next door neighbor. “John” or He of the Shitty Underpants, has been known to fix an air conditioner or two in his life time. Personally I would never let He of the Shitty Underpants touch anything of mine because he’s always tanked and on pills and when it comes time to pay his rent at the beginning of the month, he calls the ambulance instead and gets taken away for yet another “heart attack”. He’s working the sympathy route, see. He has plenty of money to drink and smoke and pop pills all month long but cannot come up with money to pay his rent.
So He of the Shitty Underpants went over to look at the other neighbor’s a/c unit. Let’s call other neighbor...Cry. Yes, that perfectly suits him. Cry needed a new compressor or some shit.
Ok, fast forward a few days to the beginning of this story. I, stupidly, asked if he got his a/c fixed. He told me he had, he said it was the compressor, He of the Shitty Underpants had fixed it and then, with no warning whatsoever, he started yelling, “And I’m cutting down that fucking bamboo tree!”
What the hell?
I said, “What the hell?”
He replied, angrily, “I’m cutting that fucking tree down on my next day off because it’s destroying my house.”
Sigh. Ok, my yard is small and there is a bamboo tree in my yard between my house and Cry’s house. Most of the stalks, (I guess they’re called), actually lean towards MY house and I’m constantly having to go to the roof and clean off the leaves as well as in my yard. The tree can reach over to Cry’s house but I typically do a good job of keeping it trimmed down.
So I stated, “No, you’re not. I can trim it up if it’s touching anything but you’re not cutting it down.”
I’ll spare you most of the drama that occurred in the following 5 minutes because it entailed him screaming and cursing and yelling that he fucking was cutting it down, fuck me if I didn’t like it, he didn’t care, it was destroying his house, everyone here only cares about themselves and now he’s going to care only about himself and fuck everyone and on and on. Periodically I would say, “Again, no, you’re not, if you would show me where this destruction is happening, I’ll trim the tree back”.
Finally I got pissed. I actually had to consult the fucking land owner. That pissed me off even more. I explained the situation. The land owner started laughing saying Cry could never operate a chain saw, don’t worry. I told him that Cry was determined to cut it down and I was furious. Land Owner said to tell Cry that it would be trimmed, Cry would not be cutting it down.
I informed Cry of this. Cry then proceeded to scream and curse again about how he can’t believe I went to Land Owner, curse, curse, curse, curse, curse, scream, froth at the mouth, blow a blood vessel, etc.
So Cry went back and screamed and wet his pants in front of Land Owner. Land Owner comes back to me and says, “Well, you know, if it’s destroying his house....” I said, “It is NOT destroying his house. I can trim it back but it does not need to come down.” So Land Owner said to allow me to trim it back. If that didn’t work then we would cut it down.
What the fuck does the asshole expect me to do? You can’t fucking speak to me in a civil fucking tone, you can’t fucking listen to reason, you can’t fucking talk calmly and come to a compromise, you just do it your way and fuck the world? No, asshole fucker, it doesn’t work that way. He left me no alternative BUT to go this route and that also pissed me off because I can’t stand having to fucking do shit like this over PETTY! ASS! CRAP! It makes EVERYONE look fucking stupid.
I looked at that tree from every possible angle and could not, for the life of me, figure out what the hell Cry was talking about. NOTHING touches his fucking house. He claimed it was when the wind was blowing. >smack forehead< Are any of you in any way familiar with bamboo trees? Those stalks are not exactly limber. They don’t bend and flex all that much in the wind. I stood at the base of the tree and pushed and pulled on the stalks trying to get one of them to touch Cry’s house and NONE OF THEM moved more than 1/4 inch. In other words, no they fucking were NOT touching his fucking piece of shit house.
So, yesterday, I hear He of the Shitty Underpants out in his yard with a chain saw. Oh hell no mother fucker. I bolted out the door. Come to find out he was just chopping back branches from some trees that are near our properties “in case of a hurricane”. Fair enough.
We discussed the destructible bamboo tree, the tree of EVIL!, and HotSU told me that he had cut the limbs back already and Cry helped him carry the limbs to the truck. Oh, ho ho! Did we forget to fucking include that bit of information, you asshole, Cry?
This would be why I could not figure out what the hell Cry was crying about. HotSU showed me where one of the stalks/limbs had been rubbing on a small part of Cry’s house. Ok, so there was a bit of damage. Not a lot, nothing that can’t be easily (and I mean, EASILY), fixed. Ok, though. But the offending stalk/limb had been trimmed back so there was no problem anymore and no need for the fucking drama queen to insist on taking a chain saw to the whole thing. Regardless, I had HotSU cut the stalks/limbs (the two he started), lower so that Cry had nothing at all to piss and moan about. He wanted to chop the entire thing down over a limb. One fucking limb.
Instead of saying, “Hey, Serenity, you need to keep the tree trimmed because, as you can see here, one of the stalks/limbs grew towards my house and has made that scrape mark you see there. Please don’t let that happen again.”
Ok! I would have been happy to!
But I didn’t get that fucking kind of respect, now did I?
So, the deal with the Land Owner was that I would trim the tree back from Cry’s house, we would see how that went and if it worked, case closed. If it appeared that the tree would continue to DESTROY Cry’s house, the whole thing would be chopped down.
I cannot fucking wait to talk to Land Owner. I’m also taking photographs so that Cry cannot make other claims later on. He is that kind of person. And in the end, with Land Owner and Cry both in attendance, I’m going to mention that perhaps I might lend a little more credence to Cry’s claims about caring about his property if he got his fat fucking ass out and washed off the blanket of dark green mold that circles the top part of his house and cleaned the garbage up out of his yard.
Fucking piece of shit.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Future
I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to keep doing this site. I haven’t decided yet but I have to say I’m tired of putting out fluff pieces for the masses. Oh yah, people always say, “write what you want” but do you know what the fuck happens every single gottdamned time I “write what I want”? Some asshole comes along and makes a comment about what I’m writing, “You’re better than this” or they don’t find it interesting or some kind of shit.
I have a completely private journal I’ve been writing in because of that type of shit right there. Who gives a shit if what I’m writing about is petty ass bullshit? You know what, kids? A lot of what I deal with on a day to day basis IS petty ass bullshit. Right now I’m having a fucking argument with a neighbor over a fucking bamboo tree. He claims it is “destroying my house”, shouting, screaming, cursing, threatening to take a chain saw, go in to my yard and chop the whole thing down and it’s not even FUCKING TOUCHING HIS GOTTDAMNED HOUSE EVEN WHEN THE WIND BLOWS.
I asked him to show me where this tree is “DESTROYING!!!!!11!!1!!!” his house. I even set up a specific time. Did he show? No. But he still threatens. I don’t own the land so it’s not like I can get him on trespassing or things like that so let’s not even go there with that advice.
I like the tree, I want it to say, it doesn’t touch his fucking house and frankly I’m really fucking pissed off over the whole thing because he brought it up, out of the blue, raging and screaming about it and not once has he spoken to me like a fucking calm adult about it and I’m so gottdamned mother fucking pissed off and I want to write it about it here but I don’t feel free to do that because some fucking cock sucking asshole is going to come here and say, “I don’t want to read that shit, I want to read about politics, not petty ass bullshit.”
FUCK!!LK@JKL@JKJRajfknafklsdan! FUCK!!!!
I wish everyone in my life would stop trying to fucking tell me what to do, stop trying to force what they fucking want down my throat, stop fucking disrespecting me and fucking TALK TO ME LIKE A FUCKING ADULT. And if you don’t like something, be tactful and nice about it or SHUT. THE FUCK. UP!
I’ve got a lot of rage building right now and if I’m not allowed to get that the fuck out of my system, it’s going to be really bad. LET ME FUCKING VENT.
Thursday, July 08, 2010
Miserable Attitudes
It’s official. St. Hope and Change is about the biggest twat I’ve ever seen. The absurdity of this asshole knows no bounds.
That’s all I’ve got for today, kids. I have one more day in a 10 day work “week”. My boss threw this at me on Sunday when it was supposed to be my Friday that I would get the distinct pleasure of working another 5 days without a day off.
I’ve been working long hours in the boiling ass heat with no break for 9 fucking days and he had the audacity today to say that I looked, “miserable” and that “we can’t have that kind of attitude around here” and that if I didn’t squash that “miserable” attitude, I could lose my job.
Hey, fucker, did it ever occur to you that the reason I look, “miserable” is because I’m FUCKING EXHAUSTED!?!?!?!
But hey, he’s not at all upset that I called my insurance company. No, this is all just fucking coincidence.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Yee Fricken Haw
Today I attended an event the types I never, in eleventymillion years, would have thought I’d find myself attending. It’s almost embarrassing but the experience must go down for prosperity....or some shit. Maybe I just want to complain. Me? COMPLAIN?
Today.....sigh....I attended......a redneck wedding.
Now, to those who are rednecks....I certainly hope you have better class than the people that were at this wedding and that you enjoy your redneck status. You do what you want, I don’t care, it’s just not my thing. I’m sure many things I enjoy you would not like. So don’t start writing me nasty comments about being a redneck and how wonderful it is. I’m sure you’re happy that way. It’s just not my thing. Are we capiscing each other?
For the rest of you, stop fucking laughing.
The only reason I went is because it was the wedding of a co-worker and I didn’t have it in me to tell her I didn’t want to go. She’s one of the very few co-workers that is not a gossiping, backstabbing, whining bitch. (Bitch refers to men and women where I work.)
So. I went.
And it was everything I feared it would be.
I arrived about 10 minutes before the wedding was supposed to start. I parked my car and sat there for a moment, gazing at the wedding guests. The ones I saw took no effort to show any sign of respect that this was a wedding, a nice event, and did not bother to dress up in the slightest. These people looked like they do every other day in their printed t-shirts, dirty baseball caps and jeans. Every last one of them had a beer in their hand and some of them were already highly intoxicated.
God.
I reluctantly got out of my car and wandered over to where everyone was sitting. I noticed some of my co-workers and since they were the only people I knew there, sat down next to them. A few of them made the effort to dress up and I was quite surprised at how well some of them clean up. One girl I work with whom I despise greatly actually looked pretty decent and I internally thanked her for showing our co-worker bride respect. There were a handful of other people, mostly women, who I did not know, who dressed up but the rest, about 90% of the people looked like they had just dragged themselves out of the bar after an all night drinking fest. One of our co-workers showed up in his work clothes. Seriously?
And of course I got the obligatory stupid comment from a few of my male co-workers about my attire and how they’d never seen me in girl clothes and making all kinds of comments that apparently they use on girls at the bar and I guess these stupid girls fall for it but I’m older now and don’t have time for bullshit from guys anymore. I told them it might be better if they put that bottle in their pie hole and to stop while they were ahead. They’re scared of me so they pretty much did just that.
Oh, this was at an airboat place, (not where I work but close), that has lots for trailers, (travel trailers), so it’s not much of a set up for a wedding, rather it looks like a trailer park. Of course it would be held there. Plus, earlier in the day we had some severe thunder and lightning storms with a shit load of rain so the ground was still wet and in some areas one could sink in it if they weren’t careful where they stepped.
As I stated, some people were already plastered and pilled out and of course my neighbor whom I despise, (he of the shitty underpants), was there making a spectacle of himself. He and his girlfriend dove in to the food for the reception and when people told him to stay out of it he whined that he was hungry and needed food. Nevermind that this was scheduled to give people time to get off of work, go home, get some food, clean up, change clothes, etc. He was so sloppy drunk that he had food all over his face and shirt and someone got him a napkin while saying, loudly, “I guess “John” doesn’t realize he needs a napkin.”
(I had told the bride weeks earlier that if “John” was acting like this, I was fucking leaving as soon as the wedding was over. It’s bad enough I have to live next to him...I do not need to fucking hang around him and his drunk, stupid ass.)
Eventually we all made our way over to the spot where the ceremony was to take place, some stumbled. My neighbor of the shit filled underwear, (you may remember him from a recent episode here at Serenity’s Journal), who was already three sheets to the wind and loud, obnoxious and disgusting, slobberingly bellowed to everyone:
“Shtep around here in a shircle everyone. Make a shircle. C’mon guys...shircle!!!!! (Random name) get over on thish shide of the shirckkkllle sho it ckkan be efen. Sherenity, ckkome up here.”
“I’m fine where I am.”
“Ockhay....everyone wantsh to shay shomething?”
Random Person Who Has To Deal With Dipshit All The Time: “John! Enough.” “John” quiets down....for a minute or two.
We wait. We make small talk. People swill beer. “John” bellows out more random, drunken stupidity. More beer chugging. Belching. A random fart noise that stilled the air for a moment. More swigging of beer, people too disrespectful and halfway tanked to walk to the bathroom facilities, rather, turning their backs and whizzing right there in to the water of the Everglades...right next to the guests, “John” continuing to make an ass out of himself, people haw hawing over stupid, cliche jokes, talks about walking back to the reception area to grab more beer. “Hurry up with the ceremony, I’m runnin’ out of beer. Burp!!!!!” “HAW, HAW, HARRRRRRRR!”
Jeezus...yes, please hurry up with this.
About 45 minutes later the Maid of Honor comes tearing down the road in her truck and informs us that the bride will be there in two minutes. She then proceeds to spin her tires on the gravel road, throwing rocks all over the party, flings her truck on to the grass and slams it in to reverse before peeling out again while in reverse, throwing more rocks around. The owner of the place and another who runs his business there yelled out to her, made her stop her car and basically cussed her out in front of everyone. Girl was hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh as a kite. She argued at first but after being threatened to be thrown out of the place, (it is gated...ooooh! gated community! Hardly), she decided to calm down and apologize. She drove off slowly towards the trailer that the bride was getting ready in. Yes, I said “trailer”.
About an hour after start time, the bride pulls up in her truck with a bridesmaid, we all clap, “thank GOD this is getting started”, and it gets started. Except, whoops, we forgot the bride’s ring. So the bride’s maid runs down the gravel road in her high heels towards the trailer in the back to retrieve the ring. She brings it back, hands it to the Maid of Honor who is hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh as a kite and she then proceeds to hand it to the bride who is also hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh as a kite until the.....uh.....I don’t think it was a priest....whoever, told her to hold on to it. Maid of Honor gave her a dirty look and appeared that she might be combative towards the may or may not be a priest but decided to scowl the rest of the time instead.
Whee! We’re having fun now!
All quiet down and listen. The entire ceremony took about 3 minutes. Now, I know the bride and the groom because of work and there actually was a touching moment there because I noticed that the groom never broke eye contact with the bride and he got a little teared up which actually gave me a lump in my throat as well. (Back story on him...he’s dying of cancer and he’s rail thin, has lost most of his hair and it’s obvious he’s not doing well. This is why this couple decided to get married. Yes, they love each other and they have been together about 4 years. The marriage is so that the bride can take care of him and his needs and not have a hospital or lawyer deny her that.) So, even though thus far the whole thing was surreal, it did have a few sweet moments.
During the part where the bride gives the groom his ring, the bride was so nervous, (and hiiiiiiiiiiigh as a kite), that she could not repeat the words and put the ring on the groom. So, when she was done repeating the words, she was still fumbling around trying to put the ring on the groom. The may or may not be priest didn’t notice and had continued on before looking up to realize the situation. She stopped reading and it was going to be a quiet little joke between her and the couple except that good ol shit underpants “John” had to bark out yet again, “Yur gettin’ ahead of yourshelf, they don’t even have the durn ringsh on yet.” Again, from somewhere in the crowd we heard, “John! Nok it off.” And shit underpants shut his damn mouth.
So, now they are announced as husband and wife, they give a good ol’ kiss and everyone applauds. The next thing I know, half the damn crowd is leaving to the reception area to “get their drink on”. I hung around to give the bride a hug. She saw me and I guess she must not have thought I was coming because she looked at me and started crying, “Oh Serenity! Serenity! Thank you so much! I respect you so much...thank you, thank you, thank you so much!!” And that girl hugged me hard. I thought it was because she was hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh as a kite but I noticed she didn’t do that to anyone else. Well. Then. Hm.
I shook the groom’s hand and congratulated him. Stayed around for a photo or two and planned my escape. As I was doing this, some random guy I do not know, have never seen in my life, came up to me and told me that the last wedding he went to they were out on an island. That everyone arrived by airboats. It took them three days to get everyone out there by airboat.
Since that was all he said about it I asked, “And how did that work out?” (Note to self: STOP ASKING FUCKING QUESTIONS TRYING TO BE NICE AND SOCIAL. YOU ALWAYS LOSE.)
He replied: “It didn’t. And that was the third one. He couldn’t keep it in his pants. Chose to put it in other people’s pants.”
OMG, why the fuck did I open my mouth?
Another co-worker I get along with came up to me and I was telling her I was getting ready to leave. She wanted to know why. I said, “Oh, I’m sorry, I guess I wasn’t clear that when I said, ‘I hate these people’, I really meant that I hate these people.”
She said she wasn’t here for these people, she was here for the bride and besides, if Mr. Grumpy Pants gets grouchy enough, she was going to beat his ass in front of everyone even if she had to do it without a shirt on.
WTF?!
I said, “I am here because of the bride. The wedding is now over. I’m done.”
I made my way to my car, passing the reception area as I went. It was like looking at intoxicated monkeys in a zoo. Only one person stopped me along the way demanding to know where I was going. “Home.” “See ya”, she said, all offended. I don’t understand why she was offended because while I know her, it’s not like we’re best friends. I’m not going to sit around and watch people get even more drunk, get in fights, make fools of themselves and then all get in to their cars and drive home. Shit faced. Because I am driving, I’m not drinking so this would not be fun no matter how many times a couple of my co-workers said it would be. ‘Just stay to watch the drunk fighting. It’ll be funny.’ Uh, no. It won’t. I can see that kind of shit in my own neighborhood every single night. It’s gone past the funny stage to the “pathetic and disgusting” phase. When I can walk out my door at least once a month to catch a live episode of “Cops”, trust me, the fun factor wears thin.
Got in my car and got the fuck out of there.
It was never on my bucket list but I can put it down there now. I have officially attended a red neck wedding and I will never do that shit again.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
You Asked For It
I gotta tell ya, kids, reading the comments from the last post has made me realize, some of you don’t take me seriously. This story makes peopleofwalmart.com, for example, pale in comparison. And yes, I’ve, too, been in the military and heard some disturbing things but this, for me, is worse than anything I’ve ever heard the guys talk about. But, since you all think you can take it, here we go:
First, a little background. I believe I’ve mentioned this character a time or two on this site. I have a co-worker who lives in my neighborhood and unfortunately, that means I get to know more about my co-worker’s life than I care to know. I call him Paris because he is always vying for attention even if it means making himself look stupid. And I mean, STOO! PID! When he tells his stories, he thinks everyone is laughing with him but no, we are all laughing AT him. Idiot.
Anyhoo....as I was thinking about writing this little story, I thought of another story of another neighbor and thought maybe I should start off with that one. You know, kind of ease you in to the filth that lives around me. But no, I think I’ll go right for the throat and deliver the second story as a kicker. You know, while you’re down?
Last week, PH, (Paris, remember?), was in his house with his son and his son’s girlfriend. They all live there and you can always hear them blabbering, getting drunk, cranking the shit music too high, you know, typical crap neighbor stuff. I always thought PH was just a piece of shit, lonely, lacking self esteem and really stupid but I was wrong. He’s worse than that.
See, at about 8pm last week, he came flying out of his door, out of his yard and in to the street, yelling and screaming about something. Naturally, the neighborhood was interested, (or, in some cases, had no choice but to hear), in what was going on. Slowly, heads poked out of doorways, people wandered in to their yards to watch the latest spectacle. Oh the fit PH was throwing. A temper tantrum of incredible magnitude.
He stomped back and forth, practically frothing at the mouth, arms gesturing wildly, beady little eyes growing smaller, face getting darker and darker red, it was something to behold. Everyone wanted to know what was going on. Why was PH so mad! What could they do to help or maybe calm him down?
And then, PH said something that made us all realize, there wasn’t a thing we could do. Hell, there wasn’t a thing we wanted to do. In fact, after PH revealed the problem, at the top of his lungs for several blocks to hear, everyone went back inside and tried to pretend they didn’t hear what they just heard. Or in some cases, some people giggled about it for hours afterwards. (No, not me. I was hovering over the toilet waiting for the puke to rise.)
You see, kids, what upset PH so much was something that had happened inside the home. Apparently, and I don’t know how, nor, frankly, do I WANT to know how, PH caught his son with something PH owns and PH was mighty upset about finding it. How he found it, again, I just really do not want to know. But when the item was discovered on the person of his son, PH decided to fly out of his home, through his yard and into the street to bellow, at the top of his lungs for all the neighborhood to hear....
PH: “Get my buttplug out of your ass! That is my buttplug! I cannot believe you are using my buttplug! Gottdamnit, why are you using my buttplug!?!?”
...........
...........
Yes. Apparently, at some point, the son found a butt plug sitting around in the house. Obviously he didn’t buy it. His girlfriend didn’t buy it. But he decided to go ahead and insert it in to his ass anyway. And, apparently, at some point, his father, PH, was staring at his son’s butt and noticed his buttplug in his son’s ass. And then proceeded to inform the entire neighborhood about it.
...........
...........
...........
Right. Shall we go on to the next bit now?
The neighbor who lives right next door to me has a little history of his own antics out here. Thankfully, what happened did not happen while I was here, living next door to him. DrunkFuck, we shall call him. Apparently, some time back, DF was also a crack addict. For all I know, he still is. I just see him drunk. All the time. And he’s one of those drunks who never shuts the fuck up and thinks he’s the authority on everything in the world. I try to avoid him at all costs and only talk to him if absolutely necessary. Like, when the stupid fuck puts his BBQ grill right under my bedroom window so that when he BBQs, my house fills up with smoke and carbon monoxide while I and the cats choke. After two times of this, I had to confront DF.
Anyway, so, he’s in his house one day, drunk, coked out, all kinds of messed up. (Such winners in this neighborhood.) As the legend goes, at some point in time he got in a fight with his old lady. (Different person than who he is with today.) I don’t know what the fight was about or what started it and I don’t care. I do know that alcohol + drugs + two idiots = fight. So they were arguing, loudly, and getting in to it physically. I mean, physically hurting each other. Somehow, DF ended up in just his underwear. Again, I wasn’t here, I don’t know, I don’t care. However, during the altercation with the old lady, she somehow managed to pull his underwear off of him and fling it out the door.
It smacked the window of the neigbhor’s house and stuck there for a minute before sliding down the side. The neighbor was inside their home, minding their own business when they heard something slap the window they were sitting next to. They opened the blinds and were greeted by a pair of underwear filled with human shit stuck to their house. They then, in horror, watched the underwear slide down the house leaving a trail of residue behind.
Now. Kids. Are you getting the full picture? Are you now understanding how serious this is? Will you start taking me seriously in what I say from here on out? When I say something, it’s because I fucking mean it. It’s not because I can’t handle something small or the things that bother me are petty. It’s because I fucking mean it.
Are we all on the same page now?
I hope so. Don’t make me pull out more of these stories because I do have more.
While it may be intended or not, there are times when I feel patronized by some of the things some people say to me in comments and it bothers me. I decided that maybe I have not made myself clear for everyone and that I wasn’t illustrating it fully so that you all could/would understand. I hope this clears any of that business up and that, in the future, you might all give me the benefit of the doubt when I say something is wrong, something is off, something is bad, something isn’t right, something bothers me, etc.
These are my neighbors. When I say my neighbors suck and I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here, I mean it. Do you understand now?
Monday, March 08, 2010
Where's The Hidden Camera?
Kids....sigh....this has to be a joke. Seriously, this is like Candid Camera or some practical joke show and you’re all in on it....aren’t you!?
I have a story to share that would fully explain my neighbors but I’m just not sure how much “disgusting” you can handle. What is your tolerance level, kids? And I mean, gross, disgusting, I really did not need to know that, someone please erase my memory sort of story.
I have to share it with someone. I cannot go through life with this information kept to myself. But, I just don’t know what you all can take. I know I can barely take it...hell, no, I can’t take it and this only drives me on towards getting the fuck out of here.
Nonetheless, I’ll share it only if you all can take it. If I were Acidman, I’d just throw it out there and you would all have to suck it up and quit your sniveling about it but I’m not Acidman...I’m asking before I scrape your braincells from your head.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Pop Quiz
It’s quiz time, kids. It appears that I have some pretty intelligent readers so I thought I’d give you a problem and you give me the answer. I’ve decided that maybe I’m just too harsh on some people, my expectations too high. Maybe the answer isn’t as easy as I thought it was. So, if you’ll entertain me here, I’d like you to all picture the following scenario:
You are driving a boat, (without brakes or reverse), down a channel in a southern direction. The wind is blowing hard in a northern direction. The dock is to your left. You must turn the boat a complete 180 to parallel park the boat so that the dock will end up on your right when you are finished and ready to offload. You have minimal room to do this as the channel is not that wide and there are other boats parallel parked to the dock very close to the front and back end of your boat. Because of this, it is a given that you will need assistance at the dock to park.
With me so far?
You are driving south at about 5mph. The wind is blowing north at about 25mph. (At you.) You need to turn your boat 180 degrees so that the dock that is now on your left, will end up on your right. A person is standing on the dock to assist you with your parallel parking because of the strong winds. Here is a stick figure illustration of what I mean:
I’d also like to add that you are sitting on the back of the boat, steering, and the steps for you to get off of the boat are also at the back, right below your seat. You have a rope at the front of the boat and a rope at the back of the boat. You will eventually tie both ends up to posts on the dock to keep the boat secure to the dock. (Use props if you have to, kids.)
Ok, you begin your turn. Keeping in mind that the wind is blowing north and you are changing position from south to north and you want the back end of your boat to hit the dock first so that you can get down and tie your boat, tell me, when the front end of the boat approaches the dock, should the person standing on the dock:
a) grab that front rope and pull the front end of the boat towards the dock
or
b) kick the front end of the boat off the dock
I’m not giving the answer away, kids. I really want to see if I’m just being too hard on people and that this isn’t common sense. Or basic science...or basic math. You don’t have to ever have driven a boat to be able to answer this, is my opinion. If you take a moment and factor in all the information I gave you, you should arrive at the correct answer. Like I said, use props if you have to. Hell, take a pencil and put it in some bathwater and blow on it, if you have to.
I look forward to the answers. And no cheating!
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
Where Were You In November?
This time of year is our busy season. We start to build up, slowly, late October, get a big rush between Christmas and New Years, settle down for about a week or two and then we are slammed from mid January to May.
Normally.
And when I say, “slammed”, I mean, we don’t get a break. They toss water bottles at us, sometimes something to eat and we continue, tour after tour after tour after tour until we want to scream.
Last year, around this time, when everyone was hurraying St. Hope and Change’s win, I warned them. I told them, “Better start saving your money now because you won’t see much next year.” And, as with everything, these pot head alcoholic burn outs think they know more than I do. They did not listen. They brushed me off as if I was saying something really stupid. I mean, they were making money, hand over fist, at the time, no need to pay attention to that. The money isn’t going to run out, look at all this money! Pscht. What do you know, Serenity?
Except...hmm.
Where are all the people? Where’s all the money? This is our busy season, is it not? Why are we sitting around like it’s the summer time? Why are you all complaining about how little money you’re making? I thought you all knew better than I did and we would having nothing to worry about. Didn’t you all “pscht” me last year when I predicted this? Do any of you assholes remember anything I said? I’ll remind you:
I said: “You better hold on to what money you are getting now to see you through the next year because we will not be getting a season like this next year with St. Hope and Change now in office and the Dems running the place. I’m serious. Wait until all of those people in the north start getting their heating bills next winter. They will not be coming down here because they won’t be able to afford it. Wait a few months after St. Hope and Change gets his way with this ridiculous trillion dollar spending and people end up without a job at all. Give it a few months, it’ll start. And they won’t be able to afford to come down here. The fucking morons of this country have assured that you and I will NOT have a busy season next year. Watch.”
That’s pretty much verbatim what I said.
And they all ignored me because a) that’s too confusing and too much to think about and/or b) what the hell do I know? I’m just a girl, I don’t know anything.
So, here we are. This year, during our “busy season”, not making half the money we should be making, not taking half the boats we should be taking. And people are starting to get restless. And complain. Loudly. Pissed off they are.
And because it’s necessary, I say, “I told you.” Because while most of the time that is annoying as shit and fucking pisses me off when people say it, this time, these assholes deserve it. “I told you all this last year. I told you all that we wouldn’t be making any money this year because everyone voted for that fucking idiot in to office and you all fucking tools believe the Dems have your best interests at heart. You fucking twits. THAT is why you’re not making any money, idiots! The people cannot afford to come here and spend money on a vacation. I tried to tell you this last year and you all acted like I was stupid. The people aren’t here. They don’t have jobs. They have high heating costs. They have no fucking money. YOU all allowed this to happen. YOU all did this to your fucking selves. NOW you get to see the results of your own actions or inactions. If you voted for St. Hope and Change, it’s your own fucking fault you aren’t making shit this year. If you didn’t vote at all, it’s your own fucking fault that you aren’t making shit this year.
You fucking tools don’t take politics seriously. You roll your eyes at me, you tune me out, you don’t know jack fucking shit about your own country, how it runs, WHO is running it, what their agenda IS and you take something that is precious and spit on it. There are millions of people in this world who would LOVE the opportunity to vote. You have that and you don’t do it. Your inaction IS a vote. You have voted not to take control of your own life, you have voted to let someone else run it for you. Well guess what? This is how they choose to run it. And now you don’t have any fucking money.
That is no one’s fault but your own. Maybe next time there’s an election, you could actually try to care. Even if you don’t care about anyone else in the world but yourself, do it for yourself. If you make that effort and learn and research and pay attention and vote and your guy doesn’t win? THAT IS WHEN YOU GET TO BITCH! But now? Today? No. You have no money because you fucked yourself over. And thanks for fucking me over as well. Assholes.”
I’m a big hit at work.
None of this sinks in. They might think about it for 5 minutes but then they go off, smoke another joint, drink another beer and scream, “PISS!” at the top of their lungs while bitching about who did what around these parts today.
I spent a little money this year...got a new laptop, gun, Kindle. Moved to a new abode. But for the most part, I’ve been saving what I can. Some of my co-workers like to talk about how I “never go anywhere or do anything” but I don’t care what they think or say. They don’t have any money because they spent it all on beer, drugs and partying. I have money saved up because I saw this coming and laid pretty low.
But hey, as long as we all understand that I’M the idiot here.
Saturday, February 06, 2010
Do You Need A Map?
Remember GrumpyFuck from yesterday? Well, he got himself in good trouble today, as well.
See, today, we had a very, very rich person come, by helicopter, with his “handlers” as well, to take a private tour. As in, so rich, he is one of the top 10 richest people in this country, rich. That’s not any sort of exaggeration or play on words, he actually IS one of the top 10 richest people in this country. Yes, that rich.
So GrumpyFuck took him and some lady on a private tour. When they got back, Mr. Rich did not tip GrumpyFuck. GrumpyFuck threw a fit. A big, fat, whiny fit. He stomped around, muttered shit under his breath, looked, again, like a fool.
What GrumpyFuck doesn’t understand is that people THAT FUCKING RICH typically don’t handle money. That’s what the “handlers” are for. People that damn rich just spend their money by doing things like taking jet engine helicopter rides over the Everglades and then landing on the “heli-pad” at an airboat place and taking an expensive private tour. They then do other things while there and eventually get back on to the jet engine helicopter and fly off, letting the “handlers” do what they do best. Handle things.
Boss ripped GrumpyFuck a new one today for that little stunt. He explained to him what I just said and told him, AGAIN, that he cannot be throwing tantrums in front of the customers. Especially BILLIONAIRE customers.
Because he threw such a hissy fit, he only got $40.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA! Way to fuck yourself over, dipshit! That easily should have been a hundred or two hundred dollar boat.
Anyway, I didn’t get to see the screaming...which is probably good because I would have been standing there, beaming and, perhaps laughing. Ok, I would definitely have been laughing. And I probably would have gotten myself in trouble for doing that. But, I did hear about it. And apparently the infamous vein in the boss’ forehead was in full throb so you KNOW GrumpyFuck really, really fucked up today.
Would you like to know how badly he fucked up?
He actually spoke to me after that.
Oh yeah. You know now, for sure, what very little power you have, GrumpyFuck. Karma is a glorious bitch and it’s coming back to bite you in the ASS!
(Like I said, I could tell you all kinds of things but I’m not sure how much you really want to hear. But I did have to share this one because everyone loves it when an asshole gets his.)
Today was a very good day.
Friday, February 05, 2010
Some Peoples Children
At work we have one grouchy, old, moody, bi-polar piece of shit co-worker. He can be fine one minute and someone says the wrong word and he’s in a bitchy little mood, grumpy, growling, being a little fuck. We’ve had our “differences”, to put it mildly. And by “differences” I mean, he hates women so, naturally, he dislikes me greatly. I guess it hurts his miniscule testicles that a female can drive an airboat and do well on tour, sometimes better, than he does.
I’ve been privy to all sorts of names, comments, (usually under his breath), snotty remarks and glares for some time. One day I told him that if he had something to say to me, to man up, grow a pair and say it to my face not under his breath as he’s passing by like a little bitch.
Naturally, he took that well.
So, needless to say, I really can’t stand the old, wrinkled bag.
Then we got a new girl and when we started getting along, he decided that really pissed him off. He started doing everything to her that he had done to me. All of a sudden, for no reason whatsoever, he decided I was ok. He joked around with me, spoke to me decently, wasn’t a complete prick towards me. But he was with the new girl and I don’t forget things easily, nor do I trust the piece of shit.
Today, he decided that I had done something to piss him off, (it didn’t affect him AT. ALL!), so he took it upon himself to come down to the boat I was loading and throw a fit and cuss in front of the people on my boat.
That was the last straw.
I hate to do this but I went and told the boss what had happened. The boss had a talk with him and told him it was unprofessional, makes us look bad and was unacceptable.
Well, guess what. I’m back on GrumpyFuck’s shit list again and he’s currently trying to recruit some of my fellow co-workers to his “side”. :::serious eye roll::: Are you getting it when I say I work with fucking idiots? This 50 something year old twit threw a tempter tantrum in front of the customers over something that did not even affect him NOR was it even a big deal. Like, stupid.
Gah, it’s so stupid I don’t even want to type it but to get you to fully understand what we are working with here, I guess I will.
Most of us are assigned boats. We drive the same boats every day. The rest of them, including GrumpyFuck, do not have an assigned boat because they came after us. Anyway, today, I was up next, got the count and started calling people to the dock to load on my boat.
Except...where did my boat go? It’s not where I left it.
I continue down the dock, looking for my boat. I cannot find it and I’ve got all of these people following me. Finally I see my boat next to the repair shed. WTF is my boat doing there? I call on the radio to ask about that. No one responds.
Fuck it, I’m taking the first boat I see because all of the other boats are claimed. It just so happens to be the boat that GrumpyFuck was going to drive that day. Well, there’s two more people going before he goes and this is the only fucking boat available, I’m taking it. It’s not HIS gottdamned boat anyway, it was purchased and is maintained by the boss. And the boss doesn’t give a flying shit what boat you take, just take the damn tourists on their fucking tour.
So, I start to load this boat. Now someone wants to respond to me that my boat is being fixed so I should take another boat and specify which one they think I should take. (This is not the boss, mind you.) I respond that it’s too late now, I have already started loading because here’s the thing: My boss? Does not care about this petty bullshit. All he cares about is that the people come in, pay, get on the boat, go on the tour, come back, buy more shit. That’s it. And frankly, that’s all I care about either. I don’t give a fuck what some wind bag thinks of me or some pot head or alcoholic piece of crap. What I care about is what the boss thinks and said boss keeping me employed.
But I also do not like drama. Unnecessary bullshit, petty drama.
So here comes GrumpyFuck, stomping down the dock towards the boat. I ask him, because I know what’s coming, if he would like to listen to what is going on or would he rather just be mad. He growls, “Like I’ve got nothing fucking better to do all day than clean fucking boats”. See, in the morning, we come in, we clean the boats we will be using that day. Pick up the trash, wipe the seats down, that sort of thing.
Because I took “his” boat, that would mean he would have to take another boat, (claiming he had to clean it which he fucking did not because it had already been cleaned by the person who was going to drive it that day but ended up instead working on my boat).
Why didn’t I just take that other boat instead? Because I had already marched these people down one dock and down a second while looking for my own fucking boat that not one damn person had bothered to tell me they were working on. And instead of walking them all the way back through a crowd of other people getting on and off boats, I just took the first available boat that I knew was not being used right then.
NOT a big fucking deal.
GrumpyFuck then repeats himself but this time much louder ensuring that those on my boat can hear him. He’s trying to make a statement and he’s trying to make me look bad in front of the people on my boat. And, ultimately, he’s trying to screw me on tips.
“Like I have NOTHING FUCKING BETTER TO DO THAN CLEAN FUCKING BOATS!” he bellows.
In the end, he never even took a boat.
Let’s summarize here:
My boat was missing.
I took what boat I could.
GrumpyFuck throws a fit and curses in front of my customers, twice.
He had no need to clean any other boat because all of the boats were already clean.
He never even took a fucking boat and, therefore, did not miss out on his own, precious, unassigned boat for any tour at all.
In other words, he was in no way inconvenienced at all. It did not affect him at all. He threw a fucking hissy fit for no damn reason and ended up making himself look like a fool. And the boss, whose ass GrumpyFuck kisses non stop, told him that this time, GrumpyFuck was wrong. The boss also told me, “He’s an obstinate old man, he has issues...” when the boss was telling me that the situation had been taken care of.
But I’m the one on the shit list. Course, that shit list is one or two people, (because the rest of us are tired of his shit), but they are such fucking assholes that it makes work sometimes annoying. Because he will be a colossal prick at work, on tour and will do everything he can to try to make me look like shit in front of the customers. Because he’s a fucking four year old.
I have a headache so I’m going to take a nap now. But do you see what I mean when I say I work with fucking idiots?
Monday, June 01, 2009
Finally
After two years working here and asking and asking and asking and always getting some lame ass bullshit excuse, I finally got some time off.
The very first thing people ask is, “Where are you going?”
Why the hell do I need to go anywhere? All I want to do is sleep and be left the fuck alone. I just want a break from the stupid questions I receive all day long, the pissy little attitudes, the back stabbing, gossiping, rumors and the inane conversations my drugged out co-workers have all day long.
In other words, I want to remember what life is like in the real world.
I MAY go visit St. Augustine but I may not. I may just fucking chill out for the 9 days I have off and do absolutely nothing. I live in a vacation spot. I’m about sick to death of tourists. I don’t need any more socialization at this point.
What I need is some peace and quiet and sleep. What I need is to just fuck around and goof off all day long. Stay up way too late at night on the computer, sleep in way too late during the day. Stay out of the boiling hot sun.
This is a mental vacation. I’m mentally exhausted and the very last thing I want to do is go out in to the world, (namely traffic), and deal with ignorant fuckwads.
On my last day of work before the vacation, I went to the store and stocked up on everything I might need so that I don’t have to leave the confines of my house. I have enough to entertain me here. I have the computer/internet, satellite t.v. in which I can use to watch horrible reality shows, I will actually have energy to use my Wii and WiiFit now because I won’t be drained from the boiling hot sun and stupid tourist questions, (not sure if I mentioned that yet) and my retarded, douche bag co-workers, (did I mention them yet? They are especially tiring.) I’ll have the energy to actually do a good cleaning instead of a quick clean. I’ll have energy to spend time with the cats. I will have time to pick up a book and read it instead of getting one paragraph in before I fall asleep only to wake up some hours later with the book plastered to my cheek.
In other words, this vacation, the first vacation I’ve had in two and a half years, I intend on doing absolutely nothing interesting to anyone else at all. I am not going to jet off somewhere just so I have a good story to share with the co-workers who will undoubtedly ask, “Where did you go? What did you do?”
God, assholes, we fucking hate each other. Why are you so interested in what I do with my personal time that has no effect on you whatsoever? It does not concern you, so why do you care? For you to judge how well you think I spent my vacation? Yeah, look, I got done with those, “What I Did On My Vacation” reports in grade school, ok?
None of your fucking business what the hell I do. Go smoke another joint and guzzle another beer. Hey, pop a pill or two while you’re at it and attack the shit out of each other while I’m gone. Actually, I’m probably not going to be gone long enough for that to happen. They’ll spend the next 9 days trash talking me while I’m not around. I can almost guarantee that shit. If I were gone longer, they would eventually tire of that and start attacking each other since I’m not there to be their little punching bag but I don’t think 9 days is long enough.
Maybe it is. Hopefully it is. I would love nothing more than to return and hear that the monkeys turned on each other in my absence.
Now, this sounds like a self important post; as if I’m so fucking important that they will all talk about me. It’s not that. Not at all. I do nothing to these pricks. I mind my own business, do my job and go home. I don’t like getting involved in the petty ass arguments that go on there and let me tell you, we are talking some major pettiness. It’s amazing what makes grown men cry like little girls. The magnitude of bullshit around here is appalling.
Yes, I know, you have pieces of shit no matter where you work. There’s always at least one. I get that. This isn’t my first job nor do I have no other life experience. (Something my co-workers seem to forget. They all seem to believe life began at this place.) But, as bitchy as the bitchiest co-worker I’ve ever had has been, they pale in comparison to the infantile crappings my co-workers drop every day. The second in command told me, when I pointed this out, that I was welcome to work somewhere else. I know that, bitch. (I also know that she is one of the biggest culprits when it comes to gossip and rumors and she didn’t like being called out like that. Immature whore.) I know damn good and well that I don’t have to stay here. Der. However, I also know that I’m not going to let some whiny, snot nosed, crybaby co-worker run me out of a situation where the money is pretty decent. I have a goal and the hell if some fag ass abuser is going to push me away from that.
I know they’ve tried and continue to try. But I’m stronger than they are. I’ve been called WAY worse by better. I’ve had enough experience dealing with little shit nuggets like this. It’s just that this time there’s more of them. It’s annoying as all hell but little pieces of creamed shit will not steer me away from my goals. So suck it, bitches.
This 9 day staycation is going to rejuvenate me so that I can put up with the horseshit for a little while longer as I continue to save and accumulate. Eventually I WILL leave but not until I’m either fired or I’M ready.
That irritates them greatly. Which makes it all the more fun for me. Do you know how hilarious it is to know that your mere existence boils someone’s blood? Yep. I say that to myself everyday:
“The very fact that I live and breathe pisses you off. I need to do nothing more. I’ve already won.”
The people I work with, most don’t even have a high school diploma, (no you do not need to be smart to drive an airboat), do drugs or drink or both, a LOT, are stupid as shit and have no future. Most of them get pissed that I have an education. I don’t throw it in their face but I’m not going to dumb myself down to talk about farts and fucking just to make them feel better about themselves. Most of them are highly irritated that I’m a girl and doing the same job they are. They really, really don’t like the fact that a girl is doing the “man’s job” (according to them), and does it better than many of them. I’m not the best. Certainly not. But I do well. And it annoys the ever loving shit out of them. In fact, some of them accuse me of flashing all the tourists on my boat to make tips. Yah, that’s exactly what I do. It couldn’t possibly be due to the fact that I FUCKING know how to relate to people and make them laugh. It couldn’t be due to the fact that I’ve had years of experience in customer service that has taught me how to talk to people and not AT them. It couldn’t be due to the fact that I’m not a fucking asshole and don’t treat people like shit. It couldn’t be due to the fact that a little bit of acting experience can go a long way. (You just have to act like you enjoy them for 45 minutes and make them believe it.) No, it can’t have anything at all to do with any of that education and experience. It’s simply because I flash everyone on each tour. That’s how I make my money. See, that’s the only possible way any girl can make any money. I mean, we’re girls. We have no skills to speak of. We are all dumb. We have nothing intelligent to say. In fact, why don’t we just shut up and get in the kitchen to make them a sandwich and get them a beer.
There’s just no way I can be making any money off of any of my abilities. None at all. Because girls can’t do anything except cook, clean and fuck. Don’t be getting too big for your britches with your hoity toity education. And stop using big words to embarrass me. (Seriously, I don’t use big words. I just talk like a normal human being. I’m not a pretentious fuck. Let me give you an example of what they think is a big word: The alligator is much more docile than the crocodile. Docile. HOLY SHIT! I can’t believe she talks like that in front of us! Fucking know it all bitch! What the fuck does docile mean? I bet she looked it up to embarrass us. What the fuck does it mean, anyway? Bitch.) I think I’ve used that example before...I’m not sure if I actually wrote that out, thought of writing it out or never submitted the post....but if I repeat myself, well, what can you expect? I’m just a dumb girl. I should have just stopped writing 1000 words ago and flashed everyone instead. I mean, that’s all I’m good for.
Anyhoo, yes, I do intend on leaving one day. I will not work here forever. But now is not the time, bullshit wading or not. First of all, we have an ignorant fool in office who is destroying jobs left and right so now is not the time to be looking for a new job. Great time to buy a home, though. And, frankly, I want to milk this shit for all its worth while I have the strength to do it. At the very least, I want to do this another year. IF I can stomach it, I’ll do it a little longer than that. Honestly I’m not sure how much I can take after that much time but I want to make it at least that long. Then I’ll have a sizable chunk of savings and most of my stuff will be paid off. At that point, I should only owe on one thing but that one thing is an investment for me, really. Once my car is paid off and certain contracts are up and I’ve got a good amount in my savings, then I’ll start to look around at moving the hell away from here. Because this IS the place to get that done.
Then, when I know I can leave any old damn time I please, that’s the point I start telling these fuckwads a thing or two. Right now I pretty much keep my mouth shut because, again, I have a goal. Once I have reached that goal, there will be nothing to hold me back.
And frankly, my next job? I’d prefer to work from home, thankyouverymuch. Enough with the low self esteemed co-workers. I have some of the writing I can be doing, that gets some money to me but I need a good, full time job working from home. I think I’d be much happier, much more relaxed and more at peace. So, let me know if you know of any good, legit work at home jobs. LEGIT, people. Key word.
And now, I’m off to enjoy the rest of my vacation. I think I’ll begin by sleeping some more.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Why Do People Bother?
Recent conversation with neighbors:
ToolSheds: I support what you are doing and I think it’s great. If there’s anything we can do to help you, you let us know. You are wonderful and we like you. You need anything, anything at all, we will help you. Just let us know.
Me: Can you bring (subject) up to (a certain place about 1/2 hour drive time away) since I can’t get the time off to do it myself?
ToolSheds: Oh! No, we can’t do that! That’s too fucking far!
These people do nothing all day long. Well, they do sit on their porch and drink and smoke cigarettes but other than that, nothing at all. All day long. Every day. Day in and day out. Their schedules are completely open.
I’ve noticed over the years that people do this shit a lot. Look, kids, don’t fucking offer shit if you have no intention of actually following through. I hate that phony crap. “Let me know if you need anything.” “Let me know how I can be of help to you.” “Whatever you need, just come to me, I’ll help.” “It doesn’t matter what time of day, if you need anything, I’m here.” “I have your back if you ever need anything.”
Oh shut the fuck up. Bunch of gottdamned liars.
Don’t give me your, “let’s do lunch” line to make yourselves feel better. Sometimes in this life we need help with something and it would be nice to know that if you actually do need help with something, those assholes who stated that you could rely on them to help you out with ANYTHING would actually fucking help you out.
I don’t ask for a lot of help. I’d much rather do as much as I can by myself because I sure as fuck don’t need some twat telling me, later, all the things he/she has done for me as if they are keeping some sort of list and now I owe them. But, when I DO ask for help, it’s usually something that I cannot do because of time or have no knowledge how to do it. And I shouldn’t have to fucking pay for help every damn time I get it. What happened to people being friendly and neighborly? Have we never heard the word, “favor”? Shall I start charging every time I help someone? How stupid is that?
But what irritates me the most are the phony shitheads who prance around acting as if they are great people boasting that they are there for you with anything no matter what. But, when that time comes that you actually need some help, little help that it may be, (seriously, 1/2 hour driving is too much for you? Seriously?), they balk. It’s like they never thought you would actually take them up on their phony offer.
Do not tell someone that you are there for them, no matter what, unless you fucking mean it.
So, to answer one of the most frequently asked questions I get in real life, “Why don’t you ever ask for help?”
Now you know. 
