Tuesday, June 30, 2009
They had an interesting dinner menu; and I managed to snag a pic of it.
I ordered the New York Steak Blue. I'm not sure why they'd have a misspelling on the menu, I mean, it was pretty fancy. You don't really think a mistake like that would be something they'd let fly.
You can probably guess that we stayed away from the Liver and Onions. I mean, if the restaurant is suggesting it's less than savory, than yo, it must be LESS THAN SAVORY.
AND ERRYBODY KNO THAT UR BOI AIN'T DOWN WIF LESS THAN SAVORY
Monday, June 29, 2009
I just read an article about what airlines are doing to accommodate their growing number of fat customers. And holy shit, there are some real gems in there:
- "Everyone suffers. The obese people suffer and the people who are skinny and get spilled over on suffer as well."
- "Still, some larger passengers who need more than one seat believe being charged extra is discriminatory and the airlines are not accommodating the growing American waistline."
- "The airlines need to be making bigger seats," said Peggy Howell, a spokeswoman for the National Association to Advance Fat Acceptance, a group based in San Francisco, California. "It's not safe to be cramming us into two seats."
WAIT WHAT? THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION TO ADVANCE FAT ACCEPTANCE?
WHAT THE FUCK, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
Let me explain something to you - IT'S NOT OK TO BE A FAT TUB OF SHIT. IT'S NOT ACCEPTABLE TO BE REALLY FAT.
Yeah, if you're sick, or injured, fine, you have an excuse. Nine times out of ten though, that's not the case.
Most people are fat because they are fat, lazy, worthless pieces of shit - plain and simple. You know, the more I think about it, I might just dedicate this blog to ending obesity/hating fat people.
If I were an airline spokesperson, and was asked to comment, I would offer up one sentence:
"holy fuck you're fat and i'm so pissed off about it that i can't even use proper grammer and spelling gtfo fatty"
I'm going to make you all a promise right now. I promise that, for the rest of my life, every chance I get, I will discriminate against fat people.
Friday, June 26, 2009
However, this article I read just confirms my initial belief. You really don't have to click the article; I just wanted to link something. Ever since I learned how to do that, I've been trying to incorporate it more into my blog.
Anyway, about the article, basically these pussies are crying about not being able to get a deal on the newest technology from apple. They bought an iphone, apple came out with a newer one, and many tears were shed. I've got 2 words for you: YOU SUCK.
And another couple words: I HOPE YOU GET KILLED THIS WEEKEND.
Everybody else: I HOPE YOU HAVE THE BEST WEEKEND EVER*.
*The best weekend ever has your face in very close proximity to (if not constantly touching) these, every second of every day, until Sunday at 11:59 pm EST.
NOM NOM NOM NOM
Thursday, June 25, 2009
My first thought was, "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?"
My next thought was, "that picture makes it look pretty tasty".
3rd thought, "I'm gonna make a big fuckin' mess, and heckyeahwoman is gonna be PISSSSED".
As a matter of fact, I did wind up making a big fuckin' mess, but heckyeahwoman wasn't really pissed at all. Rather, she was almost kind of impressed with my ambitious undertaking.
Above you can see some of the chopped up tomatoes. Sadly, I didn't think to take pictures until I had already chopped everything up. We have this sweet Chop Wizard thing, and it's awesome. Just look at it.
You can see I'm boiling something; most likely it was the potatoes and other veggies. They took a while to boil, and actually boiled over, making a mess. This was one of the times I thought heckyeahwoman was gonna be ticked, but she was cool.
Here you can see both the lentils (left) and random veggies (right) boiling or whatever. The big ass pot on the right was about to be inundated with boiled lentils. That was a lot of CHILEAN SPICED DAHL FUCK YEAH. It wound up being really tasty.
I made a special trip to the grocery store for all this crap, and of course, I forgot the flatbread, lol.
There you can see part of the aftermath. Not aftermath so much as a bunch of clean dishes yo. I like to clean the dishes as I go because, well, I like to do the dishes.
Oh you think it's weird that a man likes to clean dishes?
WELL LET'S SEE WHAT YOU'RE SAYING WHEN MY CROWBAR IS STICKING IN YOUR FUCKING HEAD WHILE I'M BURNING YOU TO DEATH WITH A SCALDING HOT CHILEAN SPICED DAHL, MOTHERFUCKER (sorry mom & dad)
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
This is an awesome song, from the last studio album, "Blackhawks Over Los Angeles"; the song is called "Calling". The intro PUMPS ME UP so furiously, that I've been known to blast this song at the gym when I need that little extra kick in the ass to nail that 3,000th pull up.
One of the last times I saw them, they opened with this song, and the entire club just went absolutely batshit crazy. I've seen a lot harder, more violent bands playing, and nobody went nearly as apeshit as the crowd did when Strung out opened up with this one.
Obviously, this song is gonna get you PUMPED UP, and you don't even need to watch more than 30 seconds. From the beginning chords, you know what's gonna happen: motherfuckers are gonna lose their shit. I've seen Strung Out live a bunch of times, and only once did they not play this song. Do you know why?
Cause this song is fucking awesome.
And probably my favorite Strung Out song, "Matchbook". Unfortunately, I couldn't find a decent live version, so this lame video is all I got. There was some other homemade video on youtube, but honestly, it was retarded.
I can't remember the last time I was this pumped up.
Lol right, of course I do! It was a couple days ago after I polished off this tasty ass burrito, and a delicious dark beer at this new local Mexican joint.
So here's the deal, we're gonna listen to some Strung Out to set the mood, and then we're gonna enjoy and conquer HUMP DAY, much in the same way we'd treat a big, fat, delicious burrito that's callin' your name.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Haha apparently I didn't either! It's already almost July, and I totally forgot to post the update lol.
That's not so bad, is it?
I grew a much darker, thicker mustache than last year. I think it's because I started like a week early!
Notice the poster in the background - those guys look pissed, and now I do too.
This was the last of like 40 pictures heckyeahwoman took for me. She has wobbly hands, so it took a while for us to get a decent non-blurry shot. You can see the disgust just seething on my face.
Goddamn, I've lost weight. Just at Christmas time, I was right around 205...a firm, jacked 205. Now, at the end of May, I'm down to like 187ish. Notice though, my forearms ain't nuthin' to mess with. That really doesn't have that much to do with mustaches and stuff, but you can kind of tell that I look skinnier. Don't worry Mom & Dad, I'm not dying.
I can't wait till next year so I can grow a 'stache again. I'm thinking about doing like a MUSTACHE MARCH - MAY. That would be hell, but sometimes that's what you gotta do. Maybe next time I'll plan ahead and if anybody else thinks they can grow a better 'stache, we can have a contest, with a prize.
HUMP DAY PUMP UP TOMORROW - GET READY
Monday, June 22, 2009
Some of the appropriate times to ask for a discount are when you're buying in bulk, when the product is on it's way out, when you pay in cash, and then I got to this one:
"when you're dropping a small fortune"
It get's worse, the article went on to elaborate exactly what a small fortune is (warning, wtf content below):
At high-end department stores, if you spend more than $15,000 or $20,000 in a single visit, you can usually get 20% off the entire purchase, Delilah said. "Stores that sell Christian Louboutin shoes (who? fuck you), you can say, 'These are very expensive. Is there any way you could give me something off?'" Delilah said. "In this economy, everybody's looking to crack a deal. If you're 'spending bank,' there's going to be more flexibility." (from msn.com)
I don't know, I guess there's not really anything funny to be said about this, cause yeah, if you're spending $15 - 20k at one place, yeah, maybe you should get a discount. But then again, if you're spending $15 - 20k at one place, then you're probably buying like a dinosaur that shoots lasers out of its ass, or something. And at that point do you really need a discount?
Or maybe you're finally paying off your credit cards, you irresponsible fuck.
Hey, I hope everybody/all 4 of you had a great weekend!
Friday, June 19, 2009
Since I couldn't bring myself to post an entire video, I'll just post this:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, I HOPE YOU HAVE AN AWESOME DAY, AND DON'T DIE.
**see below for my awesome wrap up of last weekend.
And then we find them.
We walk up the stairs to our section, Heckyeahwoman spots them, then immediately suggests we get another round of beers before we sit. Ok, so we head back down to the beer selling place. We both had at least half a beer left, and I thought it was kind of weird, and I'm all, "WTF, shawtie?" Then she drops the bomb: "Sir Awesome Guy Sir, there is a really obese man sitting in the seat next to yours, sir".
Thinking about how she knows which seat is specifically mine, lol, "I'm sure he's not that fat, I don't mind, I'll sit by him".
"Like, really fat. Real fat", she replies.
"Nah it's cool babygurl, I got dis."
After filling our other hand with a beer (and I scarf down a hotdog), we head back. Now keep in mind, I hadn't noticed this absolute fat tub of shit the first time, and well, this time - I did.
HOLY SHIT THAT GUY IS FAT. This worthless piece of shit is spilling into my seat, and his legs are spread so wide from his male fupa, that there's no room for me. I'm fucking pissed. They should have charged this fat fuck 2 tickets. Whatever.
We squeeze past, and take our seats. It's a tight fit. This filthy goddamn waste is probably 60 years old, and just so disgusting, but he's with some 20 year old hot blonde chick. Probably his grand daughter or something.
Finally we finish our beers, and decide to find different seats - cause I'm squishing into Heckyeahwoman, lol. Of course, the asshole usher notices we're sitting in different seats now, and asks us for our tickets. Seriously dickface? It's the 5th inning, if these suckers were gonna come, they would have already. So he kneels down to look at my ticket, and I whisper loud enough, "that guy next to my seat is enormou"- and before I can even finish he looks at me, and tells us we're ok. Lol.
The Ray's won, 4-3.
Saturday we went to the beach, and it was awesome. Beautiful weather, beautiful water, it was great. HOLY SHIT I LOVE LIVING IN FLORIDA! So we're just hanging out, chit-chatting, havin' a brewski; and I was checking out some chicks a couple umbrellas over, when all of a sudden Heckyeahwoman points out something kind of messed up.
This fricken weirdo is wandering up the beach wearing a short trenchcoat-lookin' thing, carrying a cheese platter. WTF? Of course I forgot my camera!
I was watching him for a second, and then some honeys in tiny bikinis walked by, then I lost him. Heckyeahwoman was trying to point out where he went, but I was fixated on the shorties.
Some other awesome stuff happened, but that's another blog for another day, have as awesome a weekend this weekend, as I did last weekend.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
All I could do was just sit there, boiling over with UNCONTROLLABLE VIOLENCE for the duration of the meeting. And then I had to sit through another hour and a half of work. It was mildly unpleasant, to say the least.
I just wanted to go home and right this wrong the only way I knew how: by finding a better deal (and killing somebody).
But I couldn't! Unfortunately the minute I got home, I had to change into my workout clothes and head over to a pilates class. Lol, more on that later this week. Or next week. Yeah, probably next week.
Either way, holy shit I was pissed. So finally Thursday rolls around, and I find time shop around online for new car insurance. I go through a couple online quotes, and finally I check out Progressive:
"You give me deal, trick. (god you're hot and I love you)".
"Okay you can get a deal!"
And get a deal I sure did.
It was easy!
I managed to cut my price in half, compared to what the assholes at INSURANCE WORLD OF GAINESVILLE were offering. They were such pricks. Then I called to ask about canceling, and then, just for fun, I asked for a better quote. The box manged to quote me $20 less; meanwhile, Progressive is hollerin' at me to the tune of $60 less. Fark yeah they were.
So you know what I did? I told Insurance World to cancel me asap motherfuckers, and I went ahead and signed up online with Progressive.
It's been awesome since.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
There's rumblings that they may, or may not, play this annual punk fest here in Gainesville this year. I'd shit myself if they played. I would literally be rocking out, shitting myself if Screeching Weasel played in Gainesville. Think about that for a minute: think about all the heads I would crack just to get up front right by the stage, all the fuckin wanks I would mash, just to get up there...and then what do I do? I shit myself. Real cool, man. Real fuckin' cool.
I'm Gonna Strangle You
AND HOLY SHIT I TOTALLY WASN'T GONNA POST ANY MORE SONGS, BUT THEN I CAME ACROSS THIS GEM!
EXTRA BONUS BONER PUMP - THE SONG IS AWESOME, AND THE VID IS PRETTY RETARDED.
Go ahead, watch the videos, enjoy some fantastic 90's pop-punk done 100% absolutely perfectly right, and BEAT THE LIVING FUCKING PISS OUT OF NOT ONLY TODAY, BUT THE REST OF THE WEEK.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
What this means, is that I'm always learning these big scientific words, and all these neat scientific principles. Anyway, I feel it's my duty to share some of these scientific nuggets with you.
So when heckyeahwoman wasn't looking, I stole some of her science. I hope she doesn't mind. Here, check it out:
Notice on this graph here, she incorporated both science AND physics. Towards the top of the graph, you'll see the word "thermodynamic". This is a scientific word that comes from the Greek "thermos", which means "that which keeps liquids, like coffee, hot". And the second part of the word, "dynamic", is Latin. That word means "great complementary word to 'thermos'".
Any time the word "relationship" is used in a scientific context, it means "cause and effect", or if you want to sound more scientific, "causal". It's a very important word, and it's very important to use it when you have 2 or more things, like the 2 lines on this graph.
Next, we have the word "critical". I'm sure most of you have used this word, in some of it's other forms, especially prevalent when describing music: crucial, cr00sh, br00sh, etc. The word "mass" refers to the East coast state, Massachusetts. When put together, "critical mass" basically just means, "a very important something from Boston*".
Well, what does this all mean? I think it's pretty obvious: as two variables increase both scientifically and in physics, in a thermodynamic relationship, they're going to reach critical mass at the intersection of 6351 scientific units and 5732 physics units. Pretty simple stuff, eh.
*Obviously this does not include Boston sports fans, as there's nothing important about them. lol sorry
Monday, June 15, 2009
"Conservative, Christian, Pro-life, Pro-gun, Pro-Death Penalty, Heterosexual"
For Hardcore Conservative Christians.
Well, let's see what we got here:
Conservative - Actually that's not conservative, that's right wing neocon nut-jobs parading around as conservatives. And that ain't cool.
Christian - I'm not here to judge you because of your faith; I'm here to judge you because you're an idiot.
Pro-life - How about if you don't want to have an abortion, don't have one. I'm a dude (a fucking good-looking, jacked and tan one), and my whole thing is that, well, you're mother should have swallowed you.
Pro-gun - Fuck yeah, I can get behind this. I love guns. Hey let's go shooting.
Pro-death penalty - Death by Steven Seagal, in "Under Siege", is the ultimate death penalty. Let's make it happen.
Heterosexual - Ain't nothin wrong with being heterosexual, but for some reason I don't think that's what this group had in mind lol. Of all the things to cry about in this world (Juliette died on Lost!) and people are crying about gay marriage. YOU FUCKING RETARDS, JULIETTE WAS HOT AS HELL.
Personally, I like the shot at 0:35.
Honestly though, I don't even know where to start. So I'll just sum it up with a single, hearty, "lol".
In brighter news, if any of the members of this facebook group are reading, you may not want to read tomorrow...we're having a science post.
Friday, June 12, 2009
She axed me one, "is there ever a time in the world where there is absolutely nobody crapping? Like, nobody anywhere, is pooping?"
This coming from a woman who is going to be Dr. Heckyeahwoman in a year. Yeah no kidding right, I was so impressed.
Think about it though, you know those statistics, like every however many minutes, a murder happens; or every 5 minutes or whatever, a car accident happens. I wonder what the frequency of dumping is.
How many steamers per minute are we talkin' here? How many dukes per hour?
How many here in Gainesville?
How many here in Florida?
How about in the United States?
HOW MANY SHITS ARE TAKEN DAILY IN ALL OF THE WORLD (welcome ta earf)?
Well, let's break it down, Gainesville has a population of roughly 111,000 people. Florida has just over 18 million people. The US contains over 304 million, while the the ENTIRE WORLD has a population of 763 zillion gajillion billion people. Just kidding, its actually closer to 6.7 billion. And if you ask me, that's about 6.7 billion people too many - but that's another story for another time, friendo.
Furthermore, aside from the sabbath, there are only 86,400 seconds in any given day. That's not a lot of time, to allow for a break in the worldwide flow of people-poopin'. If 1 person = 1 log (and that's being conservative), we're lookin' at like over 77,000 logs per second, worldwide.
The laws of probability certainly say there was, is, or will be a point when there is nobody eliminating - even if for the fastest split second.
Think about that for a minute the next time you're makin' your own personal stinky brown expulsion.
For a little clarification, let's see what Bart Simpson has to say:
Thursday, June 11, 2009
If not, that's totally cool. But I play every year, and it's usually a blast. It's like gambling-lite, cause I generally don't like gambling too much. So after my first year of doing it, heckyeahwoman saw that I was having a good time with it, and she wanted to have a good time with it too. Lol, she doesn't even care about football. I think she just saw us partying during the draft, drinking all day on Sunday while watching football, and yelling at a computer. She had to do it too.
Next year rolls along, and now we're both playin' fantasy football. In it to win it.
Once you log in, you have your homepage where you have your team, with all the different players you've drafted, and you can set your lineups for each week. There's a little place towards the top of the page that's reserved for trash talking...like you know, talkin' some smack about your match-up that week. It's great, everyone can see it.
I usually use it for calling everyone gay, or something.
But one week it was totally different. Yeah, one week my smack-talk box area thing read, "heckyeahwoman, will you marry me?"
So I did that on like a Thursday night or something, and Friday night at the bar, one of our friends (who's boyfriend was in our fantasy football league) asked us if we were really engaged.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
So check out in the video below, the dude with the violin walking out of the shed at :09 gets me every time. And then right away, when it goes to the shot of the group playing, the dude on the left, banging on the bongo with some sort of mallet, oh god I lose it.
Great song, get pumped UP YOU FUCKING PUSSIES. THESE GUYS WRITE SONGS ABOUT DRINKING, FIGHTING, EATING MEAT, AND PILLAGING, AND ALL YOU'RE DOING IS SITTING IN YOUR OFFICE PLAYING WITH YOUR STAPLER.
Hey dad, you reading? Cause this video right below is for you.
Goddamnit, I love Wednesdays. I almost posted this on Monday, cause I was typing it up Sunday evening, and I just started getting so pumped up that I think I'm gonna explode. I hope I make it till HUMP DAY.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Oh great, the email is from HR. Did they finally decide to fire me, and announce it via company-wide email on a Friday afternoon? I don't know, but I wouldn't doubt it.
Anyway, I bust open my inbox, and realize I have like 8 other unread messages. Heh, guess I was so zoned out that I totally missed those emails from over the past 2 hours lol.
Yo, but imagine my delight when I peep that HR email, and realize it has nothing to do with me gettin' shitcanned. Whew, that was a close one, not really. So the subject of the email was an ominous, yet succinct, "dress code".
I guess we need a refresher on our dress code. I can't imagine how hard this is for some people to follow. Especially men. How hard is it for a man to wear a collared shirt, dress pants, and dress shoes to work...4 days a week? WHAT THE FUCK. I mean I know it ain't easy to walk into work with a straight face, when you know I'm gonna be all up in there Brad Pittin' it up like woah.
Straight Pittin' out motherfucker.
Yeah, that's right, your boy be wearin' camel-hair socks, the finest silken dress shirts, and the softest puppy-fur dress slacks. Or something like that. What do you expect from the guy who started "Tie Tuesday"? What about from the guy who, in the fall, will be starting "Sweater Vest Vednesday"? Expect only the best, my friends.
Anyway, I wanted to help out, so I whipped up this picture to demonstrate exactly how a man could dress appropriately. Without thinking twice, I immediately forwarded this picture out to everybody in the company.
Then I realized that our corporate headquarters, or parent company, actually has over 60 different companies. I'd hate for them to miss out on my simple dress code diagram.
So I forwarded it to everybody. EVERYBODY.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Friday, I got off work at like 5 pm, not a second later. I was out the door, and in my car ready to get my swerve on, heck yeah. Man. The plan was to swing home, grab heckyeahwoman, run an errand, and hit happy hour. Oh boy, we hit happy hour...HARD. Homeboy was servin' the dranks, and we were drankin' the dranks. All the dranks.
But first we had to run an errand. Check this out, one of the local gyms was running a sweet deal that we couldn't pass up. So, uh, now, uh, I'm a member of 2 different gyms lol. This place we just joined offers a bunch of sweet yoga and pilates classes, so Ima be doing that like 2 nights a week or something. So we joined that shit, hit happy hour, grabbed some food to eat at home, and then we just watched a movie. Unfortunately we both fell asleep before it ended lol.
Woke up FUCKIN' EARLY on Saturday morning at like 10:45 to go to the bank. It's like, the bank has such shitty hours that I have to actually PLAN my trips there. Whatever, just as long as I'm there by noon, I'm good. No biggie, I had to wire some money. Lol, I never thought I'd see the day when I wire money. You know who wires money? Fuckin' big shot executives wire money. And I wired money.
After the bank, I came home, ate, and worked out furiously. That was brutal. Got back from the gym, took a nice cold shower, and waited for heckyeahwoman to get home so we could figure out what's up for dinner. Turns out, we went to this sushi restaurant, and neither of us ordered sushi. I got this bulgoki beef thing. It was pretty tasty, but when I got home, I had the most EXPLOSIVE DIARRHEA I've ever had. EVER. I think the same thing happened last time we went there.
And now the fun starts. Since we didn't finish the movie last night, we watched the end, and just as I suspected, it was LAME. We both love playing this game called Catchphrase. It's a blast, so we sat down, and played a couple games of that. It's supposed to be with like a group of people, but I hate everybody, so it was just the 2 of us. Anyway, the game is like Charades mixed with Hot Potato. A word comes on the screen, and you have to describe it, and your partner has to guess it. The timer is beeping, until it finally goes off - whoever has it in their hands when it goes off, loses.
Anyway, heckyeahwoman goes first, and she gets a word. She's says a couple things I don't remember, and then she says, "you blow it". I immediately blurt out, "LOAD!".
The word was "trumpet".
My turn. I get a word, and say a few things trying to describe it; this thing is ticking pretty hard, you can tell it's about to go off. I gotta think quick. Feeling the pressure, I blurt out, "your uncle probably has one!".
She gives me a confused look that tells me she has no idea; Also, I don't know why I said that.
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP
It goes off. I lose.
The word was "ulcer". I have no idea why I thought of her uncle.
We continue to play for another hour or so, and I say the word, that I'm actually trying to describe, about 3 times; and we have a hearty rofl over it, each time.
Jeez, this thing's getting long, and I haven't even totally finished up Saturday night, and we got all of the sabbath left. Oh well, that's the breaks.
Friday, June 5, 2009
With that out of the way, let's get on with it, eh. At work, we have 2 bathrooms, but y'all probably already know that by now. Both men's baffrooms have one stall, while the first has 2 urinals, and the other has 1 urinal. Entering either washroom is always a gamble - you never know if there's going to be someone in there just waiting to make an awkward bathroom encounter, or worse, if there's someone in there making the brown stuff happen. Of course nobody bothers to lock the door when making a number 2. Thanks, assholes.
Walking into the hallway bathroom with 2 urinals, I decide to chance it. And chance it I did. Right as I reach for the doorknob, the door swings open, and out strolls a member of management.
Not mid-level management, no. This guy has upper management written all over him. He also wears the smile of a man who just created something toxic. Something so putrid that he probably waited in the tiny bathroom, waiving his arms in the air, for 5 minutes while the stench dissipates.
Anywho, I'm comin' in, and he's goin' out. Without noticing just who it is, I'm about to offer up my standard, "what's crappenin'?".
At the last second, I notice his sheen of corporate brass, and it damn near blinds me; thus forcing me to morph my regular greeting into:
"what's cr-happ-how are you doing sir?"
While narrowly avoiding disaster, I couldn't help but wish that the bathroom interaction would have gone more like this (lol, nevermind the fact that this happens between a father and son in a house, and my story happens between a, well, not a father and son, in an office) :
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Me: Hi, Mr. Customer, As I talked about with you last week, you have outstanding invoices from February of this year. Last time we talked, you said you were going to send the check out. Do you have the check number?
Deadbeat Customer: I sent the check already.
Me: Great! Thank you! Do you have the check number?
DbC: I sent it out already.
Me: I know, thank you, do you have the check number?
DbC: Do you not trust me? (getting noticeably angry) I told you I sent the check out, I have been doing business with your company for how many years.
Me: I understand, and I appreciate that. Certainly you realize that merely "doing business" with someone for a given number of years doesn't release you from your (legal) obligation to pay for the services offered, in a timely manner.
DbC: I TOLD YOU I SENT THE CHECK.
Me: I know, but since the check won't be here by the time it needed to be, I was going to give my manager the check number, amount, and the date it was sent, with the hopes of keeping you out of collections.
DbC: I don't have the check number, this is getting very annoying.
Me: Paying your bills is annoying?
DbC: No, you always calling me about my past due balance is annoying.
Me: So the expectation that you pay your bills is annoying? I find it to be completely reasonable.
DbC: I want to cancel my service with you, this is ridiculous.
Me: Sir, our service provides you with over a 6 time return on your investment. Please don't let your anger fuel a kneejerk reaction that would ruin one the most profitable marketing programs you're using.
DbC: *hangs up*
Wow, what a dick.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
These brutal times we're livin' in require brutal music. And as we all know, brutal music is essential to everyday life. But just how essential is it? Real frikken essential.
With that in mind, lettuce enjoy some of the best brutality that music has to offer. Or some of the best music that brutality has to offer.
This new Napalm Death album is just so goddamn awesome. Think of it this way: aside from the farting, if my anus could talk when I'm releasing the brown stuff, it would sound like the singer in this band.
Pretty awesome, eh? Well I'm gonna take that all that awesome, and raise you one. This is easily one of my favorite Coalesce songs because well, because it's goddamn awesome.
The trifecta of PUMP ends with probably the most widely known Coalesce tune out there. It's called "You Can't Kill Us All"...if the Descendents wrote it, it might be called, "You Can't Kill Us, ALL". God, that was horrible. Whatever, just saying the name of the song could have been a HUMP DAY PUMP UP by itself.
Make this the best HUMP DAY EVER
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
I CAN'T FUCKING STAND IT WHEN YOU PUNCTUATE YOUR RETARDED FACEBOOK STATUS WITH A COUPLE PERIODS...
It's like you're trying to be interesting, to get people to care what you may or may not do (or say) next...and then not saying it...but instead leaving it up to our imagination. I logged into facebook the other day, and saw no less than 5 of these goddamn pseudo-cryptic facebook statuses. It was truly embarrassing...
I can't imagine ever thinking that any of my friends on facebook actually give a shit about what my status says. The only thing I use my status for, is to pimp the shit outta my blog. I mean, I guess it's kinda cute that you think your trivial feelings are important enough to be broadcast all over the interwebz...
The more I think about it, the joke is on me for not only reading your stupid facebook status, but getting pissed off enough to write a blog about it...
Also worth noting about this horrible phenomenon, is the horrible grammar that runs rampant (both in my blog, lol, and) all over these horrible status updates. Facebook should really have a spellchecker...
Please know that I'm not really singling anybody out in particular, cause we're all guilty of this. But, it's just like after reading countless status updates, I'm finally at the breaking point. And when I get to the breaking point, blogs get furiously written...
AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON TWITTER...
Monday, June 1, 2009
If you can't tell, I'm trying to make a right turn into my office, and the dude next to me (labeled in the picture as "left turn maker") is waiting for the oncoming traffic to pass, so that he (or she, but probably a he) can make a left turn onto whatever the fuck road that is there.
The psychopath in the blue car must have been in some damn hurry because he (again, maybe a she, but probably a he, we'll get to how I know, later) tailgated my ass all the way down that road. So naturally, when I was getting ready to turn into my office, I didn't use my blinker at all. Heh heh fuck you, blue car drivin' pshycopath.
So he's honkin' like a maniac as I take my time making the turn. Out of nowhere, this dipshit swerves to the left, and damn near rear-ends the pick up truck next to me. This sets him off, and he's honkin' and cursin' like it's the antidote. Looking over to give this asshole a nice wave, I notice him flicking me off, with the devil in his eyes. Dude needs a chill pill.
That put me in a pretty good mood, but still, it pissed me the fuck off.
Then I get into my office, and get situated - you know, fire the computer up, and head to the kitchen to get some tea. Not just any tea though, spiced chai tea. Shit's tasty, dawg. So there I am, drowning that tea bag in scalding hot water, and I look away for a second and all of a sudden, I spilled some HOT FUCKING WATER on my fingers. HOLY SHIT that was hot.
Damn. Yeah, that pissed me off too, but what is about to happen next, pisses me off more than any scalding hot water could.
Some dude walks in, we share "good mornings", my fingers are still throbbing from the hot water burns. He sees the little bit of hot water I spilled on the counter. The little bit of water that sits there because I haven't wiped up yet, cause I'm still filling my glass. Without hesitation, he wonders, "Durrr, who spilled that water? Jeez, why didn't they clean it up?" I wonder if this weirdo did not just see that I was using the hot water. What a dick.
I reply, "yeah that was mine, I spilled the SCALDING HOT WATER on my fingers, man that burns, haha. I'll clean it up after I fill this up".
He snaps, "no, I'll take care of it".
"Better you than me", as I head out of the kitchen.
*Keep in mind, my windows are much more tinted than the picture shows.