So I'm watching Sesame Street this morning with Liam, Elmo's World to be exact. It's the "Mouth" episode and Mr. Noodle whistles for cab. Nothing funny there right? Well the cab shows up and the driver is a green Muppet with sunglass, a dark green jacket and a mohawk. I then proceed to laugh my ass off!
I then had to explain to my sister-in law why a green Muppet with a mohawk would make me laugh my ass off.
I don't have to explain it to you do I?
Friday, July 31, 2009
In A World Gone Mad
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/07/28/AR2009072800390.html
Not only does everything give you cancer, it also kills the environment.
Humanity as a whole should just drink Jammin' Jonestown Wild Berry Kool-Aid and save the planet. We wouldn't let colon cancer get us, our carbon foot print would be reduced to zero and our dead bodies would be used to feed nature.
But of course our dying decaying bodies would let off a lot of CO2
Am I the only one that wants a Jammin' Jonestown Wild Berry Kool-Aid flavor now?
Not only does everything give you cancer, it also kills the environment.
Humanity as a whole should just drink Jammin' Jonestown Wild Berry Kool-Aid and save the planet. We wouldn't let colon cancer get us, our carbon foot print would be reduced to zero and our dead bodies would be used to feed nature.
But of course our dying decaying bodies would let off a lot of CO2
Am I the only one that wants a Jammin' Jonestown Wild Berry Kool-Aid flavor now?
The Joys of Public Restrooms
So I'm in the restroom at work here and I there is this dude in the far stall doing his business. I get to thinking (as I do when I'm getting rid of my morning tea). I'm thinking there is no way in hell I'd put my bare ass on those toilet seats after seeing the people who belong to the asses that have been there before mine. Unless it was a "I'm gonna shit myself, I ate too much cheese and meat" momment there is no way I'd use a public toilet. Also, a man makes noises while dropping a deuce that should never be public!
When the occasion does arise that I have to use the toilet before I burst, it could be compared to the efforts a ninja would take to assisinate the Emperor. If I get to the restroom and notice another guy in there, I will stand at the urninal and pretend to pee until he leaves. Only until giving myself a three second all clear countdown do I proceed to the stall. After dousing the toilet seat in hand (ass) sanitizer, I do my business. If somebody happens to walk in while I'm doing "the business" I will sit there and not make a sound, kinda like a deer, until they leave. If they happen to get into the ajacent stall to mine I finish up as soon as possible, consider the Emperor dead, wash my hands and exit the restroom before the other party even suspects there was another person in the stall next to thiers.
Which brings to my last, whatever the hell you want to call this thing, ?observations? The three kinds of poopers. First, there's The Casual Male, you see him walk to the toilet with the newspaper under arm, cup of coffee in hand, acting like he's at home. This is the guy that will carry on stall to stall conversations with the male next to him. He recognizes people by thier shoes, and the sound of thier voice.
Second there's the I'm Just Going to the Bathroom Male. This is the guy who goes in, does his businees and leaves. Doesn't talk to anybody, gets in and gets out. Like a stealth assassin, but instead of murdering the president of some third world country, he's taking a poo.
Finally, and my least favorite there's the Berserker. The guy who lets you know what going on by making horrible noises that could be only described as a gorrilla having angry sex with an even angrier cat. They come charging into the restroom, find an open stall, rape the toilet and sit there for 15 mins. When they're done there is an errie calm and the sound of porcelain crying. It's terrifying, and they do this anywhere from one to three times a day depending on what they ate for breakfast, brunch, lunch, the after lunch lunch, and the pre-going home feast. Did I forget to mention that they normallly wiegh in at 250+ pounds.
Why did I dispatch on poopers instead of my job like promised? Because I'm an ass, deal with it.
When the occasion does arise that I have to use the toilet before I burst, it could be compared to the efforts a ninja would take to assisinate the Emperor. If I get to the restroom and notice another guy in there, I will stand at the urninal and pretend to pee until he leaves. Only until giving myself a three second all clear countdown do I proceed to the stall. After dousing the toilet seat in hand (ass) sanitizer, I do my business. If somebody happens to walk in while I'm doing "the business" I will sit there and not make a sound, kinda like a deer, until they leave. If they happen to get into the ajacent stall to mine I finish up as soon as possible, consider the Emperor dead, wash my hands and exit the restroom before the other party even suspects there was another person in the stall next to thiers.
Which brings to my last, whatever the hell you want to call this thing, ?observations? The three kinds of poopers. First, there's The Casual Male, you see him walk to the toilet with the newspaper under arm, cup of coffee in hand, acting like he's at home. This is the guy that will carry on stall to stall conversations with the male next to him. He recognizes people by thier shoes, and the sound of thier voice.
Second there's the I'm Just Going to the Bathroom Male. This is the guy who goes in, does his businees and leaves. Doesn't talk to anybody, gets in and gets out. Like a stealth assassin, but instead of murdering the president of some third world country, he's taking a poo.
Finally, and my least favorite there's the Berserker. The guy who lets you know what going on by making horrible noises that could be only described as a gorrilla having angry sex with an even angrier cat. They come charging into the restroom, find an open stall, rape the toilet and sit there for 15 mins. When they're done there is an errie calm and the sound of porcelain crying. It's terrifying, and they do this anywhere from one to three times a day depending on what they ate for breakfast, brunch, lunch, the after lunch lunch, and the pre-going home feast. Did I forget to mention that they normallly wiegh in at 250+ pounds.
Why did I dispatch on poopers instead of my job like promised? Because I'm an ass, deal with it.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Why I Hate My Job!
I'm sure I can break this down into three episodes" Part one, The Co-workers. Part Two, The Job I do, and Part Three The Company.
Today's episode the Co-workers!
So it's a Monday which is massive suckage to begin with, but it also sucks even more because for the first 2 hours of anybody shift, it is filled with the overpowering buzz of my co-workers bragging, sharing, and prattling on about their weekend. A majority of the people I work with are well diverse, they all like and do different things, they only seem to congregate in herds when discussing Television, Managment and other co-workers.
After six years of studying the species I've dubbed, Oldus Unionus Overwieghtus Womanus, I've come to notice a couple of things, in my office there are two types of people, the "Minimals" and the "Load Bearers".
Spotting The Minimal is easy, in an 8 hour workday, they do what is at least expected of them, and they only do what instructed to do i.e. You say "Hey put these 10 boxes on top of each other" they say "Sure!" and they do. But problems occur when the stack of boxes gets to high for them to stack the last 3, so they sit there and wait 15 mins for you to come back and tell them to use a ladder and stack the last 3. After they're done stacking the 10 boxes they will sit and engage in idle chat until you come back and give them another task.
They also have another quark, if you give them a set amount of work they must get done in an 8 hour day, they will do one of two things (which gets broken down even further, I'll explain in a bit) First if they feel the work is too much for them to accomplish in an 8 hour period (stack 50 boxes) they will complain, unionize, and next thing you know you're asking them to stack 25 boxes in an 7 hour period (you now have to give them a 30 min lunch and two 15 min breaks). That's number one, the second park of the quark is, if the work you give them is acceptable and they agree (25 boxes in an 7 hour period) they will (here's where it gets tricky) either take the full 7 hours to stack the 25 boxes or they will stack the 25 boxes in 1 hour (which is what it would normally take) and spend the rest of the 6 hours in idle chat or consuming. That is how The Minimal works. Their attributes are, they are normally overwieght, loud, complain loudly about anything, enjoy thier milk and honey job, and refer to people below them as "Idiots"
Explaining The Load Bearer is easy, and can be done with one sentence. The Load Bearer gets to make up the work that minimal doesn't do. The Load Bearer does this by choice only. They are not forced to do it, they have the same pay scale, hours, union as The Minimal, but they feel it is thier duty and job to go above and beyond what the job is. The Load Bearer can usually be spotted by thier contempt for thier co-workers, constant complaining about their job, refering to EVERYBODY as idiots, and red circles around the temple area of the head from constant rubbing.
I am a Load Bearer, I will stack 80 boxes in a day (I don't really stack boxes for a living, but it's just as mind numbing) make the same amount of money as a 25 box stacker. I get yelled at and told to get back to work when I take the last 15 mins of my shift to sit idle and talk with the only other guy in my office who isn't a Minimal. He's not really a Load Bearer, but a half-breed, He's a Minimal Load Bearer. He's one of those people who does the work of a Minimal but has the attributes of a Load Bearer. Stacks 30 boxes instead of 25, pretends he's stacked 100, engages in idle chit chat, but complains about the people who engage in idle chit chat.
My office is pretty much 90% Minimal and 10% Load Bearer, so it makes for some tense times when I'm told I need to pick up the pace becuase we have 1200 boxes that need to be stacked in an 8 hour day.
Stay tuned for the next installment Part 2, My mind numbing job.
Today's episode the Co-workers!
So it's a Monday which is massive suckage to begin with, but it also sucks even more because for the first 2 hours of anybody shift, it is filled with the overpowering buzz of my co-workers bragging, sharing, and prattling on about their weekend. A majority of the people I work with are well diverse, they all like and do different things, they only seem to congregate in herds when discussing Television, Managment and other co-workers.
After six years of studying the species I've dubbed, Oldus Unionus Overwieghtus Womanus, I've come to notice a couple of things, in my office there are two types of people, the "Minimals" and the "Load Bearers".
Spotting The Minimal is easy, in an 8 hour workday, they do what is at least expected of them, and they only do what instructed to do i.e. You say "Hey put these 10 boxes on top of each other" they say "Sure!" and they do. But problems occur when the stack of boxes gets to high for them to stack the last 3, so they sit there and wait 15 mins for you to come back and tell them to use a ladder and stack the last 3. After they're done stacking the 10 boxes they will sit and engage in idle chat until you come back and give them another task.
They also have another quark, if you give them a set amount of work they must get done in an 8 hour day, they will do one of two things (which gets broken down even further, I'll explain in a bit) First if they feel the work is too much for them to accomplish in an 8 hour period (stack 50 boxes) they will complain, unionize, and next thing you know you're asking them to stack 25 boxes in an 7 hour period (you now have to give them a 30 min lunch and two 15 min breaks). That's number one, the second park of the quark is, if the work you give them is acceptable and they agree (25 boxes in an 7 hour period) they will (here's where it gets tricky) either take the full 7 hours to stack the 25 boxes or they will stack the 25 boxes in 1 hour (which is what it would normally take) and spend the rest of the 6 hours in idle chat or consuming. That is how The Minimal works. Their attributes are, they are normally overwieght, loud, complain loudly about anything, enjoy thier milk and honey job, and refer to people below them as "Idiots"
Explaining The Load Bearer is easy, and can be done with one sentence. The Load Bearer gets to make up the work that minimal doesn't do. The Load Bearer does this by choice only. They are not forced to do it, they have the same pay scale, hours, union as The Minimal, but they feel it is thier duty and job to go above and beyond what the job is. The Load Bearer can usually be spotted by thier contempt for thier co-workers, constant complaining about their job, refering to EVERYBODY as idiots, and red circles around the temple area of the head from constant rubbing.
I am a Load Bearer, I will stack 80 boxes in a day (I don't really stack boxes for a living, but it's just as mind numbing) make the same amount of money as a 25 box stacker. I get yelled at and told to get back to work when I take the last 15 mins of my shift to sit idle and talk with the only other guy in my office who isn't a Minimal. He's not really a Load Bearer, but a half-breed, He's a Minimal Load Bearer. He's one of those people who does the work of a Minimal but has the attributes of a Load Bearer. Stacks 30 boxes instead of 25, pretends he's stacked 100, engages in idle chit chat, but complains about the people who engage in idle chit chat.
My office is pretty much 90% Minimal and 10% Load Bearer, so it makes for some tense times when I'm told I need to pick up the pace becuase we have 1200 boxes that need to be stacked in an 8 hour day.
Stay tuned for the next installment Part 2, My mind numbing job.
Friday, July 17, 2009
I hate my co-workers
So AT&T and CWA (My union) have reached a tenative agreement for a new 3 year contract. Awesome right! No Strike! Wrong! Apparently my peers seem that the contract isn't good enough and demand better. What's wrong with the contract you ask? I have no idea...I guess what I think as good (a 3% wage increase, full medical coverage with no co-pay along with other perks) the people in office think it's a slap in the face for the ammount of money they make the company.
Mind you these people have no formal education, nobody went to college 4 years to train for this job. Nobody really does any work, you pretty much sit on your ass 8 hours, type and aruge with people. We're not out selling or dealing with pissed off customers. We sit here, type and argue.
There are people who are un-employed, people who have to work 60 hours a week just to make ends meet. People loosing thier house, but the fat asses in my office think that being in the uppper 1% for pay and benefits in the country isn't good enough? It's disgusting! I'm disgusted right now with my Union, and the fact that what we have now isnt' good enough? I don't want to go on strike for something better! I have kids at home, I have enjoy drinking good beer! I don't want to have to give that up becasue everybody wants more. I'm happy making $26 an hour, hell I'd be happy making $15 an hour!
I think I need to find another job, one that isn't populated with greedy, overweight, ignorate bitches.
Mind you these people have no formal education, nobody went to college 4 years to train for this job. Nobody really does any work, you pretty much sit on your ass 8 hours, type and aruge with people. We're not out selling or dealing with pissed off customers. We sit here, type and argue.
There are people who are un-employed, people who have to work 60 hours a week just to make ends meet. People loosing thier house, but the fat asses in my office think that being in the uppper 1% for pay and benefits in the country isn't good enough? It's disgusting! I'm disgusted right now with my Union, and the fact that what we have now isnt' good enough? I don't want to go on strike for something better! I have kids at home, I have enjoy drinking good beer! I don't want to have to give that up becasue everybody wants more. I'm happy making $26 an hour, hell I'd be happy making $15 an hour!
I think I need to find another job, one that isn't populated with greedy, overweight, ignorate bitches.
Oh now I remember....
After a trip to the community urinal, I'm reminded why I don't like drinking coffee. There's just something unnerving about about peeing coffee...
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
What's it Like Working With Old Women?
It's a lot like spending a summer with your Great-Aunt.
No, not the one that stuffs you full of cookies and has a bible with your mother's entire family tree in it. The one who's grandkids you love playing with, and who has the neatest toys! I'm talking about the Great-Aunt who smells like a stale cigarette, the who always complains about how much better things used to be. The one who asks for your help just so she can tell you you how much better her grandkids would've done it. The one who when her grandkids come over they get spoiled with stuff the good great-aunt would've spoiled you with.
The one that makes you wonder why you are putting up with her in the first place, then you remember oh yeah, she has a pool and lots of money.
That is what it is like being in an office with old women, I'm only putting up with it because of the pool and money. Yes, I'd like to sneak into thier bedroom when they sleep and hover over them with a pillow and play God and think to myself "I could end your life right now, and all would be good."
...but that would be psychotic of me.
No, not the one that stuffs you full of cookies and has a bible with your mother's entire family tree in it. The one who's grandkids you love playing with, and who has the neatest toys! I'm talking about the Great-Aunt who smells like a stale cigarette, the who always complains about how much better things used to be. The one who asks for your help just so she can tell you you how much better her grandkids would've done it. The one who when her grandkids come over they get spoiled with stuff the good great-aunt would've spoiled you with.
The one that makes you wonder why you are putting up with her in the first place, then you remember oh yeah, she has a pool and lots of money.
That is what it is like being in an office with old women, I'm only putting up with it because of the pool and money. Yes, I'd like to sneak into thier bedroom when they sleep and hover over them with a pillow and play God and think to myself "I could end your life right now, and all would be good."
...but that would be psychotic of me.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Hey, you know what I didn't need to see?
A 58 year old woman wearing a mini-skirt.
I am bannishing my eyesight, it has brought me great harm and what it has done to me cannot be forgiven.
I love this office.
I am bannishing my eyesight, it has brought me great harm and what it has done to me cannot be forgiven.
I love this office.
You Know What I Don't Need for My Birthday or Christmas?
Strife, and agony!
I don't need any of those. No sir, got me plenty of that right now, so much I'm thinking about re-gifting it back to those who gave it to me. Hell, I'll even re-use the bag and tissue paper it came in, I'm not proud.
Here's the good:
Casey's Sunday night 10 hour solid sleep fest was not a one time thing, he did it again last night! I forgot what a solid 7 hours of sleep felt like!
I'm finally getting those fiddle lessions I've been wanting!
There is an air of calm under my roof, tempers have not flared up since Sunday night, I know it's only been one day, but hey baby steps.
Liam is starting to realise that Casey is not a toy and is learning the fine art of "Gentle" and "Nice"
Casey seems to be all around different baby, he's smiling more, gurgling, happy, doesn't need to be held on a constant basis.
I have a day off next Friday (the 24th)
We got our refinance on the house! Hello $100 cheaper payment!
Now the Bad, and belive me these are big bads!
Well Casey has ruptured ear drums from an ear infection. Temporary (I hope!) hearing loss, and they should heal and he'd be back to normal.
We have no insurance for Casey until the 1st of August, which leads me too...
We owe $20,000 for Casey's Dr. Visits, Hospital stay, and Birth. "Why?" you ask, well it turns out when we added Casey to our insurance and we were told "Everything is fine, he's added" what the guy meant to say was "I'm a fucking idiot and forgot to tell you that we need his birth certificate!" English, what a confusing language right? So everything that was covered is now denied and we have to fax in his certificate, and appeal all the denied claims, cause you know I have nothing better to do with my time then screw around with Insurance companies.
I guess it's not too bad, at least the good outweighs the bad. So I guess the saying is true, hows it go? Oh yeah, "God opens a window after he roundhouses you in the nutbag"
lousy deity....*fist shake*
I don't need any of those. No sir, got me plenty of that right now, so much I'm thinking about re-gifting it back to those who gave it to me. Hell, I'll even re-use the bag and tissue paper it came in, I'm not proud.
Here's the good:
Casey's Sunday night 10 hour solid sleep fest was not a one time thing, he did it again last night! I forgot what a solid 7 hours of sleep felt like!
I'm finally getting those fiddle lessions I've been wanting!
There is an air of calm under my roof, tempers have not flared up since Sunday night, I know it's only been one day, but hey baby steps.
Liam is starting to realise that Casey is not a toy and is learning the fine art of "Gentle" and "Nice"
Casey seems to be all around different baby, he's smiling more, gurgling, happy, doesn't need to be held on a constant basis.
I have a day off next Friday (the 24th)
We got our refinance on the house! Hello $100 cheaper payment!
Now the Bad, and belive me these are big bads!
Well Casey has ruptured ear drums from an ear infection. Temporary (I hope!) hearing loss, and they should heal and he'd be back to normal.
We have no insurance for Casey until the 1st of August, which leads me too...
We owe $20,000 for Casey's Dr. Visits, Hospital stay, and Birth. "Why?" you ask, well it turns out when we added Casey to our insurance and we were told "Everything is fine, he's added" what the guy meant to say was "I'm a fucking idiot and forgot to tell you that we need his birth certificate!" English, what a confusing language right? So everything that was covered is now denied and we have to fax in his certificate, and appeal all the denied claims, cause you know I have nothing better to do with my time then screw around with Insurance companies.
I guess it's not too bad, at least the good outweighs the bad. So I guess the saying is true, hows it go? Oh yeah, "God opens a window after he roundhouses you in the nutbag"
lousy deity....*fist shake*
Monday, July 13, 2009
I am an asshole
Plain and simple! What should've been a wonderful Sunday celebrating my son's baptisim turned into me being an utter and complete asshole. Don't know why, some would like to say I drank too much, some could say I mixed my beer and whiskey, some could even go as far to say, I'm just an asshole plain and simple. I think it's a combination of all three.
Without going into details of last evenings events, I'm now sitting at work in front of my monitor wishing I was at home with my family because I feel like such a douchebag.
Casey decided he wanted to sleep the entire night! From 8-6 he slept without a peep. Do you think I got to enjoy the same thing? No, I was too busy being pissed at my self and hardly slept.
Without going into details of last evenings events, I'm now sitting at work in front of my monitor wishing I was at home with my family because I feel like such a douchebag.
Casey decided he wanted to sleep the entire night! From 8-6 he slept without a peep. Do you think I got to enjoy the same thing? No, I was too busy being pissed at my self and hardly slept.
Friday, July 10, 2009
I don't think a sandwich is going to save today.
Started the day off fighting with the wife, and I mean fighting, there was shoving yelling and a child getting under toe. I think I reached my breaking point, I'm just getting tired of being treated like a roomate, bank, and a house nig.
It all started over breakfast, (most of our fights start over breakfast) she was eating pancakes and got butter on her shirt. Which upset her, so I asked her if I can get her a paper towel, "It's butter!" she snapped at me, "Well then you want a peice of toast then?" I said, trying to make light of the situation. Then she decided to treat me like a kid and begin to tell me how much she doesn't appreciate it when I mock her and patrionize her, both words she really doesn't under stand the concept of, I just think she says them because they sound like they'd fit.
Well I apologized for "mocking" her and told her I wasn't mocking her I was making light of the situation. So as I'm putting my shoes on she decides she wants to start crying like a little brat. So I told her I'm done, I'm going to work, you can stay here and have your family over, they're at my house more then I am, they can move in. I'm going to work so I can buy food for your sister and her kids everytime they come over, and you can take care of your own whenever you feel like it. She then decided she wanted to get in my way and bar me from leaving because she wasn't going to let me leave pissed because it will ruin my day. "It doesn't matter what fucking mood I leave in, my day gets progressivly worse as soon as I leave!" "I go to work and argue with people and clean up messes, I come home and argue with you and clean up messes!"
A pushing match ensued with me playing the role of the unstopple force and the wife taking the role of the un-moveable object. I won and left the house in a huff with the wife in tears.
I think it stemmed off from last night when I was talking to the wife and The Buzz came on, that little 5 min section of the 6:00 news when they prattle on about how awesome Hollywood is and why we should care that Michael Jackson is being buried with a glove on...big fucking whoop right? Well too my wife it is the most important 5 mins of her day, I hope to God that Casey doesn't start saying his first words during The Buzz otherwise the wife'll tell him to shut up.
Now I've given up a lot of things I like to do ever since I've gotten married and have had kids, I tend to not care what other people do unless it happens under my roof, you think my wife could do the same? No, I was told to turn my music down while I was cleaning the kitchen and making my lunch and getting everything ready for the next morning. Was it that my music was so loud the neighbors could hear it? Was it that I was listening to Pantera and she was getting sick of hearing swears and awesome guitar solo's? No, I was listening to Bluegrass and it was disctracting her from listening to Michael Jackson which she had cranked up on the computer. so I asked her to turn down MJ, because "You never listened to him before the fucker died, now you're a born again fan, I swear it's like 9-11 all over again! Everyone is a born again fan!" I said. "Well he meant a lot to me, he was a great artist, and I'll miss him." That's about the point I lost it, "Does that fucker put a roof over your head? Did that fucker give you two wonderful children? Does that fucker go to a job he hates everyday to make sure you can stay home with the kids? Has that fucker ever told you he loves you? NO!" "If he means so much to you, WTF do I mean to you?" "I get nagged everytime I do something, I get to listen to you complain about EVERYTHING!"
So here I sit at work getting pissed off, and wondering where my future is heading, just a normal day in this pathetic life of mine.
***update***
So after feeling horrible for my actions this morning, yes I'll be the first the admit, I have a short temper, it's gotten even shorter in the past 4 months, I don't know why. I apologized to my wife and admitted that I could've handled the whole event a little better instead of acting like an angry gorrilla. I explained to her what caused me to blow up, she didn't quite to seem to understand why I was telling her she needs to grow up, (I think it was an instance of Pot calling Kettle black) But all seems to be ok for now, I'm still at work but I think I'm going to stop by Discount Liqour and pick up a six pack of something, and lament about my life to somebody who'll listen.
It all started over breakfast, (most of our fights start over breakfast) she was eating pancakes and got butter on her shirt. Which upset her, so I asked her if I can get her a paper towel, "It's butter!" she snapped at me, "Well then you want a peice of toast then?" I said, trying to make light of the situation. Then she decided to treat me like a kid and begin to tell me how much she doesn't appreciate it when I mock her and patrionize her, both words she really doesn't under stand the concept of, I just think she says them because they sound like they'd fit.
Well I apologized for "mocking" her and told her I wasn't mocking her I was making light of the situation. So as I'm putting my shoes on she decides she wants to start crying like a little brat. So I told her I'm done, I'm going to work, you can stay here and have your family over, they're at my house more then I am, they can move in. I'm going to work so I can buy food for your sister and her kids everytime they come over, and you can take care of your own whenever you feel like it. She then decided she wanted to get in my way and bar me from leaving because she wasn't going to let me leave pissed because it will ruin my day. "It doesn't matter what fucking mood I leave in, my day gets progressivly worse as soon as I leave!" "I go to work and argue with people and clean up messes, I come home and argue with you and clean up messes!"
A pushing match ensued with me playing the role of the unstopple force and the wife taking the role of the un-moveable object. I won and left the house in a huff with the wife in tears.
I think it stemmed off from last night when I was talking to the wife and The Buzz came on, that little 5 min section of the 6:00 news when they prattle on about how awesome Hollywood is and why we should care that Michael Jackson is being buried with a glove on...big fucking whoop right? Well too my wife it is the most important 5 mins of her day, I hope to God that Casey doesn't start saying his first words during The Buzz otherwise the wife'll tell him to shut up.
Now I've given up a lot of things I like to do ever since I've gotten married and have had kids, I tend to not care what other people do unless it happens under my roof, you think my wife could do the same? No, I was told to turn my music down while I was cleaning the kitchen and making my lunch and getting everything ready for the next morning. Was it that my music was so loud the neighbors could hear it? Was it that I was listening to Pantera and she was getting sick of hearing swears and awesome guitar solo's? No, I was listening to Bluegrass and it was disctracting her from listening to Michael Jackson which she had cranked up on the computer. so I asked her to turn down MJ, because "You never listened to him before the fucker died, now you're a born again fan, I swear it's like 9-11 all over again! Everyone is a born again fan!" I said. "Well he meant a lot to me, he was a great artist, and I'll miss him." That's about the point I lost it, "Does that fucker put a roof over your head? Did that fucker give you two wonderful children? Does that fucker go to a job he hates everyday to make sure you can stay home with the kids? Has that fucker ever told you he loves you? NO!" "If he means so much to you, WTF do I mean to you?" "I get nagged everytime I do something, I get to listen to you complain about EVERYTHING!"
So here I sit at work getting pissed off, and wondering where my future is heading, just a normal day in this pathetic life of mine.
***update***
So after feeling horrible for my actions this morning, yes I'll be the first the admit, I have a short temper, it's gotten even shorter in the past 4 months, I don't know why. I apologized to my wife and admitted that I could've handled the whole event a little better instead of acting like an angry gorrilla. I explained to her what caused me to blow up, she didn't quite to seem to understand why I was telling her she needs to grow up, (I think it was an instance of Pot calling Kettle black) But all seems to be ok for now, I'm still at work but I think I'm going to stop by Discount Liqour and pick up a six pack of something, and lament about my life to somebody who'll listen.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
You better not fail me roast beef sandwich
It's gotten so bad, that the rest of my day is hinging on how well my Roast beef and Co-jack cheese sandwich performs in 20 mins.
Lunch, it's the only thing I look forward to during my work day, well that and going home.
I think I'm going to start little blurbs here and there about my co-workers, for example the two fatties who complain that they diet but can't loose the wieght. Well, I think eating two Lean Cuisine Microwave Lunch's kinda defeats thier purpose.
Or the chick in this office who has had more body work done then a '78 Camero, and dresses like she has the figure of a 16 year old, when she really has the figure of an over stuffed sausage.
***Update***
1:00 while my sandwich was very delcious and did put up a good fight trying to conquer my workday fits of rage, it was not enough and the feeling of "I'd rather pound nails into my dick then sit here" still lingers on....
Lunch, it's the only thing I look forward to during my work day, well that and going home.
I think I'm going to start little blurbs here and there about my co-workers, for example the two fatties who complain that they diet but can't loose the wieght. Well, I think eating two Lean Cuisine Microwave Lunch's kinda defeats thier purpose.
Or the chick in this office who has had more body work done then a '78 Camero, and dresses like she has the figure of a 16 year old, when she really has the figure of an over stuffed sausage.
***Update***
1:00 while my sandwich was very delcious and did put up a good fight trying to conquer my workday fits of rage, it was not enough and the feeling of "I'd rather pound nails into my dick then sit here" still lingers on....
Monday, July 6, 2009
Jabba the Rep
Another post at work!
I sit kitty corner from this rep here who is morbidly obese and laughs like ooooh oooooh oooooh, so guess what I call her?
Did I mention I know so much about her personal life and I yet have to talk to her?
Things I've learned from her talking so loud:
Her mother is 84 and bought her own birthday cake this weekend
She used to date or hang out with somebody at Sprecher years ago
She has a daughter with cerebal paulsy or something like that
Her ex-husband left her
She has land somwhere up north
Her lawnmower wouldn't start this weekend
She has a pontoon boat
Her last name is Hungarian
She enjoys Summerfest, Wisconsin State Fair, Hot Dogs, Children (for dinner or just in general I don't know yet)
That's all I care to mention at this point.
I sit kitty corner from this rep here who is morbidly obese and laughs like ooooh oooooh oooooh, so guess what I call her?
Did I mention I know so much about her personal life and I yet have to talk to her?
Things I've learned from her talking so loud:
Her mother is 84 and bought her own birthday cake this weekend
She used to date or hang out with somebody at Sprecher years ago
She has a daughter with cerebal paulsy or something like that
Her ex-husband left her
She has land somwhere up north
Her lawnmower wouldn't start this weekend
She has a pontoon boat
Her last name is Hungarian
She enjoys Summerfest, Wisconsin State Fair, Hot Dogs, Children (for dinner or just in general I don't know yet)
That's all I care to mention at this point.
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