This week, I think I have found my bitch friend at work. You may have a bitch friend too. They are that person you take a break with at work and spend about 15 minutes bitching at how lazy, stupid, cowardly and/or full on douchey your coworkers are. It’s been nice. Usually I just go outside by myself and yell at a wall while people walk by and think I’m insane. Now I get feedback and affirmation at the complete idiocy of some of my coworkers and people don’t think I’m an escaped mental patient yelling at a doorknob.
I had a guy this morning ask to bum a smoke from me. Sure, why not. It really doesn’t bother me. So I pull them out and was about to hand him one, when he looked at them and said, “Oh no, I can’t do those”, and walked off. Can’t do what exactly? Something that actually tastes good? Okay then. Move along, chump.
I have to get new work shoes this weekend. One of them has finally crapped out to the point that it has started squeaking. It’s annoying and so not ninja. I can be heard through the entire office. This has to be fixed. I’ve tried walking with a limp. It really only squeaks when I bend it, so if I just drag my leg, it’s silent. I was hoping someone would ask, “Oh no, what’s wrong with your leg?” And I could say, “My robot leg is misaligned and I’m all out of WD-40. You got any? How about some oil? Seriously it misfired last night and kicked a hobo to death. You gotta help me.”
Last night I realized that I didn’t have anything that can be considered a real snack and I started to panic.
I went to Bruce Lee’s grave once. Brandon Lee’s, aka The Crow, is right next to his. I went with a friend of mine in college since we both showed up early for a field trip and decided to kill time looking for it. We then did some really horrible stupid karate moves at each other. They were an embarrassment to the art, but I like to think it gave him a laugh.
I got a free burrito today. Our company was celebrating a good Quarter. Of course I wasn’t invited. Almost none of my team was. Why? Because we are contractors. Yes, the people that do next to nothing are associates. The people that make the creative that makes all the money, are contracted. So, even though a high percentage of the success that the company is celebrating was all due to the hard work we had done for them, we weren’t invited. It’s okay though. We do have someone on our team that is an employee and she helped us crash the party. We only had the option of vegetarian burritos when we did, but it still tasted good for a free burrito.
It’s been years since I’ve been out of this state. I would like to go somewhere I can walk outside 1 day out of 30 and not have mother nature pissing all over me. Maybe desert-ish. We should meet up while I’m there and we could have a really fun time and maybe you could accidentally kill a hooker and we could drive to the desert to bury the body and never be able to look each other in the eye or end up in prison for the rest of our lives. Good times.
I bought a sandwich the other day from a deli down the street. It was pre-wrapped and nothing fancy. The price tag said $4.99. The old Asian woman behind the counter said $5-Asian-accent. I handed her $6 and she gave me back a penny. My thought was, “Is this the only spot in the entire state that charges 20% sales tax? I know ours is pretty high, but what the fuck?” But then I had another more important thought that came from my stomach which was, “It’s 5 o’clock in the fucking evening and this is technically your breakfast so shut the fuck up and shove it in your face already.”
Speaking of, I really don’t understand how any of our strategists in my group can be “stressed out”. I see them from time to time running around in a panic. As if they are under a whole lot of pressure to get something done. But, didn’t I just see you go out to an hour and a half lunch with your office girl-friends. How busy can you possibly be sitting at your desk telling people what to do and waiting on others? Most days my lunch break consists of 15 minutes of me shoving some form of food down my throat when I have a split second to take it off the mouse. You don’t know stress, you just think you do.
I don’t know if you remember, but a few weeks back I posted about a cop pulling me over for an out headlight. Yeah, I still haven’t fixed that. I figure there’s more daylight now so if I just get home before headlights are needed, then I’m cool.
Baseball season has started. Did you know? I did. That’s because I work two blocks from the Mariners stadium. And ever day there is a game the traffic is shit and I have to listen to a bunch of jack-off fans yelling and being obnoxious. If you are a Seahawks or Mariners fan, then that’s fine and we can still be friends. But that doesn’t change the fact that I would still want to mow you down in the street when I’m just trying to get home.
These are a lot of randoms for the week and I’m getting bored now.
Also cup cakes are delicious.
I always feel a little bit guilty when someone working a counter all day asks how my day on the weekends. I went in to pick up some wings for dinner and the girl running me up asked how my day was. To which I said, “Fine.”
I said that because from the look on her face she was clearly busy and just had to make an over the phone apology to some customer. So, I figured she was having a bit of a day.
That’s why I’m a little hesitant on telling people that I woke up close to noon, sat in my underwear and goofed around on the internet for a couple hours, then took a four hour nap and now here I am offering food to eat while I sit in my fat ass and watch a couple movies while I get drunk also in my underwear. I don’t like to brag.
Rest in peace, Batman earbuds. We had some good times together. Listening to some good music. Ignoring all the office sounds. I remember the first day I got you. You said, “You have to buy me. I’m Batman.” To which I said, “Oh hell yes I’m buying you.” I knew then by your cheep price that we wouldn’t have long together, but that our time would great. You were my best office friend. I know I was hard on you at times. I’m sure you would have preferred that I lift you gently out of place rather than just rip you from my ears by the cord. I’m sorry for that. I know that had to be rough on you. Just know that you will be missed. I mourned you for an entire hour and a half as I sat in silent, musicless misery. But I’ve learned to embrace life again. I do hope you find peace and happiness in your afterlife in the county dump. Goodbye, Batman earbuds.
I hope everyone had a good week. Mine was shit. Sometimes I really hate being the office problem solver. All the fire-drills somehow end up happening at my desk. All I want to do is listen to my music and concentrate on the task that I’ve been assigned to, but that never seems to be the case for more than a 48 hour period. I’ve asked if I’d get in trouble if I kept a fire-extinguisher on my desk that I can unload every time someone just shows up with a problem. From what I was told, I suppose I’d have to weigh the joy of doing so against how much I want to sit and talk to HR.
On that note, one of those fire drills that came to my desk has this really annoying habit of talking like everything is a question? You know, she raises her voice at the end of every sentence? Like she’s asking a question? Even though she’s making a statement? It’s really annoying? When I’m bored, I often imagine her in different scenarios talking the same way. Just for instance, maybe her life didn’t turn out all that well and she has to rob convenient stores to survive and how that whole thing would play out. I imagine her walking into the 7-11 or where ever and saying, “Okay, give me all the money? I mean, like, don’t make me you shoot you?” And the clerk looking totally confused by what’s happening. I really wish she would stop doing that. I mean, it’s entertaining, but still.
Do you ever have someone at your work that asks you for something, as if you’re the one delaying, when you know they really don’t do shit on a day to day basis? I work with some of the slowest fucking people on the planet; I know this because I’ve seen it. And I know what you’re thinking, but no, you don’t; I do. I also know this because “you are really fast” is the compliment I receive most often. Which tends to make me think, “what the fuck are you doing all day?” So, to have someone that takes a solid two months to get something accomplished ask me for something is a bit irritating. I perform at the capacity of at least three people, so if you haven’t gotten it yet, it means I’m busy so please shut the fuck up and wait.
Oh yeah, this is what I needed. I just bored myself to sleep. I sure hope you didn’t read any of this while operating a motorized vehicle.
I had a Subway sandwich last night. I ordered a footlong. That was because the time before I ordered a 6 inch. I ordered a 6 inch because that is about all I can eat before I feel full and it didn’t seem right to trash the extra 6 inches of sandwich. But when I ordered the 6 inch, it came out to very close to what I pay for a footlong. So, when I went to order it, I checked the pricing. It was $5.75 for the 6 inch, and $7.50 for the footlong. I’m not sure why they came out so close. But, from what I could tell, I could get a second 6 inch for only $1.75. Which I then totally got sick of after about 6 inches and 2 bites of. So, I really just ended up throwing $4 of Subway’s product in the garbage. I’d write them a letter telling them all about how I wasted $4 of their product, but they probably wouldn’t care.
My gummy candy got stale. If you aren’t familiar with this because you have more self-control than me and good for you fuck you, gummy candy gets hard after a while. Sometimes it’s needed, sometimes not. There is a point in time where you have to set the right consistency. Some don’t take long. You open the bag and they have to be eaten in a couple of days. Some, have to age. Like a fine wine. Some are often mushy straight out of the bag. You have to let them sit, bag wide open, for a couple days. Until they harden to the point where they have that snap and consistency between your teeth. Also, the ones that got stale if you care were the gummy cola bottles. If you’ve never had them, then you aren’t a human person and go try them immediately.
What else. Oh, I bought carpet cleaner because I have a few stains on my carpet. I felt totally responsible buying it, but it’ll likely sit on my counter for a day or two until it is put under my kitchen sink never to be used or heard from again.
I was supposed to do laundry this weekend. I didn’t. So my work shirts are definitely going to smell like drier sheets and maybe, hopefully, only faintly like barbeque sauce or whatever that stain is. I guess as long as no one notices I’m set.
I need someone in my life. And I don’t really mean for companionship; even though I don’t have that and it might be a good thing for me. It is kind of lonely. But, what I really mean is, I need my hair cut. I really just take clippers to it with a number three guard and take the whole thing off. But I have to go some place to have that done where they want to make small talk and I’m not paying extra for that. I just feel that if I had that special someone in my life, you know, my soul mate, they would cut my hair.
Speaking of hair, I just want to write a note to myself to remember to trim your nose hair at least more often than every two months. I know you’ll totally forget about this.
I was faced with a really difficult decision today. And I’m happy to report that I made the wise decision. I decided to change the toilet paper roll immediately after it ran out rather than what usually happens where I convince myself that I’ll surely remember next time and then end up waddling to the storage closet with my pants around my ankles.
I had soup for lunch this afternoon. I suppose it’s ideal to eat soup out of a bowl, but I always eat mine out of mug for some reason. I have mugs that can hold a full can of soup and I always use them for that purpose. Always. It’s probably weird. But then again, I always eat my pasta from a bowl; never a plate. Always. And two things about me can be weird. Right?
Jesus this post is long. I guess I’m done. Maybe.
Would a landlord think it would be weird or in violation of their pet policy if I had, say, 50 bats living with me? Just flying around and hanging from things and maybe they would sit with me hanging from the ceiling and I’d toss popcorn in the air that they’d swoop down and catch it while we watched Walking Dead. I mean, that would be awesome, right? No one could possibly have a problem that, right? Right. Thanks. I’m so doing that then.
Notice: Please ignore anything posted on this blog from, oh I don’t know, let’s just say the last three years.
It may be minor. Maybe not. We all tend to bear our lives here to one another. But I’ve just noticed that I have followed many of you for quite some time. And during that time, I’ve noticed some of you mentioning that you have a significant other. You talk about how very special they are and you get all mushy when you talk about them. And sometimes you mention that they also have a Tumblr just like you. Just randomly when you’re talking about how mushy you guys are.
Well here is a couple things I’ve noticed. First thing, gross. Second thing, a lot of the time I don’t see any mention of who they are on Tumblr.
Now, I only mention this because I follow you and really like you. So, chances are that I may also like the other person in your life that you’re all smushy with and gross. I mean, you’re awesome; so I assume that you are with someone equally as awesome. But a lot of the time I don’t know about them.
I guess all I’m suggesting is, and just if you don’t, because I have found many of you Tumblr couples this way, maybe mention the username or tag your significant other in your life when you’re talking about them or just flat out tell me in my inbox because I’m an unobservant moron so I know who to also follow and watch you guys be gross together.
I was consideering writiing a ramblling post about all my troubbles with workk and life but there is so muchh gummy candy goo on my fingegers that I”d just end upp soundding rediculoous.
Step One: Take a handful out of the bag or just dump the whole thing on your desk in front of your computer because it’s one of “those” nights.
Step Two: Stand them all on their feet as if in a large crowd. If any do not stand on their feet, eat them in one bite because they are weak and there is no weakness in this dojo.
Step Three: Stomp around the room saying, “Mwuaahaha”, not caring about the neighbors downstairs because fuck those people they’re assholes.
Step Four: Reach down for one while saying, “Puny bears. Mwuaahaha.”
Step Five: Tear or bite the head clean off while stomping around the room some more. Or if you are a really sick fuck, bite the legs off so it suffers.
Step Six: Show the mutilated corpse to the other bears and say, “You’re next. Mwuaahaha.”
Step Seven: Repeat step three to six until satisfied or until your stomach feels sick or you hate yourself or you get bored.
You would figure a transaction for food would be a simple request that came with just that; food. I give you money, you give me food. End of transaction. But a lot of the time it comes with an additional request. Mainly the promise of free food in exchange for my time and free marketing feedback if I call the 800 number on the back of my receipt.
Now, you would think me slowly pulling away after I’ve been given my food would alert someone to the fact that I no longer wish to engage in a secondary transaction. But, I still get a request for one. Someone will usually tell me, “Call the 800 number on the back of your receipt and you could get a free [insert crappy food item].” Which then forces me to lie right to their face and say, “Oh okay.” Yeah, I’m not doing that. That promise of a [insert crappy food item] is going in the garbage or behind my desk for well past its expiration date.
I get it. You’re a multi-millionaire at a multi-billion dollar company. Of course you would think dangling free crap out in front of us peasants would make us swarm to the phones to give you free marketing research. I mean, you’re not going to use any of the billions of actual company money to pay for that when you can just give away cold french fries.
Well, thanks for your offer of free crap, but I’m not doing that. I know the free user data you will be getting from me is worth far more to you than that $1.08 net value after taxes thing you’re offering me. Seriously, I have like three of them in the form of pocket change in my couch right now. So, don’t be surprised if you don’t receive a phone call from me.
Plus, my time is also valuable. Sure, I spend a lot of my time sitting on my fat ass and eating your food in a pitch black room while the light coming from the television burns my retinas, but it’s still valuable. My sanity is important to me and others around me. Your free cheap crap isn’t.
Now, I know you tell your people to claim that it only takes a minute, but I doubt that. In the mystical land in which I live where time is relative, I know that doing something like that on the phone takes at least a full lunar cycle. And I’m pretty sure you’ll waste my time with advertisements the whole way through. The reward is just not worth it. The whole process would have to take a maximum of seven seconds to even be slightly close to worth that 99 cent thing you think you can bribe me with.
So, I suppose, continue to keep dangling that worthless free item out there for me and I will continue to ignore it. You can just take all the free items I have been promised over the years and refused to accept and, I don’t know, pay your employees a non-poverty wage.