Thursday, March 13, 2008

I've gotten mail with what I hope are chocolate stains!

-Day 72. Do not believe yourself healthy. Immortality is health; this life is a long sickness.- ST. AUGUSTINE, Sermons

I was in the middle of putting a proposal together for an attorney and had to stop to blow my nose (I was infected YET AGAIN by the germ carrying gray haired bats), when I realized my germs were going to be stuffed into an envelope and mailed to a suburb near me.

I'm sending my germs to an attorney who has fought with me for 7 months. He deserves to be sniffling, coughing and sounding like Elmer Fud. If you try to make my life uncomfortable, I'll give you a big germy kiss!


I started laughing evilly. BWAHA HA HA-- Then I thought "Wait a sec... Aaaaargh! I get mail too..."

This sent me into convulsions because I thought of all the letters and envelopes that I handle on a daily basis. Papers that go thru my desk coming from one place or another... what were people doing before they sent them to me??? ::Blech!::

What about all the junk mail we get? You can't tell me it's not put together by someone in their basement...

I. Can. No. Longer. Focus.

Nobody send me anything!
... ... Unless it's a winning lottery ticket or money.

I was just punished by Karma! I sneezed and hit publish accidentally. Oops.

I promise not to make you sick if you click on humor-blogs for me.

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Square is the new cool. I should know.

-Day 71.

So...

My day consisted of me listening to 6 women complain about their husbands' illnesses. They're all in their 60s so they range from back problems to inability to digest food.

I've heard it all.

Bowel movements, ear wax buildup, enlarged prostrates- the freakin' works people!

This got me day dreaming about the job I had previous to this one.
Where I worked in a cubicle with movable walls.

And I sighed.

Then there was this one time the office skanks were talking about their "dates" and I moved one of my walls so I could be completely enclosed in awesome privacy.

I remembered all this and cried.

Well, not really cried but my upper lip did the sad droopy thing. Okay maybe there was ONE tear.
:'o{

To all you people who hate cubicles I say:

Stop yer bitchin'!!!

The end.


Tuesday, March 11, 2008

To the jag that splatted the mac, I still know your plates!

-Day 70.
2 Things before the serious post:
First, Check out Bloggers in a Swimsuit over at jean knee's! You'll laugh you'll cry. You'll want us to be on TV. Go! Then come back please.

Second, I just want all of you to know that Matt Roloff from Little People Big World is NOT guilty! I know you were worried! Oh, and it looks like Zach might have a girlfriend...


So... Tracy wishes to know my Fast Food Topper story.


Warning: This story is not even a little bit funny. It caused emotional distress, trauma and maybe some tears. Maybe.

I worked at a Brown’s Chicken for 9 years. "NINE YEARS??" you say. Yes. 9 years. That’s were I met my Andy.

My 3 brothers and sister worked there as well. The last 3 years there, I was promoted to GM (General Manger). I ran that place with love compassion and whips. The teenie boppers all loved me because I was a fair boss and they never hesitated when I asked them to do something. (Except Andy’s brother and my youngest brother but that’s another story).

One day, my sister was taking an order for a man and his mom. He ordered our special which was 8 pcs of chicken and a bowl of pasta. He had 4 choices of pasta and chose Macaroni.

As in Mac and Cheese. When my sister was pouring the cheese over the pasta, he said wait a minute that’s not what I want! My sis said "you said Mac n cheese but if you’d like, I can give you something else."

He said no, that it was fine and he seemed pretty calm about it. Once he paid and my sister gave him his food, he proceeded to take the Mac out of the bag and slam it on the lobby floor!
SPLAT!! CHEESE SAUCE EVERYWHERE!!

By the time I ran to the front, he had taken off in his pick up but I got the license plate # just in case.
Maybe if I would have jumped over the counter I could have caught up with him but I'm pretty short, no way would I have cleared it.

About 10 minutes later his wife calls saying we had forgotten his pasta and tried TRIED to tear me a new one.



I think by now you know I don’t take shit from anyone. I calmly told her what he did and basically told her it would be a cold day in hell if she thought they could ever come back. She called me a liar. I said "Oh yeah, I have him on video tape surveillance! Maybe you can tell him to come back and clean my lobby? Maybe you can tell him there’s cheese sauce on the walls he can pay to have cleaned." She paused but only for a second and continued her bitching tirade.

In the mean time, that asshole was in the background saying he was going to stuff my lies down my throat. I told the bitch wife that if he ever dared come over I was calling the police since those were real threats.

I finally hung up on her. I called the owner and explained what happened and he said he supported what I did since the guy sounded like an asshole.

NEXT THING YOU KNOW!

The owner calls me back and says he got a call from corporate who asked him to call the customers. He did and now he wanted me to put a bowl of pasta on credit for this piece of shit.

I blew up and told him what I thought.

His response “Listen Bee, this is my business. I can’t turn away a customer just because he was mean to you.”



I agreed that it is his business but I asked him if he had heard the guy ranting and raving in the background. He said "Yeah, he was screaming and swearing. The guy is a real piece of work."

I had a nervous breakdown at Brown's Chicken and Pasta. Bastards!

There used to be a manger who worked @ Brown's when I first started. He was the owner's brother. A little Italian guy that knew people, IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. He would have backed us up even if we were wrong.
Yeah, he was a racist but he was a cute and cuddly racist, kidding. She sold the business to these other guys who didn’t know their ass from a hole in the ground.

My sister and I quit shortly after.



What was their fate after we quit? They went out of business, the restaurant that had been there for 30 years was leveled to the ground and now that property has a bank settled nicely on top of it. Oh and the owner who made the worst decision of his life is now divorced.

Who won?


Naw, I'm not bitter
.
P.S.
If the dickless wonder would have come back, I would have called the cops and then beat the shit out of him while we waited.
Click on my banner if you believe me! ;op