America: Home of the Brave, Land of the Lazy

I’m convinced that we as Americans have to be some of the laziest fucking people on the planet. I’m not saying there is anything wrong with having things that make life convenient. After all, God knows I’m grateful to whoever invented the remote control and pre-sliced bread. There are however, a plethora of things I keep saying that always makes me say “Who the fuck is that lazy?”. 

Yesterday my coworker told me that there were now pajama jeans for men and I couldn’t believe it. So what does any normal person do when they want to validate a claim and get factual answers? They Google it. Imagine my surprise when I found these babies:

Why yes, I am a douche bag

Snazzy aye? These are actually a rip off of the Pajama Jeans brand that I’m sure many of you have seen in the infomercial. They’re called “Knit Jean Lounge Pants” and  apparently are a hot seller because they are completely sold out on the website! Who in the fuck is buying these?? But wait…it gets even better. If you don’t want the douchebag, distressed, it looks like you’ve been slashed at by Freddie Kruger style then maybe these are the ones for you:

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Random Things I’ll Never Understand… or Want To

Good morning. Happy Monday, although I know that’s an oxymoron for some, it isn’t for me because I was 30 minutes late to work and still managed to be the first one here. As a matter of fact, I’m the only one here and I have no clue where my four coworkers are. Anyway, as I was driving in this morning I succumbed to my usual bouts of road rage when some asshole in a MPV turned into my lane going 30mph as I was going 60mph. Never mind that there was a completely empty lane to my right reserved for minivans, handicapped persons and whoever else chooses to drive the speed limit. This idiot decided to meander in front of me and almost purposefully, at least I think it was, drive 20 miles under the limit. Why people do this shit is beyond me and it got me to thinking about other things I just cant comprehend.

#2 – Crying when celebrities die.

I know I’m not alone here yet people have tried to make me feel like some sort of cold-hearted, soul-less bitch for not crying or giving more than half a shit when a celebrity passes away. I swear I got so much grief when Michael Jackson died because everyone around me was all, “OH MY GAWD!!!! NOOOOOOO NOT MJJJJJJJ!!! JESUS WHY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! WHY BABY JESUS DID YOU TAKE THE KING OF POP?! TAKE ME INSTEAD!!!!”, and I was like “Damn, Michael Jackson died? That’s crazy.” Am I wrong? I just don’t see the purpose in crying over someone who doesn’t even know I exist or that would touch my son inappropriately if I let him spend the night at his ranch. I’m just saying. I don’t understand why people care.

#3 – Fascination with reality TV

I guess this tags along with the last one. As you can see I don’t really comprehend the fascination with celebrities or even worse, people who are famous for being famous, or famous for being with someone famous. Continue reading

The Idiot At My Job

Goodmorning. How was your Thanksgiving? Good? Great. Now that the formalities are out of the way let’s get to the subject at hand shall we?

If you’ve read previous posts on here you might have noticed that I’ve referenced a certain someone who works at my job that I cannot stand. I don’t deal with her often but I swear every interaction I have with her leaves me either perplexed, annoyed, or in laughter because she’s just that…well, idiotic. I know it’s not nice to call people idiots and everyone is prone to episodes of idiocy but I truly believe that she is an idiot. I  mean, there’s no other way to describe the shit she does. I’ll let you judge. Let me share with you some of the encounters I’ve had and you can tell me if I’m being to harsh or not ok? Great. 

Sign #1 

She talks to me while I’m using the bathroom. I don’t mean a quick hello while I’m washing my hands, no. I mean a full fledged conversation about the smell of the hand soap while I’m in MY stall trying to handle business. I say it’s my stall because there aren’t many women working in my building, I’ve been here for almost 5 years and I claimed it as mine. She comes in and yells “WHO’S IN MY STALL??!” I roll my eyes and say something to the effect of “I didn’t see your name on it.” Then she gets in the stall next to me instead of the further stall. Violation. 

Sign #2

She has no job title so she looks for random shit to do. Why she’s still employed here is an enigma to me. Recently she was put in charge of “Computer Maintenance”. What prey tell is computer maintenance? It’s making sure the computers are dusted and that they start when you boot them up. That’s pretty much it. Yesterday she broke one of the monitors. I could rest my case here but I have more. Continue reading

Random Thoughts of a Saturday Morning Brain

I really can’t wait until the clocks go back tomorrow. Although I probably will just stay awake instead of going to sleep earlier which pretty much defeats the purpose I guess. 

I saw that video of the judge whooping his daughters ass when she was 16 and I just want to know why she was crying? He wasn’t even hitting her hard. I mean, my dad used to whoop ass. Serious. Ass. At 16 why are you even still getting whoopings? My mom wasn’t having that. She just said get out  my house and don’t come back. Problem solved. If I was her dad I would’ve whooped her at 23 for posting the video. If he gets jail time or anything for that then it’s complete bullshit in my opinion.

If you wake up on a Saturday morning and start Tweeting and Facebooking before you brush your teeth or take your morning shit then you need to re-evalutate your life. I’m at work. <—My excuse. What’s yours? Your life is not that exciting at 8 am on a Saturday morning.

You ever have a dream that felt so real you woke up and thought it was? Happened to me last night. Woke up mad as shit till I realized it didn’t really happen.

You haven’t felt struggle until you’ve taken a shower with no shower curtain or wiped your ass with a paper towel. *writes down as topic for Monday’s post* Continue reading