Supervisor. Employed for more than two years. You would think that one would pick up a few rudimentary concepts when working in a certain industry for that period of time.
"Corey, this piece of software says PC/Mac on the side. Will it work with like an HP and stuff?"
----------
"Can I help you find something today?"
"Yeah. I need the cartridge for this printer." ::hands me bar napkin with illegible scribbles::
"Is this an inkjet or laser printer?"
"Inkjet."
::I search furiously through product catalog looking for printer model::
"Oh wait! I think it's on of these big ones." (laser toner, NOT inkjet)
::Looks in different section of catalog. Finds printer model immediately::
----------
"Do you have the UBS cords for printers?"
----------
::customer point to 4 binders that another customer had lain down randomly::
"Are these the only binders you have?"
----------
"What's the difference between these two? Why's this one $100 more?"
"Because they are two entirely different machines."
----------
"This flatbed scanner is $79, but this printer/scanner/copier combo is also $79. Why would I buy just the scanner?"
"I don't know? Why would you?"
----------
I really wish I could say this was an anthology of stupidity collected over the course of a week, but these were all today. Guess who the only person on the sales floor was. Guess who had about a brazillion other things to do. Me, in case you are still pondering. My higher-ups need to get on the ball and hire some motherfuckers so I can do my job. I don't mind helping the occasional customer, but when I'm the only one on the floor being pulled between 7 different palsied shit-for-brains morons it becomes a burden.
Do me a favor. Come to my work, ask stupid questions, and await the act of violence that will end both my job and your consciousness.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Why Flying Sucks...Part 3
I thought I had gotten all of my frustration out on the other posts about flying, but my experiences at two different airports last week have led me to yet another post about the perils of flying.
More on Security -
I have already elaborated on how some people can't seem to handle following simple directions shouted at them in plain English by airport security. If you are hard of hearing, ask someone nearby to explain it to you. If you don't speak English, either learn it or get the fuck out. Even if you don't speak the language or happen to be deaf, you can still understand what is going on simply be mirroring the behavior of other people. If the ten people in line in front of you are taking the change out of their pockets, maybe you should too. Idiot.
Also, those that haven't taken one too many hits to the head and do understand these simple instructions need to take the next step and make sure they are fully prepared when it comes time to walk through the metal detector. When the security guard is beckoning you through, that is not the time to remove your shoes, cell phone, keys, watch, belt, pocketknife, hand grenade, and copper anal beads. These items should have been already taken off and placed on the x-ray machine belt. Just because you want to be a slowass and miss your flight doesn't mean I do. My shoes are already off. Get the fuck out of my way.
More on the Pilot -
If you are the pilot of my aircraft, you have one job: get me to my destination alive. As I have already established, you are not a tour guide or news anchor. Likewise, you are also not a comedian. When my plane landed in Denver, Colorado, the pilot's announcement said, "Aloha. Welcome to Hawaii!" This was not even remotely amusing or productive. The only thing I want to hear from the pilot is the local time, my baggage carousel number, and the words "You may now get off of the plane." Also, given the obvious negative IQ number of most airline passengers, I had to wonder how many of them were freaking out thinking we had actually landed in Hawaii. As if the snow capped mountains weren't a dead giveaway...
Meal Service -
Here's one I haven't covered yet. People on flights get hungry. To accomodate for this, the airline usually provides a free beverage and snack of some kind. Delta gives you a choice of several snacks, ranging from chips to cookies to nuts to granola bars. The flight attendants move up the aisle with both the beverage and snack carts until eventually everything is served. I have some issues with the way this was handled on my last flight. One flight attendant seemed to be in charge of drinks, and the other had control of the snacks. Simple enough. Handing out snacks, however, doesn't take quite as long as serving drinks, so the snack cart lady had made it almost all the way to the back of the plane before the beverage lady was even halfway. More specifically, the snack lady had made it to the seat RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME before suddenly deciding that the drink wench needed assistance. First she parked the snack cart right by my seat, but I couldn't reach it to grab anything for fear of waking the rather large woman snoring next to me. Then she snack bitch came back, but instead of feeding me, she shoved the cart back a few rows and then returned to help with the drinks. I had to watch in vain while the greedy people in the back few rows snatched away the Sun Chips I had been drooling over. It was a full ten minutes before she finally came back and let me have something to eat. Bitch.
The Flight -
Sometimes we are lucky and are seated next to an interesting person with whom we can chat during the flight. If you are one of these people, good for you. But just because you want to have a lengthy discussion with someone doesn't mean that I want to hear it too. When engaging in any kind of conversation on the plane, KEEP THE VOLUME DOWN. I have more important things to listen to than the dumb bitch three rows back describing the rules of the Tour de France in detail to the moron next to her. Nor do I want to hear the man across the aisle arguing with his wife about what to do for dinner or which child they with to ritually sacrifice next. Keep your conversations at a decibel level low enough so that I don't have to deal with it.
This is where I will leave it for now. But I'm sure a fourth installment is inevitable after I fly home in November.
More on Security -
I have already elaborated on how some people can't seem to handle following simple directions shouted at them in plain English by airport security. If you are hard of hearing, ask someone nearby to explain it to you. If you don't speak English, either learn it or get the fuck out. Even if you don't speak the language or happen to be deaf, you can still understand what is going on simply be mirroring the behavior of other people. If the ten people in line in front of you are taking the change out of their pockets, maybe you should too. Idiot.
Also, those that haven't taken one too many hits to the head and do understand these simple instructions need to take the next step and make sure they are fully prepared when it comes time to walk through the metal detector. When the security guard is beckoning you through, that is not the time to remove your shoes, cell phone, keys, watch, belt, pocketknife, hand grenade, and copper anal beads. These items should have been already taken off and placed on the x-ray machine belt. Just because you want to be a slowass and miss your flight doesn't mean I do. My shoes are already off. Get the fuck out of my way.
More on the Pilot -
If you are the pilot of my aircraft, you have one job: get me to my destination alive. As I have already established, you are not a tour guide or news anchor. Likewise, you are also not a comedian. When my plane landed in Denver, Colorado, the pilot's announcement said, "Aloha. Welcome to Hawaii!" This was not even remotely amusing or productive. The only thing I want to hear from the pilot is the local time, my baggage carousel number, and the words "You may now get off of the plane." Also, given the obvious negative IQ number of most airline passengers, I had to wonder how many of them were freaking out thinking we had actually landed in Hawaii. As if the snow capped mountains weren't a dead giveaway...
Meal Service -
Here's one I haven't covered yet. People on flights get hungry. To accomodate for this, the airline usually provides a free beverage and snack of some kind. Delta gives you a choice of several snacks, ranging from chips to cookies to nuts to granola bars. The flight attendants move up the aisle with both the beverage and snack carts until eventually everything is served. I have some issues with the way this was handled on my last flight. One flight attendant seemed to be in charge of drinks, and the other had control of the snacks. Simple enough. Handing out snacks, however, doesn't take quite as long as serving drinks, so the snack cart lady had made it almost all the way to the back of the plane before the beverage lady was even halfway. More specifically, the snack lady had made it to the seat RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME before suddenly deciding that the drink wench needed assistance. First she parked the snack cart right by my seat, but I couldn't reach it to grab anything for fear of waking the rather large woman snoring next to me. Then she snack bitch came back, but instead of feeding me, she shoved the cart back a few rows and then returned to help with the drinks. I had to watch in vain while the greedy people in the back few rows snatched away the Sun Chips I had been drooling over. It was a full ten minutes before she finally came back and let me have something to eat. Bitch.
The Flight -
Sometimes we are lucky and are seated next to an interesting person with whom we can chat during the flight. If you are one of these people, good for you. But just because you want to have a lengthy discussion with someone doesn't mean that I want to hear it too. When engaging in any kind of conversation on the plane, KEEP THE VOLUME DOWN. I have more important things to listen to than the dumb bitch three rows back describing the rules of the Tour de France in detail to the moron next to her. Nor do I want to hear the man across the aisle arguing with his wife about what to do for dinner or which child they with to ritually sacrifice next. Keep your conversations at a decibel level low enough so that I don't have to deal with it.
This is where I will leave it for now. But I'm sure a fourth installment is inevitable after I fly home in November.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
The IT NoHelpLine
I work for a large architecture firm. As anyone who works in the field knows, it's easy to get yourself in trouble if you don't keep a paper trail of everything you do. So for the last 2 years I've been filing all my important incoming and outgoing emails in a "cabinet" on our office email network. I've accumulated several thousand emails, all sorted into their appropriate folders and subfolders, and I reference them on a daily basis for one thing or another. To give you an idea of what's in there, it includes:
--Projects I'm currently working on / tasks to complete
--Old projects that I use for reference
--Office information, in case I need to look up where Joe Smith sits or what codes to bill on my timesheet
Suffice it to say that I have a lot of extremely important information in there. So you can imagine how I almost keeled over in my chair when on Friday I opened up a folder and ALL my emails were GONE. For the next five minutes I panicked, opening folder after folder as though the emails might sense my distress and reappear. Finally I came across my Trash folder, which to my shock (and great relief) contained 3300 emails...everything that was missing. Then I looked at the deleted date, and that's when my relief turned to anger. They were deleted at 2 am on 7/1, the Saturday before, when I was not even remotely near the office. It seems that our brilliant IT department had decided to run some kind of cleanup over the weekend, with no prior warning, that deleted every email over a month old. WTF?? So I angrily spent over an hour re-sorting my emails back into their folders. I managed to clean some old junk out along the way and ended up putting about 1800 emails back into the cabinet.
It didn't end there. First thing Monday morning, guess what...there were 1800 emails back in the Trash. Apparently whatever the IT department did is deleting the emails on a daily basis. I spent about 30 minutes dumping them back into the correct folders and then sent a complaint to the IT Helpline. This is sort of an email forum where you can ask a question and the IT people (supposedly) will get back to you. Well, by 4:45 today I hadn't heard a peep from them so I marched myself over to their office, where the last IT guy was just heading out for the day. I asked him about the lack of response and he brushed me off with an "Oh yeah, that's on my list to come talk to you tomorrow. " Nice. So once again I spent 30 minutes sorting my email, knowing full well that they'll be back in the Trash tomorrow, because I'm terrified of what will happen if I leave them there overnight. I really don't have time for this crap. Thanks for nothing, IT jerks.
--Projects I'm currently working on / tasks to complete
--Old projects that I use for reference
--Office information, in case I need to look up where Joe Smith sits or what codes to bill on my timesheet
Suffice it to say that I have a lot of extremely important information in there. So you can imagine how I almost keeled over in my chair when on Friday I opened up a folder and ALL my emails were GONE. For the next five minutes I panicked, opening folder after folder as though the emails might sense my distress and reappear. Finally I came across my Trash folder, which to my shock (and great relief) contained 3300 emails...everything that was missing. Then I looked at the deleted date, and that's when my relief turned to anger. They were deleted at 2 am on 7/1, the Saturday before, when I was not even remotely near the office. It seems that our brilliant IT department had decided to run some kind of cleanup over the weekend, with no prior warning, that deleted every email over a month old. WTF?? So I angrily spent over an hour re-sorting my emails back into their folders. I managed to clean some old junk out along the way and ended up putting about 1800 emails back into the cabinet.
It didn't end there. First thing Monday morning, guess what...there were 1800 emails back in the Trash. Apparently whatever the IT department did is deleting the emails on a daily basis. I spent about 30 minutes dumping them back into the correct folders and then sent a complaint to the IT Helpline. This is sort of an email forum where you can ask a question and the IT people (supposedly) will get back to you. Well, by 4:45 today I hadn't heard a peep from them so I marched myself over to their office, where the last IT guy was just heading out for the day. I asked him about the lack of response and he brushed me off with an "Oh yeah, that's on my list to come talk to you tomorrow. " Nice. So once again I spent 30 minutes sorting my email, knowing full well that they'll be back in the Trash tomorrow, because I'm terrified of what will happen if I leave them there overnight. I really don't have time for this crap. Thanks for nothing, IT jerks.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Car Trouble
If I believed in curses, I would say my car is cursed.
My car was in great condition. Yes, there were a few minor issues with it, but overall the maintenence expenses for it were minimal. Then, in December, I purchased the car from my parents and the following things happened:
1) Chip in my windshield - $40
2) Computer diagnostic and "Check Engine" light repair - $60
3) New tires & alignment - $357
4) Water pump, timing belt, gaskets, temperature gauge & labor to fix oil leak & install parts - $652
5) Consultation & oil change to combat leakage - $38
Now you will probably notice that this adds up to more than $1000. Keep that in mind while I list the other things that I have not yet paid for, or committed to paying for:
6) New headlight bulb
7) Tune-up
8) Bulb replacement in console
9) Repair of weird interior light problem
10) Fuel gauge repair
I'll be getting the headlight bulb, but the others will have to wait until a few more paychecks roll in. In fact, some of them might not get fixed at all because they aren't worth the expense. But why the hell is my car suddenly falling apart right after I buy it? I keep a log of maintenence, I take it in when it is required, and I don't crash it into stuff. And yet it seems to be slowly falling apart.
This is so not fair.
My car was in great condition. Yes, there were a few minor issues with it, but overall the maintenence expenses for it were minimal. Then, in December, I purchased the car from my parents and the following things happened:
1) Chip in my windshield - $40
2) Computer diagnostic and "Check Engine" light repair - $60
3) New tires & alignment - $357
4) Water pump, timing belt, gaskets, temperature gauge & labor to fix oil leak & install parts - $652
5) Consultation & oil change to combat leakage - $38
Now you will probably notice that this adds up to more than $1000. Keep that in mind while I list the other things that I have not yet paid for, or committed to paying for:
6) New headlight bulb
7) Tune-up
8) Bulb replacement in console
9) Repair of weird interior light problem
10) Fuel gauge repair
I'll be getting the headlight bulb, but the others will have to wait until a few more paychecks roll in. In fact, some of them might not get fixed at all because they aren't worth the expense. But why the hell is my car suddenly falling apart right after I buy it? I keep a log of maintenence, I take it in when it is required, and I don't crash it into stuff. And yet it seems to be slowly falling apart.
This is so not fair.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
friends don't aggravate friend's allergies on purpose
ok. once upon a time when i was 18, my allergies finally showed up, thanks to the hayman fire out here in colorado. since then, i have been having progressively worse problems with smoke. and not just cigarette smoke, but all kinds. grill fires (which my dad frequently has), woodburning fires, even burning oil in smoke machines and the little aromatherapy thingies. whatever. i started on a regimen of two allergy medications, so that when i had to put out a grill fire, i could without coughing up a lung and my sinuses sealing themselves tighter than gladware. no problem.
well, my last month abroad, after moderate suffering with every european out there smoking, my "friend" came out to visit me. needles to say, we were sleeping in the same room the whole time, mostly my dorm room. said friend has a nicotine addiction, which i made absolutely clear COULD NOT, under any circumstance, be indulged anywhere near me, or my room, and she was not allowed to smell like it, because the smell makes me want to hurl.
unfortunately, smoking also seems to be closely linked to lying. oh no, she said, i only smoke one every other day or so.
THEN HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN THE FOUR CIGARETTES YOU HAD EVERY FUCKING DAY WE WERE IN PARIS??? every day period, the stupid cow. she made the rest of that trip miserable, but unfortunately, that's going to be a chapter or six in my memoir. she also reasoned that since i take medication, i shouldn't havea problem with her smoking. she has also told me taht i don't actually have this allergy, and that i just don't like the smell.
anywho, i came back home and went to the doctor, because i had been sick the last week with a nasty cough, and it was still around. my doctor, who has been listening rather closely to my lungs for the past year or so, expressed that something had happened. she knew that europeans smoked, but asked if there had been anything in particular that could have caused a problem. 'why yes!' said i.
well. long story short. now it seems that instead of smoke-induced allergies, there's a strong probability that i have smoked-induced asthma, which she has been worried about for the past year, and that one month of stress and smoke finally pushed me over the edge. she's giving me 6 months, but if i still have a wheeze (which i do), i get to have an asthma test of some kind to just solidify what the doctor feels she knows.
excuse me for being pissed, but i was born healthy and with good, strong lungs, and now, thanks to careless "friend," i don't anymore. i know, i can't blame just her, but let's face it. no european spent a month solid blowing smoke in my face.
so if you smoke, and one of your friends says they're allergic, learn from this. we don't make it up for shits and giggles. thank god coloradois going smoke-free in public places july 1. at least some people in the government realize that killing oneself with cancer shouldn't mean killing others with it too.
well, my last month abroad, after moderate suffering with every european out there smoking, my "friend" came out to visit me. needles to say, we were sleeping in the same room the whole time, mostly my dorm room. said friend has a nicotine addiction, which i made absolutely clear COULD NOT, under any circumstance, be indulged anywhere near me, or my room, and she was not allowed to smell like it, because the smell makes me want to hurl.
unfortunately, smoking also seems to be closely linked to lying. oh no, she said, i only smoke one every other day or so.
THEN HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN THE FOUR CIGARETTES YOU HAD EVERY FUCKING DAY WE WERE IN PARIS??? every day period, the stupid cow. she made the rest of that trip miserable, but unfortunately, that's going to be a chapter or six in my memoir. she also reasoned that since i take medication, i shouldn't havea problem with her smoking. she has also told me taht i don't actually have this allergy, and that i just don't like the smell.
anywho, i came back home and went to the doctor, because i had been sick the last week with a nasty cough, and it was still around. my doctor, who has been listening rather closely to my lungs for the past year or so, expressed that something had happened. she knew that europeans smoked, but asked if there had been anything in particular that could have caused a problem. 'why yes!' said i.
well. long story short. now it seems that instead of smoke-induced allergies, there's a strong probability that i have smoked-induced asthma, which she has been worried about for the past year, and that one month of stress and smoke finally pushed me over the edge. she's giving me 6 months, but if i still have a wheeze (which i do), i get to have an asthma test of some kind to just solidify what the doctor feels she knows.
excuse me for being pissed, but i was born healthy and with good, strong lungs, and now, thanks to careless "friend," i don't anymore. i know, i can't blame just her, but let's face it. no european spent a month solid blowing smoke in my face.
so if you smoke, and one of your friends says they're allergic, learn from this. we don't make it up for shits and giggles. thank god coloradois going smoke-free in public places july 1. at least some people in the government realize that killing oneself with cancer shouldn't mean killing others with it too.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Waste Your Time at PepsiSmash.com!!
1 in 3 wins, my ass. I just entered 14 illegible codes from Mountain Dew caps, and sacrificed my personal information to corporate America, and I didn't even get a single fucking ringtone.
I better win a fucking RAZR, PEBL, BLWJB, or whatever the fuck else they are giving away.
I better win a fucking RAZR, PEBL, BLWJB, or whatever the fuck else they are giving away.
Some Parents Suck At Life (Part 1)
I am a day camp counselor. For the past three weeks I have spent a considerable amount of time studying my campers and the people who raised them. Here are just a few of the things I have noticed about some of the parents that really piss me off.
The Schedule:
At the beginning of every session, we pass out a schedule that lists the activities we have planned for each day of the week, along with a rough estimate of what time each activity will occur. Most days we manage to stick pretty close to the schedule, but sometimes things happen that cause us to deviate slightly. Sometimes the weather is a factor, sometimes there are problems with the bus, or sometimes we were unable to obtain the materials needed for a given activity. Whenever this occurs, we always make do by substituting a different activity. The kids never seem to really notice when this happens, because most of them don't care what they do, as long as it isn't school.
The parents, on the other hand, have heart attacks when little Billy comes home and says that he ate popsicles that day instead of watermelon. Or that he played whiffle ball instead of Red Rover. Seriously, who gives a shit? Is little Billy's life forever altered because he didn't ingest those few chunks of watermelon? No. Now, I would understand if on the schedule it said "Nature Hike," but we ended up taking them to the adult bookstore instead, but there is no need to nitpick about stupid shit like whether Susie came home with a popsicle stick picture frame or a macaroni necklace. I honestly think that if Susie came home and said that at 11:00 a.m. the counselors took turns beating her with a stick, her parents would yell at us, because the schedule clearly states that the beating should have been at 10:30 a.m., and with tire irons.
Drop-Off & Pick-Up
These same parents who bitch about the schedule seem to have a major problem sticking to it. It clearly states that drop-off is at 8:00 a.m. The kids usually get to play in the park for a while before we board the bus for camp, so it isn't a big deal if the parents come around 8:05 a.m. or so instead. The counselors are supposed to arrive at the Rec Center at 7:30 a.m., which gives us time to discuss the day's activities and make sure we have everything we need. We aren't expected to head over to the park until about 7:50 a.m. or so. And yet, every day when I pull into the Rec, there are already parents waiting at the park. One kid even got there as early as 7:15 a.m. once. Then when we get over to the park, the parents bitch about us being late. WE are not late. YOU are way too fucking early. I'm sorry if you are that eager to unload your brat on us, but we aren't quite as excited about it as you are.
As if the early drop-off isn't bad enough, these same parents who force their children on us 30 minutes before they are supposed to can't seem to work that same magic in the afternoon. Pick-up is supposed to be no later than 3:00 p.m. And yet every day at 3:08 p.m., there is always at least one kid sitting there waiting. How great is that for a child's self-esteem?
"I love you, but not enough to pick you up on time so you don't feel like a loser."
Also, some kids start worrying that something terrible has happened to their mom or dad. Then the parent shows up and says something like "Sorry, I was too busy scratching my ass to look at the clock."
There are also the ones that are just too damn lazy to even get out of the car. Some probably wouldn't even stop the car if they didn't have to sign the sign-out sheet.
"Okay Billy, Mommy has to get to Yoga class! Come jump in the window! No...run faster...no, I can't slow down...that's it...okay jump...ouch, that looks like it hurt...oh well I can't turn around. Just spend the night here. That way I don't have to drop you back off in the morning."
Idiots.
Stay tuned for my next post: "Lunches: And you wonder why your kid is fat."
The Schedule:
At the beginning of every session, we pass out a schedule that lists the activities we have planned for each day of the week, along with a rough estimate of what time each activity will occur. Most days we manage to stick pretty close to the schedule, but sometimes things happen that cause us to deviate slightly. Sometimes the weather is a factor, sometimes there are problems with the bus, or sometimes we were unable to obtain the materials needed for a given activity. Whenever this occurs, we always make do by substituting a different activity. The kids never seem to really notice when this happens, because most of them don't care what they do, as long as it isn't school.
The parents, on the other hand, have heart attacks when little Billy comes home and says that he ate popsicles that day instead of watermelon. Or that he played whiffle ball instead of Red Rover. Seriously, who gives a shit? Is little Billy's life forever altered because he didn't ingest those few chunks of watermelon? No. Now, I would understand if on the schedule it said "Nature Hike," but we ended up taking them to the adult bookstore instead, but there is no need to nitpick about stupid shit like whether Susie came home with a popsicle stick picture frame or a macaroni necklace. I honestly think that if Susie came home and said that at 11:00 a.m. the counselors took turns beating her with a stick, her parents would yell at us, because the schedule clearly states that the beating should have been at 10:30 a.m., and with tire irons.
Drop-Off & Pick-Up
These same parents who bitch about the schedule seem to have a major problem sticking to it. It clearly states that drop-off is at 8:00 a.m. The kids usually get to play in the park for a while before we board the bus for camp, so it isn't a big deal if the parents come around 8:05 a.m. or so instead. The counselors are supposed to arrive at the Rec Center at 7:30 a.m., which gives us time to discuss the day's activities and make sure we have everything we need. We aren't expected to head over to the park until about 7:50 a.m. or so. And yet, every day when I pull into the Rec, there are already parents waiting at the park. One kid even got there as early as 7:15 a.m. once. Then when we get over to the park, the parents bitch about us being late. WE are not late. YOU are way too fucking early. I'm sorry if you are that eager to unload your brat on us, but we aren't quite as excited about it as you are.
As if the early drop-off isn't bad enough, these same parents who force their children on us 30 minutes before they are supposed to can't seem to work that same magic in the afternoon. Pick-up is supposed to be no later than 3:00 p.m. And yet every day at 3:08 p.m., there is always at least one kid sitting there waiting. How great is that for a child's self-esteem?
"I love you, but not enough to pick you up on time so you don't feel like a loser."
Also, some kids start worrying that something terrible has happened to their mom or dad. Then the parent shows up and says something like "Sorry, I was too busy scratching my ass to look at the clock."
There are also the ones that are just too damn lazy to even get out of the car. Some probably wouldn't even stop the car if they didn't have to sign the sign-out sheet.
"Okay Billy, Mommy has to get to Yoga class! Come jump in the window! No...run faster...no, I can't slow down...that's it...okay jump...ouch, that looks like it hurt...oh well I can't turn around. Just spend the night here. That way I don't have to drop you back off in the morning."
Idiots.
Stay tuned for my next post: "Lunches: And you wonder why your kid is fat."
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Redneck Bullshit
This ties in with a post I made in my personal blog regarding bumper stickers. I'd like to hone in on a particular subset of stickers. I see them everywhere. Rebel this, Redneck that, Confederate blah blah. Let me reiterate what I've said before: heritage is one thing, but divisive bullshit is quite another.
I saw a sticker in a Georgia gas station that said "No Flag Had Better or Braver Soldiers" with a Confederate Stars and Bars flag to the left. Really? No flag? How about this one:
Another sticker said "If at first you don't secede, try try again." Let me lay it out for you: The South will NOT rise again. It never rose in the first place. Without the genius idea to go steal people from another continent to work for free on your farms, you wouldn't have enjoyed the economic success that you did. Mind you, if my employer stopped paying me, they would soon become the premier office supply store in the area. It's amazing what no labor costs do to gross margin.
Check out these gems.
So now the North was a terrorist force? This coming from the home land of a group that burns crosses in black people's yard for what purpose? They probably aren't inviting them outside for Jesus-infused wieners and smores.
Enough said.
If you can't read that, it says "I salute the Confederate Flag with Affection, Reverence, and Undying Devotion to the Cause for which it Stands." And what cause is that, pray tell? You should be more concerned with "I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same." That's what every naturalized citizen and soldier swears. If you were born here, chances are, you probably haven't heard it. Still applies to you though, assholes. "Rising again" would be an act of treason, as set forth in our Constitution. Let me paste the important part for you in case all the big words at the top confuse your simple Southern brain: "Article 3. Section 3. Treason against the United States, shall consist only in levying war against them, or in adhering to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort." Think it over, you stupid dickweeds.
There are plenty of other mind-boggling examples of what traitors these Confederate loyalists are. I did find one sticker that I agreed with.
I saw a sticker in a Georgia gas station that said "No Flag Had Better or Braver Soldiers" with a Confederate Stars and Bars flag to the left. Really? No flag? How about this one:
Another sticker said "If at first you don't secede, try try again." Let me lay it out for you: The South will NOT rise again. It never rose in the first place. Without the genius idea to go steal people from another continent to work for free on your farms, you wouldn't have enjoyed the economic success that you did. Mind you, if my employer stopped paying me, they would soon become the premier office supply store in the area. It's amazing what no labor costs do to gross margin.
Check out these gems.
So now the North was a terrorist force? This coming from the home land of a group that burns crosses in black people's yard for what purpose? They probably aren't inviting them outside for Jesus-infused wieners and smores.
Enough said.
If you can't read that, it says "I salute the Confederate Flag with Affection, Reverence, and Undying Devotion to the Cause for which it Stands." And what cause is that, pray tell? You should be more concerned with "I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same." That's what every naturalized citizen and soldier swears. If you were born here, chances are, you probably haven't heard it. Still applies to you though, assholes. "Rising again" would be an act of treason, as set forth in our Constitution. Let me paste the important part for you in case all the big words at the top confuse your simple Southern brain: "Article 3. Section 3. Treason against the United States, shall consist only in levying war against them, or in adhering to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort." Think it over, you stupid dickweeds.
There are plenty of other mind-boggling examples of what traitors these Confederate loyalists are. I did find one sticker that I agreed with.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Doosh O'Nomix
If my teacher were Irish, that would be his name. Macroeconomics is going to suck hardcore this year on account of my teacher being a pompous jerk with no idea that he isn't funny.
He spent a whole fucking hour explaining the syllabus. That would be fine if there were any mind boggling parts to it that required more than a 3rd grade reading level and a reasonably moderate understanding of how one receives an education.
Before he started covering the syllabus, he defined economics as "the management of scarce resources." Remember this, it will come in handy later.
Turn off your cell phones because it's respectful of your classmates. Don't sleep, because it's respectful to me. Don't do sudoku puzzles, because blah blah blah. As we relearned the concepts of the 10 point grading scale, plagiarism, and extra credit, we neared a contradiction. My teacher probably hadn't thought it through, and he had no idea he was going to be called out on it. The long list of unexcused absence examples included the following note: "Claiming to be sick but 'unable to afford to go to the doctor' is not an acceptable excuse."
I raised my hand, and the dialogue proceeded as follows:
Me: Is this your attendance policy or the school's?
Douchewad: Mine.
Me: I just wanted to clarify something, my only two options are 'pay the doctor $55 for a note that says I have the sniffles' or 'come here sick'?
DW: Yes.
Me: My scarce monetary resources prohibit me from making such an unnecessary trip to the doctor when I can easily treat it with a day of rest or over the counter drugs. Am I supposed to come to class at the expense of disrespecting my classmates by exposing them to my illness?
DW: No one said life was full of easy choices.
Me: No, but in a class that began with a description of scarce resources, I would think you would be sympathetic given the exorbitant cost of health care. Even still, not every sickness that keeps one out of the classroom is serious enough to merit even a copay.
DW: Look, I'm sure you're a trustworthy guy, but that's my policy.
Let me break that last line down for you: I have no logic, ergo I'm ending the conversation.
Add this upfront faux pas to his over-animated hand gestures, wacky facial expressions, and witless attempts at humor, and you've got one long fucking semester looking at you. I mean me. Shit.
He spent a whole fucking hour explaining the syllabus. That would be fine if there were any mind boggling parts to it that required more than a 3rd grade reading level and a reasonably moderate understanding of how one receives an education.
Before he started covering the syllabus, he defined economics as "the management of scarce resources." Remember this, it will come in handy later.
Turn off your cell phones because it's respectful of your classmates. Don't sleep, because it's respectful to me. Don't do sudoku puzzles, because blah blah blah. As we relearned the concepts of the 10 point grading scale, plagiarism, and extra credit, we neared a contradiction. My teacher probably hadn't thought it through, and he had no idea he was going to be called out on it. The long list of unexcused absence examples included the following note: "Claiming to be sick but 'unable to afford to go to the doctor' is not an acceptable excuse."
I raised my hand, and the dialogue proceeded as follows:
Me: Is this your attendance policy or the school's?
Douchewad: Mine.
Me: I just wanted to clarify something, my only two options are 'pay the doctor $55 for a note that says I have the sniffles' or 'come here sick'?
DW: Yes.
Me: My scarce monetary resources prohibit me from making such an unnecessary trip to the doctor when I can easily treat it with a day of rest or over the counter drugs. Am I supposed to come to class at the expense of disrespecting my classmates by exposing them to my illness?
DW: No one said life was full of easy choices.
Me: No, but in a class that began with a description of scarce resources, I would think you would be sympathetic given the exorbitant cost of health care. Even still, not every sickness that keeps one out of the classroom is serious enough to merit even a copay.
DW: Look, I'm sure you're a trustworthy guy, but that's my policy.
Let me break that last line down for you: I have no logic, ergo I'm ending the conversation.
Add this upfront faux pas to his over-animated hand gestures, wacky facial expressions, and witless attempts at humor, and you've got one long fucking semester looking at you. I mean me. Shit.
Friday, May 19, 2006
Useless Website: Update
Original Post
I got a response today.
Well, Wes Malquist, that would have been a perfectly good solution had your website not prohibited me from doing anything WITHOUT a promo code.
I hate you and your shitty website. You also have a douchy name.
I got a response today.
Dear Corey,
Thank you for voicing your concerns. And thank you for doing so with such beautiful words! To answer your question, the promo code does not go into effect until the movie goes into theaters. Once the movie is in theaters you can use the promo code, but before that time you can actually leave the promo code blank and just type in your zip code to find participating theaters in your area. Sorry for any confusion. I hope that answers your question. We apologize for not being able to get back to you sooner. Have a great day!
Sincerely,
Wes Malquist
Well, Wes Malquist, that would have been a perfectly good solution had your website not prohibited me from doing anything WITHOUT a promo code.
I hate you and your shitty website. You also have a douchy name.
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