Welcome to Hell

Welcome to hell. Please take a number. Her Evilness will be with you when she damn well feels like it.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

i haven't mentioned my new job yet. there's a REASON.

if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all???

oh, i slay myself, i really do.

i work full-time as a coffee barista, for a company (which shall remain nameless, since i am about to slander the SHIT out of them) who works FOR a large corporation (which shall also remain nameless so i don't get sued or whatever, but here's a hint:  "dude, you're getting a shitty computer!").

consequently, i work in a small cafe located in a big corporate maze.  i've never seen the rest of the building besides the cafeteria/cafe and the foodservice offices, but i'd imagine a good majority of the building looks like this:

in other words, purgatory.

yes, i knew the job involved daytime hours when i took it, and that i'd probably die with this new phenomenon of sunlight in my life.
and yes, i realized it meant i'd be sleeping from approximately 4am to 7:30 am, on a good night.
(and i don't care what the fuck people say.  no, i can't just "get adjusted" to daytime hours.  it's not possible.  i stay up late no matter how little sleep i've had - either that, or i go home, crash on the couch, sleep til midnight, THEN stay up til 5am...  it's not like i haven't tried, shitbags.  advice: you're doin it wrong.)

it's a coffee job.  things i expected:

getting covered in milk & coffee (and i mean covered, from glasses to shoes, because we are constantly slammed)
scalding myself daily
cranky customers who need their caffeine NOW
picky customers
overly caffeinated customers
being over caffeinated myself...  (which turns out, not so much.  hard to find time to make yourself a drink when you're doing the work of TWO people during a rush!  but more on that later...)

blah, blah, blah - it's a coffee job, i've been doing this for 7 years.  old potatoes.

here's what i did not expect:

write-ups when you clock in late.  write-ups when you clock OUT late.  as in, 5 minutes late.
evidently this company REALLY has its panties in a wad about write-ups.  i guess it's to document EVERYTHING, lest that 5 minutes you were late somehow gets linked to a crime somewhere, or something?
oh yeah - and after 10 "write-ups" for being late?  they fire you.  yeah.

it's like high school, only more nightmarish - because at least in high school, you expect that sort of stupidity.  in the real world, it just makes you want to regress, and stick tacks on someone's chair.

well, fuck you too!

the complete banning of jewelry (oh as IF i'm about to take out 9 piercings worth of jewelry every morning & put it back in every afternoon!  suck it.), which means i either
A).  get bitched at for having my piercings in,
B).  get ALL of my piercings infected, because i have to force the jewelry through if i leave it out all day, or
C). wear clear retainers.  which would be FINE, if i could just sleep in the fuckers.  but  no, they fall out.  so i STILL have the same damn problem. jewelry in, jewelry out (which leads to infection, which leads to anger, which leads to "fuck this, i'm leaving them in.").

(a short aside:  i heal piercings very, very badly.  as in, my body never stops trying to heal them.  i have holes i've had since i was seven, that would close up if i left jewelry out for too long.  all the newer ones have a much shorter shelf life.  15 minutes and my nose piercing would be GONE.)

you can take THIS out.

the banning of nail polish.
can i.... can i just say how much i love nail polish?

i love nail polish THAT MUCH.

yes.  the whole thing. is full. of nail polish.
it's one of the few "girly" things i do.  at any given point i'm usually wearing 10 - 20 + shades of fucking nail polish.

case in motherfucking point.

and now you're telling me i can't fucking use ANY OF IT monday through friday? cocktwat douchebags!  and don't tell me blahblahblah health code, whatever!!!  if it were really that important, don't you think you might have made me GET a health card or something?  but noooo...

strangely enough, this place could give two shits about all the tattoos i have, even the one on my finger, which is usually underneath a family ring i wear (see "gofuckyourself gun" picture up there, you'll see both).  considering they'll "write you up" for earrings or fingernail polish, this is so fucking backwards it's insane.

i haven't asked yet, but i'm pretty sure i'm FUCKED if i ever feel like doing this to my hair again.

hey, just in case all this rules&regulations fuckwittery wasn't enough, guess what!  we also get incompetent management!   wooo!

see, the big ass corporate has every employee get a security badge to enter the building & get through various doors.  cool.  no big deal.  the big deal was that it took me AN ENTIRE FUCKING MONTH to get one - because big corp's security said, "we don't have your info. it wasn't sent to us."  and then MY company said, "uh, we sent it like a week ago."
rinse and repeat.  for a month.  meanwhile, a repair guy sent to fix our coffee machine went and got a badge within a day.  literally.  (no, i didn't have smoke coming out of my ears or anything that day, as i went to the security office for the third time that week, why do you ask?)

and of course i'm sure that is ONLY THE BEGINNING to the management fuckery.  hell, i've been here a month.  there's plenty of time for even more ridiculous bullshit to develop.

this is how i feel after coming home from work every day!

and now!  and now.  we come to asshat coworker.  
one of my coworkers is fucking great.  she knows who she is.

the other....
well.  she's an older, heavier lady, and she evidently feels that once i get there, she doesn't have to do a goddamn thing.  she sits at the register and takes orders....

and i:  make the drip coffee, make all the lattes and espresso and cappuccinos and mochas and chai lattes, and run to the other end of the cafe (where she is, so she could easily snag me more, but NOOOO) for more ground drip coffee and more chai and soy milk and half & half to refill the pitchers out at the bar and clean all the dishes and rinse all the recycling and, and, and.... 

and then she YELLS AT ME if i get behind?  bitch, i got a line of ten drinks, and you're not helping at all.  brew some fucking coffee or something, don't whine at me about it!  
she also evidently thinks i'm an idiot.  "you just turn around while you're steaming or pulling shots & set up your coffee..."
no, dipshit!  that's how you fuck up your milk & let your shots sit and then have to redo shit.  and no, it's NOT okay to let orders go out wrong!  you can't give decaf people normal shots!  you don't fill the hopper with decaf if we're out of normal espresso because your dumb ass forgot to order it!  just..... 

bitch, i will sic my attack cat on you.  she's CRAYCRAY.  you can see it in her eyes.

hey y'all - want to see how long i can be driven batshit insane before i have a complete meltdown?

eventually i'm gonna lose it and tell this lady to suck my nonexistent dick.

...have i mentioned we don't get tips?

Friday, February 10, 2012

fun with stupid (or, the crack spider's bitch)

now this one, you can blame on Jaime.

hon, i just want you to know that i don't normally do this sort of stuff.  and NO, i'm not tagging anyone else to do it, although i will provide random questions you can answer in the comments, if you like.  please feel free to tag yourself.

upwards and onwards...

If you had the choice to know when you were going to die or not to know, what would you choose?
shit yes.  how will i die?  when will i die?  really?  awesome. 
then i know that doing this [insert really dumb thing here] is not gonna kill me... bottoms up!  anyone for some evil knievel style motorcycle riding?

What is the one food you could not live without eating ever again?
it starts off round, ends up in triangles, and it's messy.  and cheesy.  and ideally should be the best thing you've ever stuck in your mouth.
 in other words, pizza.

Where is the one place you most want to visit on the planet and why?
Scotland and Ireland, because my ancestors are from there.  Europe in general.  Canada.  i like to break rules.

How many times a day do you say a swear word?
HAHAHAHAHAhahahahaha i don't even have enough fingers & toes to count the number of times i swear per hour.
What is the most absurd phobia you have and why?
i am arachnophobic.  no, it's not funny to try & creep me out with spiders.  although this IS maybe the funniest thing i've ever seen. 

 If all A’s are B’s, Not B, therefore not A. How does this relate to the greatness of cheese?
i'll just start off by saying i HAD to take logic in college, and this is NOT a sound logic equation.  therefore your argument is invalid, no matter what.
by negating B, you negate A, which basically implodes a black hole in your brain, so you go eat a lot of cheese to try and force math out of your brain.  why?  because cheese is the best shit on the planet, and it might even be able to stop up that black hole.  also, math (and logic) problems can lick my balls.

If you could go back in time and undo one event, what would it be and why?
don't snort neurontin.  just don't. whatever you do.  A, because it won't do shit, or at least not anything fun.  B, because OH GOD IT BURNS IT BURNS OH JESUS FUCK MY SINUSES.
no, i have no excuse for why i did it, and this was in the last 2 months, which just proves that i am never going to grow up.  never.

A frat boy, a cougar and a priest all walk into a bar. Which do you make fun of first?
the priest.  he can't get laid.
no, wait, the frat boy.  he has his collar popped, and he should probably be kicked in the balls on general principle.  and it's also theoretically possible that the priest gets laid more than he does. 
the cougar is cool.  we can compare plots to ensnare hot young things.  but they must be at or above drinking age.

Fried or deep fried?
fried green tomatoes.
deep fried cajun turkey, motherfuckers.

and now, for some random questions of my own:

if you have 10 million books and not enough bookshelf space, what is the approximate velocity of a LADEN african swallow?

cake, or death?

if a writer works all fucking night long on a project that is essentially intellectual masturbation, when does that person actually masturbate?

how much nail polish is "too much nail polish?"

trick question.  there is no such fucking thing as too much nail polish.  or too many books.  or "too much beer." HA. 

you come to my house to hang out.  do you bring weed, scotch, or beer?  show your work.  correct answers will be provided given quantities of the thing(s) that you bring.

 please caption photograph.  obscenity encouraged.  kinkiness rewarded.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Singles Awareness Day

i have boycotted valentine's day for YEARS for general reasons, first and foremost being:  i fucking hate making a big deal of nothing.

and for most of those v-days, i was dating someone - but the only good valentines day i EVER remember having was in middle school, seventh grade - i had literally asked out a guy the night before at a party.
then next day, when i came home from school, he had stuck a heart box of truffles (my favorite, who KNOWS how he even knew) by the door.  granted, he lived 2 doors down, so this wasn't *quite* the most difficult thing ever.  but still!

and in all the many years after that, i can't remember a single valentines day that was memorable.

and then, i became single... and the boycott began in EARNEST.  i started wearing a "Singles Awareness Day" t-shirt.  yes, i was probably obnoxious.  no, i didn't mind that one bit!

and now, even though i've been in a relationship for a WHILE...
i still hate valentine's day.  i hate all the stupid crap that goes along with it.  i hate the expectations, the commercials, the stupid movies.... gaaahhhhhhhh.
i don't celebrate it at all.

but this year?  BRING IT.
because i pretty much have the BEST valentine ever, in the form of this:

i'm... officially in love.

and, just in case that wasn't enough?

those would be peanut butter cookies.
heart-shaped peanut butter cookies.
darlin, i will be your valentine ANY day!

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

blame Tazer

she started it.

and of course, i had to figure out how to out-dumb the master, soooooo...

barrel bowler:


dinosaur fries:

dinosaurs might be the worst cooks on the planet...
either that, or this is what their shit looks like after a bad night of fast food.

flying snickers:

close, google, but no snickers bar for you.

jello sportscoat:

evidently the Japanese do it, although i'm not quite sure how...


come to think of it, his knuckles probably are pretty bushy.


what you are, when you end up in this position, evidently.

secure pants:


yuff nuts:

because you'll "yuff" after you eat it?

now, i will apply a flamethrower to my brain, because one of these searches popped up a pic of a guy with a belly hanging past his knees, and BLARFFFFFFF