SHITTASTIC! part two...

part one is HERE...

i seem to be having some seriously bad luck with plumbing this year, NONE of it my fault.
no, really.

so The Matt and i have recently moved into Austin, away from the damn shotgun house with no damn doors, and into a nice and shiny 3 bedroom house WITH hallways and doors, thankyouverymuch!

it was great... for the first two weeks.
and then...
well, it's OUR house, so something had to be wrong with it, right?

it started as flooding when we took a shower in our master bath... "why is the entire floor covered in water?  hmm.  maybe i didn't close the shower curtain enough.  will fix next time!"

only next time?  yeah.  that resulted in MAJOR flooding, into our room - and onto the brand-new fucking carpet. because obviously, we can't have nice things, even if I'M not the cuprit, for once.

and then the toilet was flushed....
oh god.  we weren't getting an overflowing toilet... we were getting a backup of (thankfully clean) water from the UNDERSIDE of the toilet.  what the holy fuck?
we called the realty company.

turns out?  foundation is all kinds of fucked up, and so is our plumbing.

suffice to say, ever since the last week of january, we've had the door to our master bath firmly shut?  why, you say?  oh, no reason...

well.  maybe there's a reason.

the realty plumbers came within 24 hours, and after yanking up the toilet and realizing there was a REALLY BIG PROBLEM, they contacted the landlord, who said "okay, we'll have the foundation guy come back, he's still under contract."

and, we waited.  and waited.  meanwhile...

this.  they left an OPEN SEWER PIPE in our house... in our fucking bedroom.
...for two months.

yes, really.
we had no contact information for the landlord, so when the foundation guy failed to show, for weeks running, we could only contact the realty guy who was SUPPOSED to be fixing it...
no dice.

so it stayed like this.  and the door stayed firmly shut, because...

well, suffice to say that the bathroom smells like musty asshole, and the only thing good enough to combat it is the MOST AWESOME scented candle someone gave me as a housewarming gift.

funny enough, we found out a few weeks ago that we had a NEW realty rep dude, one who *apparently* had NO IDEA about the shitstorm situation we had in the house.

we raised a motherfucking fuss, lemme tell you.  and dude (finally.  FINALLY!) got some shit done.  eventually.  after another two weeks, the foundation guy showed up at the house, and right now they're underneath the house, banging around.

the original plumbers left this shitwater mess on our carpet, and the realty company will be getting that steam cleaned, you BETTER believe it.

i'd be more pissed about this situation, except we got a whole months' rent for free, and i also get to imagine that every time i flush the toilet, it might just leak on that motherfucking foundation guy's head.  because fuck knows, half our plumbing is backed up in the house, and there IS a leak somewhere...

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???

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
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."
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..... 

ARRGGHHGHGHGHMOTHERFUCKINGCOCKSUCKERTWATFACEJESUSASSMUNCHINGCHRISTONACRACKER
IHATETHISFUCKINGJOB!!!!!

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?

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.

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:

Ms. Snark FOUND ME A SATAN-BEAR.
i'm... officially in love.

and, just in case that wasn't enough?

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

blame Tazer

she started it.

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

barrel bowler:

obviously.

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...

fuzznuckle:

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

glomstick:

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

secure pants:

THIS IS THE OPPOSITE OF EVERYTHING THAT IS SECURE ABOUT PANTS JESUS

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

the Bitch is Back!

oh fuck, the things i've done in the past month.  things i never thought i'd do.....

it started when i said, "sure, i'll come live with you for a month, after you have surgery, and help take care of your kids..."

yes, folks.  imagine me, Satan, in charge of little Spawn.

suffice to say i have now successfully influenced the entire household in matters of drugs, piracy, and other awesome things.

yep.  such a good influence.

The Matt was a good sport about all this - a good thing, too, since he was stuck in NOLA alone working a temp job.  naturally, since it involved a uniform i asked for pictures....
when he asked what kind, i said, "you know, the cheesy porn kind."

evidently, he could have a great career in being a cheesy porn star.
i fully support this... do you know how much money those dudes make??!?!

in other news, we're moving to Austin TX, bitches!  we've got a week to pack up an entire house, and so far, this is all we've got...



i know.  we're completely fucked.  it's cool though, i'm sure we'll get to it sometime...



the cat has realized she's gonna be briefly homeless again, and has taken to pouting in one of the moving boxes.  the Poor Bastard Punk doesn't realize what he's in for yet...  i do NOT look forward to having him yowling at me in a car for hours.  no, i do not.

but he was happy to have me home, at least...

and bitches, am i glad to be home!  for a whole 7 days, that is.

now if only we can find a house to rent in Austin....
anyone know a good place?  cuz i really don't want to have to live in a moving van with two pissed-off cats...

Fuggs.

it has come to my attention that some spambots have REALLY wanted to tell me ALLL about Fuggs, lately.  i've had like 27 spam comments from them, & it's ridiculous.

first off, y'all?  i have some.
they look like this:

except for mine look like they've been chewed by a bear, or something.
they came to me dirty, to be fair.  but then i managed to vomit on them the other day (due to food poisoning rather than drinking, which is a SHAME) and then all was lost.  they now probably look like they belong to a homeless person.

to say it mildly, they're NOT a fashion statement.  no.
what they ARE = warm fuzzy houseshoes to wear out of your house, when it's winter and your toes are cold.
cute?  hell no.  but at least they're better than the last incarnation i was using, which looks like this:

Matt might break up with me for this picture.
you may blame my dad for buying me the fuzzy boots.

and secondly, spammers?  i don't want to pimp your Fuggs either.  i don't wanna buy any from you, and i'm CERTAINLY not about to give you free advertisement on mah blog.
NO FUGGS FOR YOU!!!

ahem.
i am ashamed, but i heart my Fuggs. i'm wearing them right now.

cuz let's be honest with ourselves -big fuzzy boots are almost NEVER a fashion statement.

unless some hoity toity designer makes them or something, and they're a million dollars.

but that doesn't mean we can't loll around in our Fuggs like the houseshoes they are.
carry on.

i dub thee Minions!

i got an award the other day - woo!  i like awards.  shower me with praise!

ahem.  anyway, i'm passing this one along - i just asked who wanted it, and voila!  people came out of the woodwork.  ^_^

@thedeaconblue :   his blog is Holy S!+t
of course you can tell why i like him.  bwahahahaha.

@RubberChickenMa  who writes Rubber Chicken Madness.  
and who doesn't like some rubber chickens?  nobody, that's who.

next is @forever_trust who writes Our Transplant Journey.
she writes about everything!

@crystalpratt is a sloth at House of Sloth. 
how cool are sloths?  way cool.  go get your sloth on!

@blogginglily posts on Just a Lil Blog
he has hilarious beard pictures.  beards are the shit.

all right y'all, come get your button - and pass it on!

don't be an asshole!

want to know why you shouldn't be an asshole?
because there are people out there in the world; people like me, who have absolutely ZERO shame.  ZERO.

the other night at yet another wedding gig i encountered a type that i've seen before, occasionally - the wedding crashers.
now, most wedding crashers are just hanging around near me to use the photo booth.  and most of them are reasonable - if told to go away, they go.  simple.
and sometimes, they're really nice, and they take nice pictures and tip you and offer to share their booze, and.... ahem.  

these guys?  not so nice.  they were incredibly drunk, and they were crashing someone's WEDDING.  in t-shirts, and jeans.  they were from Holland probably, which i deduced from the fact that they were speaking a language that was not German, Swedish, Finnish, Norwegian, French, etcetera.

they came through the photobooth at first, and i wasn't absolutely sure they weren't wedding guests (i have seen stranger things, after all), so i let them go.
then, i started asking the wedding guests:  do you know these guys?
no.  they definitely did NOT know those guys.

the wedding crashers disappeared for a while, but showed back up even drunker, carrying 40s, and trying to steal an entire 2-liter of diet coke, which is just tacky, okay?

they joined the back of the photobooth line.  i went over, and asked them to leave.
they obviously spoke and understood selective english - meaning they understood me just fine, but pretended not to.

as the two drunken assholes came out of the photobooth a second time (which i unfortunately wasn't able to prevent), the bride showed up, and asked me and them what the hell was going on here.
"i've been trying to get rid of them, but they speak selective english,"  i said to her.
"english?  we speak english,"  one of them said.
"really?  oh, great!  well, understand this.  this is HER wedding that you are crashing, which means this is a private event - which means you should split.  now."
they started leaving.
"and leave the damn diet coke!" shouted the bride after them.

now normally, i am not so much of an asshole that i post pics of people without permission, without a censor bar over their eyes.
but this time?  consider this just rewards, for being asshole wedding crashers.  take that, you fuckers!

kids, don't do this.  after all, you don't want your drunken pictures plastered all over the internet, now do you?

the ghosts of halloweens past...

in the past, i've been pretty... ahem... repetitive in my choice of halloween costumes.  i've mostly vacillated between vampire, devil, and black cat for YEARS.

this was one of the few exceptions...

and of course, there were all those years i went as a pirate... and i don't think those years are over just yet - i mean, look at that hat!!!

love the hat.  adore it, i say!!!

then there's the vampire getting out....  this was at a Vampire ball, so really, what else was i supposed to be?

i did go as a crazy lady in 2009.  as if that was much of a stretch...

Matt was a doucheboard skateboarder.  the cat was... well, i don't know.  psycho as usual?

and a pirate again...

then there was the time i went to the club as a harem girl...
do y'all have any idea how hard it is to get harem pants off when you're trying to pull them off over stripper shoes? yeah.

chomp!  (again...)

at least in this case, i was a specific vampire - Pam from True Blood.

The Matt was a gay cowboy.  he's surprisingly good at that.

 

 i thought about going as an alligator, but that didn't quite pan out.

THEN i got a GREAT idea for this year, but all our halloween plans fell through, soo...

this year i was kinda boring.  i stayed at home.  and i was a cat.

but i was a SPARKLY blue cat, so that counts as being somewhat creative...right?

next year, i have a fantastic idea - of course, i'm not giving it away.  all i'm saying is - it involves a LOT of lace.  a TON of lace.

and my friends will NEVER see it coming.  muahahahahaha!