Thursday, November 10, 2011
Prisster Parents
The only thing I hate more than Hipster parents is PRISSter parents. You know who you are...naming your daughters after dead white presidents, monogramming the shit out of everything, torching it to Don't Stop Believing at weddings while your husband nails the junior bridesmaid in the portajohn. I just got the shit treatment at one of those fancy kiddie boutiques that sells bedazzled pillowcase dresses and Vera Bradley diaper bags. I brought my brood in there after a harried grocery trip--we were hunting soft shoes because there's no way I'm putting Nike's on my baby and fucking up their knees. The way that bitchy saleslady treated us, you'd think we'd crawled out from under a train trestle. I mean, sure, it had been a long day, and my sons aren't dressed like little faggots in gay-ass gingham jumpers, but I thought I could buy some overpriced shoes and call it a day. Hey, at least my house is paid for, bitch. You'll be living in a tent while some fools buy your McMansion for 100 grand.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Retail Retards
You guys have folks in your town that work in retail and shouldn't, because they fucking hate people? How in the fuck do they get away with it? How are they overlooked by their superiors? In a bad economy with online retail options closing box stores by the hundreds, shouldn't you hire some Ned Flanders ass-kisser that actually WANTS to be there? Or who, at the very least, puts on a good show? Here are some crappy people that make my day crappier.
1. The Dark Lord (aka, the dude who develops photos at Rite Aid): This guy wears a tie and an honest-t0-god fucking CAPE to develop your pictures at the neighborhood pharmacy. During his break he sometimes enjoys a pipe after his chugger of Mountain Dew (I seen him). He's easy to picture-- a whiff of a goatee, thinning hair pulled into a long ponytail, faded Dockers with a satin tie from the nineties, cheap shoes with white socks--you know, that kind of dude. He's sorta pudgy too, presumably from eating all that discounted Easter candy. I was once lucky enough to sit near his table when he was on a first date with a cougary gamer nerd and I overheard him order a Warsteiner in a fake-ass British accent. He was wearing an ascot..with jeans. I just KNOW this guy is taking people's photos and doing fucked up things with them, and I want to punch him in the face for the things I both suspect about him and the things I've actually witnessed.
2. Sour-faced TJ Maxx Dressing Room Attendant-This woman once visibly sniffed at me when I entered her work area and asked me what I did for a living. "You smell" she said"..like a food." Granted, I worked in a nasty-ass taco hut, but what the fuck it is to her? Just give me my number already and go pick your fucking nose. Bitch had the audacity to stick her little paw over the dressing room door and SPRAY me with Lysol. As in, she publicly fucking disinfected me. Maybe in Haiti or wherever the fuck she's from, it's cool to just bathe in a caustic chemical, but not here. I mean, DAMN!
2 months later I overhear her (same place--the Maxx) training some teenager about dressing room policies. She says, "That lady over there, she try on the clothe, she take back so many, and she only buy one". I was sifting through the bras and I saw her gesture in my direction. Like, am I fucking obligated to buy everything I try on? I don't care what their commercial says, you KNOW the Maxx has funky stuff that nobody fucking wants because it's all irregular and shit. I once found a pair of pantyhose in there with like, 3 fucking legs. Fuck that shit.
3. Sour-faced Party City Employee-Yes, that's right, guess who's blowing up fucking BIRTHDAY balloons for all the boys and girls? That's right, the lady who hates everyone, the damn TJ Maxx dressing room attendant. She had the nerve to give my kid the ol' eyeroll when it took him like, 2 fucking minutes to pick out his special birthday balloon. Then, she didn't even tie it to anything and it blew up in the damn rafters, and she just walked away. He started to cry (he was like, 2) and I had to go chase her fat ass down the aisle to get another one. It was his fucking BIRTHDAY for Chrissake! Isn't there a warehouse or something somewhere, where she can sit on her dimpled butt and silently sort screws into boxes? Sheesh.
4. Sour-faced Publix Deli Employee-I don't know what they pay her, or put in her potato salad, but this same lady is nice as shit at Publix. Here, she's my best buddy and has no memory of consistently providing shitty and/or insulting customer service at like, 4 other places. She's cracking jokes and flirting with construction workers and everything. You are practically GUARANTEED a smile with your sub or Boars Head turkey or whatever the fuck. I mean, good for Publix, I guess if anyone can tame the bitch, they can.
5. Old Man McGrumpy (at our local Target): I'm not going to pretend for one fucking second that working at the Target Deli when you are fifty is in ANY way awesome. However...please do not refer to my children as "abominations of God" when mopping up an unfortunate Icee spill. It's not like they hucked it at him, it merely tipped over in a brief but somewhat frenzied moment of sugar-anticipation before we got the lid on there good and tight. Geez Louise! I tried to help him and he jerked the rag away from me and sneered, "I got it" through his thin white lips. What even keeps these guys from strapping bombs to their chests in the middle of fucking Target? Probably the next episode of Stargate. Or maybe they have to be unmasked by Scooby Doo somewhere. Go sell that collection of media crap to a carbon-copy McGrumpy on ebay and retire.
6. Gas-Station Creepazoid-This guy feels up MY HAND when he gives me back change. The first time he did this I thought it was a mistake, but by the second and third time I got chills up my spine when his crusty fingers lingered gently over my palm. Fuck this! Not cool! I got him, though, I only give him exact change and I place it on the scanner area, or I use my debit even if it's a pack of gum. HaHA! I'm smarter than you, fucking creep. And I KNOW it's because I buy porno there. Just because I read 'Nugget', it doesn't mean I'm going to give you a free BJ by the dumpster. Shit!
EVERYONE Who Works For AT and T: Fuck ALL of these guys. When and if I go to hell, I'll be speaking to one of their many customer service representatives, in one of their many departments, for several of the many minutes in my busy day--only to be told it is fixed, and get many more bills reflecting many more charges. I logged 9 hours and 14 minutes trying to get my bill to reflect a contract I signed last year, to no avail.
The AT and T store was no help either, as those guys can't see your info when your billing is combined. What is the fucking point of bundling your services when the only guy who can see them is the Wizard of Fucking Oz? What works: Bring your little fellers in there, if you have any. Make sure they are ready for naps, maybe even a little hungry. Bill was fixed in under 15 minutes. Turn a cranky toddler loose in small retail environment and people start finding creative ways to appease the customer and get her the fuck out of there.
7. Dunkin Donuts Lady, 3rd Shift-Ah, Louise..90 years young, buttoned to the gills in a never-ending supply of pearl-pink cardigans with a frown that life chiseled into her face. Working every night from 11 pm to 5 am must suck when you are a great-grandmother. I wipe a tear in her memory..assuming she is dead, of course, she may have just finally retired. I don't think I'd retire if I worked for a boss that had no problems whatsoever with me THROWING DONUTS AT PEOPLE. !! Ok, ok, she's probably a nice old woman underneath it all, and she was left penniless by her husband, but gee, do you have to throw a bagel at me? With jelly on it? And if you're wondering if it's really ME that has an attitude problem, thus making sweet ladies turn sour and start throwing baked goods, I'll have you know I studied there every night during my undergrad and I saw her throw shit at people ALL THE TIME. So fuck you, and fuck her too. I started viewing her as some sort of challenge..shit, we all did. Like one day she'd get all grandmotherly because she was just testing us and we passed. Nope. She's just a bitch.
I got more, but my 3 month old is hollerin' for titty. Catch ya on the flipside, but tomorrow, when you are out in the world, running errands, buying lattes, make sure that people treat you with the respect you deserve. Our whole damn economy is wrapped up in haircuts and oil changes, and the only thing America is doing is staying busy providing shitty service to other Americans. So make nice, assholes, before you wind up like dumbassed Borders.
1. The Dark Lord (aka, the dude who develops photos at Rite Aid): This guy wears a tie and an honest-t0-god fucking CAPE to develop your pictures at the neighborhood pharmacy. During his break he sometimes enjoys a pipe after his chugger of Mountain Dew (I seen him). He's easy to picture-- a whiff of a goatee, thinning hair pulled into a long ponytail, faded Dockers with a satin tie from the nineties, cheap shoes with white socks--you know, that kind of dude. He's sorta pudgy too, presumably from eating all that discounted Easter candy. I was once lucky enough to sit near his table when he was on a first date with a cougary gamer nerd and I overheard him order a Warsteiner in a fake-ass British accent. He was wearing an ascot..with jeans. I just KNOW this guy is taking people's photos and doing fucked up things with them, and I want to punch him in the face for the things I both suspect about him and the things I've actually witnessed.
2. Sour-faced TJ Maxx Dressing Room Attendant-This woman once visibly sniffed at me when I entered her work area and asked me what I did for a living. "You smell" she said"..like a food." Granted, I worked in a nasty-ass taco hut, but what the fuck it is to her? Just give me my number already and go pick your fucking nose. Bitch had the audacity to stick her little paw over the dressing room door and SPRAY me with Lysol. As in, she publicly fucking disinfected me. Maybe in Haiti or wherever the fuck she's from, it's cool to just bathe in a caustic chemical, but not here. I mean, DAMN!
2 months later I overhear her (same place--the Maxx) training some teenager about dressing room policies. She says, "That lady over there, she try on the clothe, she take back so many, and she only buy one". I was sifting through the bras and I saw her gesture in my direction. Like, am I fucking obligated to buy everything I try on? I don't care what their commercial says, you KNOW the Maxx has funky stuff that nobody fucking wants because it's all irregular and shit. I once found a pair of pantyhose in there with like, 3 fucking legs. Fuck that shit.
3. Sour-faced Party City Employee-Yes, that's right, guess who's blowing up fucking BIRTHDAY balloons for all the boys and girls? That's right, the lady who hates everyone, the damn TJ Maxx dressing room attendant. She had the nerve to give my kid the ol' eyeroll when it took him like, 2 fucking minutes to pick out his special birthday balloon. Then, she didn't even tie it to anything and it blew up in the damn rafters, and she just walked away. He started to cry (he was like, 2) and I had to go chase her fat ass down the aisle to get another one. It was his fucking BIRTHDAY for Chrissake! Isn't there a warehouse or something somewhere, where she can sit on her dimpled butt and silently sort screws into boxes? Sheesh.
4. Sour-faced Publix Deli Employee-I don't know what they pay her, or put in her potato salad, but this same lady is nice as shit at Publix. Here, she's my best buddy and has no memory of consistently providing shitty and/or insulting customer service at like, 4 other places. She's cracking jokes and flirting with construction workers and everything. You are practically GUARANTEED a smile with your sub or Boars Head turkey or whatever the fuck. I mean, good for Publix, I guess if anyone can tame the bitch, they can.
5. Old Man McGrumpy (at our local Target): I'm not going to pretend for one fucking second that working at the Target Deli when you are fifty is in ANY way awesome. However...please do not refer to my children as "abominations of God" when mopping up an unfortunate Icee spill. It's not like they hucked it at him, it merely tipped over in a brief but somewhat frenzied moment of sugar-anticipation before we got the lid on there good and tight. Geez Louise! I tried to help him and he jerked the rag away from me and sneered, "I got it" through his thin white lips. What even keeps these guys from strapping bombs to their chests in the middle of fucking Target? Probably the next episode of Stargate. Or maybe they have to be unmasked by Scooby Doo somewhere. Go sell that collection of media crap to a carbon-copy McGrumpy on ebay and retire.
6. Gas-Station Creepazoid-This guy feels up MY HAND when he gives me back change. The first time he did this I thought it was a mistake, but by the second and third time I got chills up my spine when his crusty fingers lingered gently over my palm. Fuck this! Not cool! I got him, though, I only give him exact change and I place it on the scanner area, or I use my debit even if it's a pack of gum. HaHA! I'm smarter than you, fucking creep. And I KNOW it's because I buy porno there. Just because I read 'Nugget', it doesn't mean I'm going to give you a free BJ by the dumpster. Shit!
EVERYONE Who Works For AT and T: Fuck ALL of these guys. When and if I go to hell, I'll be speaking to one of their many customer service representatives, in one of their many departments, for several of the many minutes in my busy day--only to be told it is fixed, and get many more bills reflecting many more charges. I logged 9 hours and 14 minutes trying to get my bill to reflect a contract I signed last year, to no avail.
The AT and T store was no help either, as those guys can't see your info when your billing is combined. What is the fucking point of bundling your services when the only guy who can see them is the Wizard of Fucking Oz? What works: Bring your little fellers in there, if you have any. Make sure they are ready for naps, maybe even a little hungry. Bill was fixed in under 15 minutes. Turn a cranky toddler loose in small retail environment and people start finding creative ways to appease the customer and get her the fuck out of there.
7. Dunkin Donuts Lady, 3rd Shift-Ah, Louise..90 years young, buttoned to the gills in a never-ending supply of pearl-pink cardigans with a frown that life chiseled into her face. Working every night from 11 pm to 5 am must suck when you are a great-grandmother. I wipe a tear in her memory..assuming she is dead, of course, she may have just finally retired. I don't think I'd retire if I worked for a boss that had no problems whatsoever with me THROWING DONUTS AT PEOPLE. !! Ok, ok, she's probably a nice old woman underneath it all, and she was left penniless by her husband, but gee, do you have to throw a bagel at me? With jelly on it? And if you're wondering if it's really ME that has an attitude problem, thus making sweet ladies turn sour and start throwing baked goods, I'll have you know I studied there every night during my undergrad and I saw her throw shit at people ALL THE TIME. So fuck you, and fuck her too. I started viewing her as some sort of challenge..shit, we all did. Like one day she'd get all grandmotherly because she was just testing us and we passed. Nope. She's just a bitch.
I got more, but my 3 month old is hollerin' for titty. Catch ya on the flipside, but tomorrow, when you are out in the world, running errands, buying lattes, make sure that people treat you with the respect you deserve. Our whole damn economy is wrapped up in haircuts and oil changes, and the only thing America is doing is staying busy providing shitty service to other Americans. So make nice, assholes, before you wind up like dumbassed Borders.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Bakugans
I don't know what the hell these little evil balls are, but they are taking over the minds of my sons and are driving me up the fucking wall. They are tranformers, I guess, and you manipulate them into these little easy-to-misplace balls and wack 'em on a magnetic trading card and then they pop open into battle-ready critters. I have refereed 10 to 15 bakugan-related fights in the last four hours and have heard the word "bakugan" uttered at least 100 times since breakfast. This is the first time in my parenting that I have felt like a harried 4th grade teacher and am ready to seize these toys as contraband and lock 'em up until June. I was excited when my sons discovered them, mostly because I was able to sleep past 7 am because they were too busy wacking these damn balls around to come bug me for cereal. Now, I want my sons back.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Being poor
We're poor. Which is probably why I lashed out at hipster parents. They can afford to send their kids to an 8,000 dollar a year preschool and eat organic produce. I can't. I'm broke and in college. So is my husband. Here is my wish list for things I am going to buy when we grow up and get real jobs:
10. A vacation. A real one, not some bullshit overnight stay in a town 45 minutes away, or god forbid, fucking camping.
9. Shampoo. I have a wicker basket of little ones stolen from hotels, by other people, when they go on vacation.
8. Bra and underwear that match. Awesome. I will be sexy in my matching bra and underwear.
7. An above-ground pool. We're not gonna make real money, but we can get one of those 300 dollar deals from Wal-mart, for sure, and piss off our neighbors because it's such an eyesore.
6. A weekly pedicure. Because I deserve it, assholes!
5. Brunch.
4. Regular vet check-ups for our dog. That's what the middle class does for their dogs.
3. Paper towels.
2.Vodka in a glass bottle.
1. More lottery tickets.
Hipster Parents
If you see an undisciplined child running amok, wearing layered clothing that has clearly been hand-sewn by local artisans, chances are, you will find a hipster parent very close by. Too close, in fact, because everyone knows a good parent has to be three fucking inches away from their kid at all times. I mean, they might encounter something awful, like a smoker, or a Christian. Whether they are basking in pulsating rays of smugness or drinking fair-trade coffee, hipster parents are "on the scene" even if it's 10 am at the public library. These ecologically and socially conscious philosophers are raising an army of seemingly well-adjusted children who will grow up to hate their parents as much as we hated ours, they're just spending more time and money on the way. Don't ever compare yourself to a hipster parent! They have hybrid cars, use non-violent communication and lo-flow bathroom plumbing. Their children know how to recycle while yours are still hucking the Big Gulp cup out of the window of your 17-mile-to-the-gallon piece of shit that just failed emissions.
Where to find them: College towns, Transitional big-city neighborhoods, the Pacific-Northwest, Montessori schools
Where to find them in 10 years: NA, AA, The Unitarian Church, Match.com
Where to find them in 10 years: NA, AA, The Unitarian Church, Match.com
How to engage at a party: Ask them why they post MLK quotes on FB and voted for Obama but they don't want their kids going school with minorities. It's fun.
Warning: Will make you feel bad about taking your kids to the circus.
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