Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Shut up and do your job
Don't fucking tell me about Tivo. I know more about Tivo then you'll ever understand. I've invested more time and more emotional energy into understanding the ins and outs of Tivo then anyone I know. You have to start a show way more then two minutes into it to avoid commercials. Who the fuck do you think you are? Where do you get off trying to out Tivo expert me? Shut the hell up and go back to work. And never bring this subject up with me again. I'm a passionate passionate person who you don't want to argue with. And if you roll your eyes at me one more time I'll poke them out of their socket with a dirty plastic fork.
Dear Son of Bitch
Thank you so much for pulling your junky ass piece of shit truck piled high with crap in front of me this morning as I tried to enter the freeway. Thanks again for having the insight to make your entrance ahead of me at a thrilling 15 miles per fucking hour so that there is a 100% chance that the ass end of my car will soon be in the front of my car courtesy of a 18 wheeler doing speeds in excess of 70.
Due to my lack of sleep last night and my lengthy appointment today, I am thrilled that you had the grace to gift me with both adrenaline and the hate stronger than the heat of 10,000 suns all within a mile of my house and before my first cup of coffee.
Kudos to you fuck head.
Love,
Evil Bitch
Due to my lack of sleep last night and my lengthy appointment today, I am thrilled that you had the grace to gift me with both adrenaline and the hate stronger than the heat of 10,000 suns all within a mile of my house and before my first cup of coffee.
Kudos to you fuck head.
Love,
Evil Bitch
Stop the Madness!
Dear Everyone Who Has Had an Email Address, Ever:
Please stop forwarding me stupid shit.
Seriously.
I don't need to see another picture of a pumpkin throwing up.
I don't care why it sucks to be an egg.
I don't need the kind of stress in my life that it will take to forward your piece of trash to 12 people so I don't suffer unending bad luck.
I already know the differences between men and women.
I don't need your happy list of all the things that a "best friend" will do for you. You're not my best friend. A best friend will hold your hair while you vomit. Will you hold my hair? No? Then take your stupid email forward and shove it up your ass.
I don't want to read a cat's journal. I know cats are assholes. I have two of them.
I don't need to know about some car seat recall, I don't have kids.
I don't want a free laptop.
No, Bill Gates will not send you money if I forward this email.
I don't care why I shouldn't buy Ben & Jerry's ice cream. I know I shouldn't buy it. It makes my ass fat. That is enough reason not to. Of course, it is creamy and delicious, so I buy it anyway.
I don't care what you think about (insert ethnic minority here) and how they are taking all the jobs from the Americans. I know how you were hoping to get that job selling oranges out of a shopping cart at the intersection of Page and Union. Fucking immigrants! Bastards! Yeah.
I don't want to see pictures of naked, tattooed old ladies. I am a tattooed old lady. I can see that shit any time I want to.
I don't want to read another "ooooh, funny story for you!"
The next time I see the subject line "You'll like THIS one!" I'm deleting it without opening it.
Oh, and Asshole with Email, if you do have to forward me all this crap, at least have the decency to BCC me. Because when you don't, then every OTHER asshole on your distribution list can see my email. And they can "reply all" and send me more shit that I don't want. OR, they will send it to everyone on THEIR distribution list, and then my email is pasted on the top of that, and if I end up with a stalker because you don't know what the "BCC" is, I swear I will beat you until you are dead.
Thank you for listening.
Now forward this to everyone on your mailing list or you will have bad luck for the rest of the year!
Please stop forwarding me stupid shit.
Seriously.
I don't need to see another picture of a pumpkin throwing up.
I don't care why it sucks to be an egg.
I don't need the kind of stress in my life that it will take to forward your piece of trash to 12 people so I don't suffer unending bad luck.
I already know the differences between men and women.
I don't need your happy list of all the things that a "best friend" will do for you. You're not my best friend. A best friend will hold your hair while you vomit. Will you hold my hair? No? Then take your stupid email forward and shove it up your ass.
I don't want to read a cat's journal. I know cats are assholes. I have two of them.
I don't need to know about some car seat recall, I don't have kids.
I don't want a free laptop.
No, Bill Gates will not send you money if I forward this email.
I don't care why I shouldn't buy Ben & Jerry's ice cream. I know I shouldn't buy it. It makes my ass fat. That is enough reason not to. Of course, it is creamy and delicious, so I buy it anyway.
I don't care what you think about (insert ethnic minority here) and how they are taking all the jobs from the Americans. I know how you were hoping to get that job selling oranges out of a shopping cart at the intersection of Page and Union. Fucking immigrants! Bastards! Yeah.
I don't want to see pictures of naked, tattooed old ladies. I am a tattooed old lady. I can see that shit any time I want to.
I don't want to read another "ooooh, funny story for you!"
The next time I see the subject line "You'll like THIS one!" I'm deleting it without opening it.
Oh, and Asshole with Email, if you do have to forward me all this crap, at least have the decency to BCC me. Because when you don't, then every OTHER asshole on your distribution list can see my email. And they can "reply all" and send me more shit that I don't want. OR, they will send it to everyone on THEIR distribution list, and then my email is pasted on the top of that, and if I end up with a stalker because you don't know what the "BCC" is, I swear I will beat you until you are dead.
Thank you for listening.
Now forward this to everyone on your mailing list or you will have bad luck for the rest of the year!
Stop Asking Me
Stop asking me.
Stop asking me to tell you when I'm going to heat up my food so you can stalk me in the lunchroom.
Stop asking me at 9 am what I'm doing for lunch. I haven't even begun to digest my breakfast yet.
Stop asking me where I'm going for lunch.
Stop dropping by my cube (cell) every 20 minutes to "see what I'm doing". I still don't want to go to lunch with you.
How many times do I have to say no before you stop asking? Apparently 100 isn't enough. Please don't put me in the awkward position of telling you that I don't like you and I find you highly annoying. I'm at work, HR frowns on that sort of commentary. I don't like my job, but I'd like to keep getting a paycheck. Please stop, so I can cease having to hide from you at lunchtime.
Can't you just pick up my not-so-subtle hints? Like when you're talking and I walk away. Or when I just say, "uh-huh" in response to everything you say or tell you I'm busy, when you can clearly see I'm surfing the internet. Or when you come to my desk and I don't spin my chair around to look at you. Like when you say, "Come get me when you go on break" and I never do. If you didn't know before, I'm telling you now - this is what people do when they don't want to talk to you. Get a clue! You're a douche!
Stop asking me to tell you when I'm going to heat up my food so you can stalk me in the lunchroom.
Stop asking me at 9 am what I'm doing for lunch. I haven't even begun to digest my breakfast yet.
Stop asking me where I'm going for lunch.
Stop dropping by my cube (cell) every 20 minutes to "see what I'm doing". I still don't want to go to lunch with you.
How many times do I have to say no before you stop asking? Apparently 100 isn't enough. Please don't put me in the awkward position of telling you that I don't like you and I find you highly annoying. I'm at work, HR frowns on that sort of commentary. I don't like my job, but I'd like to keep getting a paycheck. Please stop, so I can cease having to hide from you at lunchtime.
Can't you just pick up my not-so-subtle hints? Like when you're talking and I walk away. Or when I just say, "uh-huh" in response to everything you say or tell you I'm busy, when you can clearly see I'm surfing the internet. Or when you come to my desk and I don't spin my chair around to look at you. Like when you say, "Come get me when you go on break" and I never do. If you didn't know before, I'm telling you now - this is what people do when they don't want to talk to you. Get a clue! You're a douche!
PM Kitchen Whores
Dear PM Kitchen whores~
Who the fuck do you think you are? Why do you prance in here every week during OUR CLASS TIME like you own the fucking universe??? I guess I have to remind you that not ONLY is this NOT your class time (you have your own, whore, use it) but that you CHOSE to be here. You can choose to leave just as easily and I so wish that you would.
You may act like you are far superior to us lowly daytime students, but here's the deal, princess, I have at least ten years on you and, guess what? You don't know shit. You know nothing about the real world or what its like to function within it. You know your mommy paying for your tuition and how to be a cunt. Thats it. Congratufuckinlations. You really nailed that last bit too. You should be very proud. The wolves that raised you should be proud as well.
It must have been a special day yesterday and all those other times you weren't around puking out your commands from on high, cause we got everything done, on time, WITHOUT YOU. Must have been A FUCKING MIRACLE.
So in summation, you nagging piece of trash, we will clean when we damn well get around to it. All of it will get done with or without your nasally demands and concocted time schedule.
And the next time you open your trap to tell us what to do and you are NOT sous chef (as you NEVER ARE in OUR class) I will remind you of such and then I will kindly ask you to never, ever stick your face in our kitchen during this time of day again.
Sincerely,
The lazy ass AM snatch
Who the fuck do you think you are? Why do you prance in here every week during OUR CLASS TIME like you own the fucking universe??? I guess I have to remind you that not ONLY is this NOT your class time (you have your own, whore, use it) but that you CHOSE to be here. You can choose to leave just as easily and I so wish that you would.
You may act like you are far superior to us lowly daytime students, but here's the deal, princess, I have at least ten years on you and, guess what? You don't know shit. You know nothing about the real world or what its like to function within it. You know your mommy paying for your tuition and how to be a cunt. Thats it. Congratufuckinlations. You really nailed that last bit too. You should be very proud. The wolves that raised you should be proud as well.
It must have been a special day yesterday and all those other times you weren't around puking out your commands from on high, cause we got everything done, on time, WITHOUT YOU. Must have been A FUCKING MIRACLE.
So in summation, you nagging piece of trash, we will clean when we damn well get around to it. All of it will get done with or without your nasally demands and concocted time schedule.
And the next time you open your trap to tell us what to do and you are NOT sous chef (as you NEVER ARE in OUR class) I will remind you of such and then I will kindly ask you to never, ever stick your face in our kitchen during this time of day again.
Sincerely,
The lazy ass AM snatch
Dear Mothers,
For fuck's sake, please stop dressing your daughters like prostitutes. Brittney Spears is not a role model. No one should aspire to dress like that skank, let alone let their children leave the house looking like her. There is NEVER a reason for your brat to leave the house in patent leather. EVER. I don't need to see her ass shake as she waddles down the hall to class. And I don't need to hear her peel her ass cheeks off the chair when she gets up to leave my class. Nor do I need to see her plastic thong as I watch her adjust her patent leather shirt masquerading as a dress before she shakes her goods down the hall one more time. If she's not a whore already, she's well on her way. The free advertising she's doing will surely bring in the customers. Good job mom. Her collection of kids and diseases will make you proud some day, I'm sure.
Sincerely,
The bitch trying not to vomit on your kid.
Sincerely,
The bitch trying not to vomit on your kid.
An Open Letter to Halloween
Dear Halloween,
It's still early here on the west coast so hopefully I've caught you in time. Please STOP encouraging girls to dress like sluts on this glorious unholy day.
It's as if Halloween is now just another excuse to dress trashy and show off your nips and Brit Brit. It's gross. Really. Really really gross.
Halloween, if you are really a horny teenage boy in disguise I can recommend some raunchy websites where you can get your kicks so that I don't have to look at countless girls OF ALL AGES dressed as hookers and hos.
Thank You,
Super Mega Bitch
It's still early here on the west coast so hopefully I've caught you in time. Please STOP encouraging girls to dress like sluts on this glorious unholy day.
It's as if Halloween is now just another excuse to dress trashy and show off your nips and Brit Brit. It's gross. Really. Really really gross.
Halloween, if you are really a horny teenage boy in disguise I can recommend some raunchy websites where you can get your kicks so that I don't have to look at countless girls OF ALL AGES dressed as hookers and hos.
Thank You,
Super Mega Bitch
Hey, Assface
It isn't my fault that you have a shitty little job in a shitty little movie store. If you don't like it, take your fat ass out the door, grab a paper and look through the want ads for a new one. Don't cop an attitude with me because I asked you for a freakin' movie. It's your JOB to know what movies your store has and when those that are out are due back. Fuck you if you don't like it. I didn't make you take this job, nor did I make the lame ass decisions that led you to being a disgruntled 40 something Carl Brutananadilewski look alike with this crappy job. So, if you want to be pissed off about your life, fine, but do it somewhere else. I'm sure mom would love to hear all bout your shitty little life. Go tell her.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
I Don't Want To See...
Your ass crack. Under any circumstances. Get a belt. Get a longer shirt. Get pants that fit. Wear a friggin' cape. COVER IT UP - BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY. Duct tape. Surgically implant Velcro on your lower back and then on the waistband of all your pants/shorts/skirts.
I'm giving you fair warning right now, you know who you are...if I see it again...I'm going to mercilessly mock and embarrass you. I will point. I will snicker. I will make a SCENE. I will yell, "I CAN SEE YOUR ASS CRACK! EW! IS THAT POO? DID YOU SHIT UP YOUR BACK?"
And while we're on the topic, I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR FLABBY MUFFIN TOP OF A BELLY EITHER. Cover that chub up. Unless you're 2 or you've got abs like Gwen Stefanni give us a break. If you need to stretch and you know your milky white Pooh-bear belly is going to be exposed, here's an idea...go somewhere private. DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT come over to my desk to do your yoga moves while you blab about nothing. I can't hear you anyway, because I'm too busy trying not to throw up.
Sincerely,
Ms. Yougottabefuckinkiddingme
I'm giving you fair warning right now, you know who you are...if I see it again...I'm going to mercilessly mock and embarrass you. I will point. I will snicker. I will make a SCENE. I will yell, "I CAN SEE YOUR ASS CRACK! EW! IS THAT POO? DID YOU SHIT UP YOUR BACK?"
And while we're on the topic, I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR FLABBY MUFFIN TOP OF A BELLY EITHER. Cover that chub up. Unless you're 2 or you've got abs like Gwen Stefanni give us a break. If you need to stretch and you know your milky white Pooh-bear belly is going to be exposed, here's an idea...go somewhere private. DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT come over to my desk to do your yoga moves while you blab about nothing. I can't hear you anyway, because I'm too busy trying not to throw up.
Sincerely,
Ms. Yougottabefuckinkiddingme
Stupid Whore
Hey, you. Yeah, you. The drunk one.
Stop talking about me behind my back and then lying to me about it.
I will beat you like a baby seal.
You don't like me, that's fine. You have a problem with me, that's fine.
But you tell me to my face. Don't pull a bunch of passive-agressive bullshit, gossiping to my friends about me. Did you think they wouldn't tell me? I have news for you, little troll. They like me. They think you are a fucking joke.
You got caught in a lie. Move on. I don't think you are a nice person. It's not the end of the world. I'm not a nice person, either, and I'm cool with it.
Stop talking about me behind my back and then lying to me about it.
I will beat you like a baby seal.
You don't like me, that's fine. You have a problem with me, that's fine.
But you tell me to my face. Don't pull a bunch of passive-agressive bullshit, gossiping to my friends about me. Did you think they wouldn't tell me? I have news for you, little troll. They like me. They think you are a fucking joke.
You got caught in a lie. Move on. I don't think you are a nice person. It's not the end of the world. I'm not a nice person, either, and I'm cool with it.
Maybe You Should Eat That Cell Phone
Excuse me?
Yeah, you in the gas-guzzling SUV in the drive-through line at Subway.
You're too fucking lazy to walk inside to place your order, at a place where it's really not convenient for a drive-up window to exist, and now you're too damned busy to talk to the person manning the window? Because you're on the phone?
Well boo-fucking-hoo, stop being such a douchebag and place your order already. You're already pissing me off by sitting there spewing your exhaust fumes all over, not to mention the fact that others have to wait while your sandwich is made, even though they've made the effort to haul their asses inside.
I'd so love to shove that cell phone down your throat. I just hope you choke on your food.
Yeah, you in the gas-guzzling SUV in the drive-through line at Subway.
You're too fucking lazy to walk inside to place your order, at a place where it's really not convenient for a drive-up window to exist, and now you're too damned busy to talk to the person manning the window? Because you're on the phone?
Well boo-fucking-hoo, stop being such a douchebag and place your order already. You're already pissing me off by sitting there spewing your exhaust fumes all over, not to mention the fact that others have to wait while your sandwich is made, even though they've made the effort to haul their asses inside.
I'd so love to shove that cell phone down your throat. I just hope you choke on your food.
Hey Brown Capris
Hey You.
Yes You, Lady wearing dark brown capris with light brown riding boots.
Unless you tuck those pants into the boots and your horse is parked in the parking lot, you're a total douche!
Thank You,
Total Bitch
Yes You, Lady wearing dark brown capris with light brown riding boots.
Unless you tuck those pants into the boots and your horse is parked in the parking lot, you're a total douche!
Thank You,
Total Bitch
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