Blog Over Troubled Waters

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Okay, so I almost snapped at work tonight.  I firmly believe some people exist just to test my ability to resist the urge to throat-punch them.  It’s pretty bad when you come so close to losing your shit that you find yourself weighing the pros and cons…pros–it will make me feel warm and fuzzy and such…cons–lose my job, possibly get arrested, I am not cut out for jail so…damn.  I managed to keep my cool, barely, so there’s that.  And, on top of dealing with that, I was working my ass off, trying to make the store look as good as I possibly could.  I may have overdone it a bit, but I didn’t actually pass out, so that’s a bonus.  Had some asthma issues and my stupid back is hurting, but, damn it, I still did my job and did it without whining!  At one point, I was standing there, sweat dripping off my face, wheezing and coughing, chest hurting like a bitch, and someone asked if I was going to be okay.  Considering that this person had been whining incessantly all night about everything wrong with her and her life and annoying the ever-lovin’ piss out of me, I refrained from choking her and said, “I’ll live.”  I totally think I should get some kind of reward for making it through the night without throttling her or bursting into tears.  And sadly, the night did not improve after closing either.  In fact, I didn’t start feeling like a rational human being again until I got home, had a breathing treatment, talked to my boss and Krystal and Tom, and had some supper.  Thankfully, I am once again my normal bat-shit whacky self now.

I had, like, over 20 views today!  (Actually, technically, yesterday.)  Awesome-sauce!!

Tonight at work I found a pair of flip-flops hidden under some underwear.  They still had the tag on them but they had obviously been worn–you could actually see the filthy footprint.  So, either someone took the shoes, wore them, and brought them back (probably not so much), or they had feet so nasty filthy dirty that they left behind a filth print from trying them on.  Can you imagine how funky someone’s foot would have to be to leave a super clear skanky foot print on a flip-flop?  That is just nasty.  Soap and water folks, soap and water.

Daily randomosity:  There is no way in hell that I would EVER stay at the Clown Motel.  It’s totally a real place somewhere near Vegas or something.  Every room is clown themed.  The lobby is loaded with creepy clowns.  And, added bonus, it’s located right next to an old cemetery filled with the graves of miners that died from a plague or something.  My new favorite saying, “Boarding the ‘nope’ train to ‘fuck that’ ville.”  Absolutely ah-mazingly delightful, that one.  I don’t think I’d do very well on a chain gang.  I mean, aside from the fact that I am completely and utterly not cut out for a life of crime or jail or prison time.  So, aside from that, I just wouldn’t last very long on a chain gang.  Someone would end up choking me with my chain after the 95th time I shrieked and tried to run from some creepy critter or the 25th time I had to stop ’cause I was having an asthma attack or the 12th time I started cussing ’cause I broke another nail.  I don’t deal well with the whole ‘outside’ thing.  Nature hates me and, quite honestly, I hate it right back.  Damn allergens and critters and bugs and heat/cold and dirt–ick.  Lockup Raw is kinda awesome.  I hope the river stays far away from my aunt’s house so they don’t have to go through the whole evacuation thing again.  I hate when chicks grow their hair suuuuuuper long without trimming it.  They think it looks all pretty and special and stuff, but it doesn’t.  It looks horrible.  It’s all unhealthy and split-endy and such and it just looks shitty.  Even if I didn’t have any hair, I just don’t think I would ever get a tattoo on my head.  And why don’t you see many head tattoos that are fun or cheerful?  Mostly they’re, like, swastikas or words like ‘killer’ or some gang sign thingy.  Why not a smiley face or, like, three holes so it looks like your head’s a bowling ball, or a nice poem or a map of the brain or something like that?  I’m pretty sure Sara Palin (don’t know how it’s spelled, nor do I care) is, like, the devil.  Why don’t people just do what cops tell them to?  If a cop tells me to stop moving, I would freeze, if they told me to get on the ground, I would hit the ground before they had a chance to finish giving the command.  No way in hell would I fight with a cop.  I do not want my ass tazed, nor do I want to be tackled or anything like that.  Why is it still considered girl’s going wild for a bunch a chicks to flash a camera?  I think girl’s gone trashy and pathetic would be more accurate.  I mean, there’s like, a zillion of videos of that sort of nonsense.  Not really that shocking and definitely not impressive or daring or whatever.  Rather beyond tacky, actually.  I need to get some sun–looking all caspery and whatnot.  

Nite all!

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