Buzzkill of the Day
Yeah. No doubt.
I think I pulled my butt muscle rearranging all my furniture today. Oh and our power drill is dead so I had to screw everything old school status and I got a blister.
(Should used lube.)
We found the pretty pit bull Bailey, a little kid had her. I was more worried about her because people like to fight pit bulls. The half chihuahua half shi tzu is still missing. People would take care of him because he's a sweet dog and he's super cute. I want him back though because he's my dog. I'm gonna drive around some more tonight after work because that's how my brother found his pit bull, he was out in the neighborhood and he saw the kid walking her. We'll probably end up microchipping them though because it's not actually that expensive.
I'm really glad you found one. Really hope you find the other.
I am So fucking tired of being broke. I work 40 plus hours a week and still dont have enough money to pay my bills. I am going to start dealing drugs.
As your attorney, my advise to you is to start drinking heavily(er).-Tuffy
I wake up. get to work. And instantly have that feeling of sadness and not giving a good god damn about this shit.
As your attorney, my advise to you is to start drinking heavily(er).-Tuffy
Noah, I'm in the same boat most of the time. I hate my job, and I'm under paid. To pay all my bills, most of my money goes to that and the little extra I get goes to food and gas.
Food, gas, and thats about it. Fucking call centers. my bad mood just grows because I dont have anything to do but stew in my own shit.
If anyone wants to call xbox please just dont yell. Because I assume you I wont care.
I could be really good as this job to if it was worth it. But its the same pay to slack off.
As your attorney, my advise to you is to start drinking heavily(er).-Tuffy
I don't think it makes me a terrible person to be a little relieved that others are going through the same shit.
I think everyone is having a hard time financially these days. We've spent the weekend paying to have broken down cars fixed. $200 for the Explorer that is 9 years old and 250,000 miles. I should actually just be happy it still goes. That car has been good to us. The '98 caddy that Jack got Tboned in had to have the relays replaced for the light. None of them were working, $200. Now we have to buy the door and some parts to go with it for it to be fixed, which is $375and then the labor to replace the door and new paint on it because it doesn't match 
don't have that estimate yet. Had to rent a car for the weekend while we were missing one or the other of the two broken ones $80. Oh and the washing machine decided to break down this weekend. So that will be anther $300 for just a basic one. That is what I usually buy. I mean I would like a front loader, but those are pretty expensive. I really don't care what my washer and dryer look like as long as they just get the job done. My sister Inlaw, who has to have the best of the best, just spent 2 or $3,000 on her washer and dryer. She got the front loaders and had to have a special color ordered too. Don't get me wrong, I do like nice, fancy things too, but in appliances it really isn't a major concern of mine. I just want basic. I would rather spend my money on other things. But she has to have top of the line in everything she buys. Everything. To each their own huh.
Whatever Whore!
Aw, what a cute little steering wheel THAT NOW TURNS ALL THE WAY AROUND. Just randomly this morning. It's fun.
don't have that estimate yet. Had to rent a car for the weekend while we were missing one or the other of the two broken ones $80. Oh and the washing machine decided to break down this weekend. So that will be anther $300 for just a basic one. That is what I usually buy. I mean I would like a front loader, but those are pretty expensive. I really don't care what my washer and dryer look like as long as they just get the job done. My sister Inlaw, who has to have the best of the best, just spent 2 or $3,000 on her washer and dryer. She got the front loaders and had to have a special color ordered too. Don't get me wrong, I do like nice, fancy things too, but in appliances it really isn't a major concern of mine. I just want basic. I would rather spend my money on other things. But she has to have top of the line in everything she buys. Everything. To each their own huh.
My mom had the same washer and dryer for almost 20 years, but I don't think things are made like they used to be. I wish my appliances would last that long! I'd like to get at least ten years out of everything, though.
Ha, my Mum's dryer died recently. It was 20 years old.
The washing machine that we have now is 12 years old and it still works fine. The electric stove is even older and it still makes a perfect roast or grilled chicken.
Is it German? Their appliances almost last forever.
My Mum also uses the toastie machine she received as a wedding present. It is a bit grim looking, I think I'll get her a new one for Christmas.
They're both BEKO. I think it's a Turkish company.
This is a boat I end up spending a year or so in, every other year, and it's coming down to that time again. The welfare gives me 570 a month; 300 for rent, 150 for credit card bills, the rest on tuna, eggs, and weed.
They've finally cut me off again, so it's back to the coal mines. Looking like factory work this time, and I'm not sure at all how I'll handle that. It'll be better than the call center, and better pay as well, but nothing like the glory days of working the night shift at the superstore--joints in the freezer, eating and drinking whatever I wanted in the whole grocery section, reading books in the change rooms, playing hackey sack in the foyer and using the intercom to say, "Attention all shoppers, Scott is a fag! He loves the cock! He's got a fat cheeseburger gut and he just keeps ramming cheeseburgers in there!" Elbowing holes in pumpkins and watching entire displays rot.
I think some times my entire life could be described as a meaningless path of destruction, and this was never more true than with that grocery store. You look in any aisle and you'll find a wall or rack or post that I sliced up with my box cutter, ambling about and slashing as I walked until it seemed the whole place might come down around me.
What I've come to realize is that no matter how much you slack off, no matter how much you steal from the company you work for, no matter how much you get the best of asshole managers, it really is just always going to suck to have to be somewhere for eight hours doing something you don't feel passionate about.
At the gas station I could read and write; at the grocery store I could listen to audiobooks. At the call center I could read between calls, and when I got good enough I could read during calls. At the factory, it's not gonna play out like that, it's gonna be me and a machine and a lot of noise, a lot of people shouting and expecting me to shout which I won't do, and breaks on metallic tables surrounded by people who will talk about work and they'll have little sandwich stands with egg salad sandwiches but who knows how many eggs are used in each sandwich, and the bread will be white, it's always white, I'll bring my own lunch and when I get home, I'll know I have only exactly enough time to work out, read, write, and then go directly to sleep and wake into the exact same day again where if the writing calls for another hour it'll go wanting or it won't and I'll go tired, wake up tired, work tired, workout tired, or maybe just smoke a joint and stare at the wall and wonder what happened and then, one day, when the rent is paid, I'll quit the job and be in the exact same position that I'm in now.
When i worked in the gas station, i'd spend time in the cooler throwing a knife at the other end to puncture beer cans or the wall. It was satisfying every time.
This is a boat I end up spending a year or so in, every other year, and it's coming down to that time again. The welfare gives me 570 a month; 300 for rent, 150 for credit card bills, the rest on tuna, eggs, and weed.
They've finally cut me off again, so it's back to the coal mines. Looking like factory work this time, and I'm not sure at all how I'll handle that. It'll be better than the call center, and better pay as well, but nothing like the glory days of working the night shift at the superstore--joints in the freezer, eating and drinking whatever I wanted in the whole grocery section, reading books in the change rooms, playing hackey sack in the foyer and using the intercom to say, "Attention all shoppers, Scott is a fag! He loves the cock! He's got a fat cheeseburger gut and he just keeps ramming cheeseburgers in there!" Elbowing holes in pumpkins and watching entire displays rot.
I think some times my entire life could be described as a meaningless path of destruction, and this was never more true than with that grocery store. You look in any aisle and you'll find a wall or rack or post that I sliced up with my box cutter, ambling about and slashing as I walked until it seemed the whole place might come down around me.
What I've come to realize is that no matter how much you slack off, no matter how much you steal from the company you work for, no matter how much you get the best of asshole managers, it really is just always going to suck to have to be somewhere for eight hours doing something you don't feel passionate about.
At the gas station I could read and write; at the grocery store I could listen to audiobooks. At the call center I could read between calls, and when I got good enough I could read during calls. At the factory, it's not gonna play out like that, it's gonna be me and a machine and a lot of noise, a lot of people shouting and expecting me to shout which I won't do, and breaks on metallic tables surrounded by people who will talk about work and they'll have little sandwich stands with egg salad sandwiches but who knows how many eggs are used in each sandwich, and the bread will be white, it's always white, I'll bring my own lunch and when I get home, I'll know I have only exactly enough time to work out, read, write, and then go directly to sleep and wake into the exact same day again where if the writing calls for another hour it'll go wanting or it won't and I'll go tired, wake up tired, work tired, workout tired, or maybe just smoke a joint and stare at the wall and wonder what happened and then, one day, when the rent is paid, I'll quit the job and be in the exact same position that I'm in now.
What's a job interview with you like?
This is a boat I end up spending a year or so in, every other year, and it's coming down to that time again. The welfare gives me 570 a month; 300 for rent, 150 for credit card bills, the rest on tuna, eggs, and weed.
They've finally cut me off again, so it's back to the coal mines. Looking like factory work this time, and I'm not sure at all how I'll handle that. It'll be better than the call center, and better pay as well, but nothing like the glory days of working the night shift at the superstore--joints in the freezer, eating and drinking whatever I wanted in the whole grocery section, reading books in the change rooms, playing hackey sack in the foyer and using the intercom to say, "Attention all shoppers, Scott is a fag! He loves the cock! He's got a fat cheeseburger gut and he just keeps ramming cheeseburgers in there!" Elbowing holes in pumpkins and watching entire displays rot.
I think some times my entire life could be described as a meaningless path of destruction, and this was never more true than with that grocery store. You look in any aisle and you'll find a wall or rack or post that I sliced up with my box cutter, ambling about and slashing as I walked until it seemed the whole place might come down around me.
What I've come to realize is that no matter how much you slack off, no matter how much you steal from the company you work for, no matter how much you get the best of asshole managers, it really is just always going to suck to have to be somewhere for eight hours doing something you don't feel passionate about.
At the gas station I could read and write; at the grocery store I could listen to audiobooks. At the call center I could read between calls, and when I got good enough I could read during calls. At the factory, it's not gonna play out like that, it's gonna be me and a machine and a lot of noise, a lot of people shouting and expecting me to shout which I won't do, and breaks on metallic tables surrounded by people who will talk about work and they'll have little sandwich stands with egg salad sandwiches but who knows how many eggs are used in each sandwich, and the bread will be white, it's always white, I'll bring my own lunch and when I get home, I'll know I have only exactly enough time to work out, read, write, and then go directly to sleep and wake into the exact same day again where if the writing calls for another hour it'll go wanting or it won't and I'll go tired, wake up tired, work tired, workout tired, or maybe just smoke a joint and stare at the wall and wonder what happened and then, one day, when the rent is paid, I'll quit the job and be in the exact same position that I'm in now.
What's a job interview with you like?
Sa'll in the game, nigga.
It sure is. But what's a job interview with you like?
So over a month ago we found out my step dad has Lewy Body Disease, a form a of dementia. He's on medication but there's no telling if it will work.
Things have been pretty bleak around here. My mom keeps saying he's going to get worse and I fear she's going to guilt me into staying and helping her take care of him.
I don't care if this makes me sound like an asshole but I've always hated my step-dad. Ever since he stepped into the picture nothing has gone right and now nothing ever will go right.
I answer their questions to the best of my ability, relying on my sense of their person and body language, to tell them what they want to hear. It's always the same questions, but it all depends on who you're talking to. If it's a human resources department you'll never have to see them; they have right and wrong answers to their questions, and they judge how quickly you can answer. If it's the owner, they just want to know that you'll make them more money than what they're buying your labor for. If it's somebody you're going to be working beside every day, then all they care about is whether or not they get along with you. If you're getting a job with a contractor who hires anyone to put in floors and fires them the second they aren't working hard enough, the interview consists of him asking if you know how to use a nailer, showing you once and if you don't get it you're fucked. I play it how I see it as it comes, and no two job interviews have been the same except the ones for big corporations which hire based on qualifications; the interview process is more just a process for making sure you aren't nuts, so wear a nice shirt and be polite and shit pretty much falls into place.
I've only once had an interview and not been called for the job. That guy was old and dumb, and all he asked of me was a criminal record check. Interview for the pizza place, I argued with the owner for ten minutes about whether or not the population of our city is growing or shrinking. I wrote out my entire interview at the window factory six years ago as a Pointless Announcement; he was the millionaire owner of the factory and he just wanted to argue with someone, I think. Gas Station, Ahmid Chahine took a stack of resumes and threw them in the garbage and said, "I have all resumes here, you see? They fill two, three page. Your resume you have one page." And then he grabbed my arm and said, "But I like you, Dan! I trust you from moment I saw you."
And so it goes. All in the muhfuckin' game, nigga.
Does that make the body all lewy?
Man, that name just sounds disgusting. I'm sorry for that guy.
This sums it all up so perfectly.
Things have been pretty bleak around here. My mom keeps saying he's going to get worse and I fear she's going to guilt me into staying and helping her take care of him.
I don't care if this makes me sound like an asshole but I've always hated my step-dad. Ever since he stepped into the picture nothing has gone right and now nothing ever will go right.
I don't say this to be a dick to your family. But get out. They are not helping you.
My Dad did his first Chemo treatment yesterday. He did 3 different medicines. They started him at 10 am and he was done at 3:30pm. He did great. Came home and went about his day. Eating dinner, watching football and then off to bed. My phone was ringing at 3:30 this morning and I knew it was something bad. It was my Mom. She was hysterical. He had woke her up, shaking the bed from a seizure. She called 911 immediately. We were lucky, because my sister was working dispatch and took the call. She helped talk mom through until the emt's arrived. 7 minutes and Mom said it felt like it was forever. My Dad is 6'3" and 225lbs. My Mom is 5'5" and 140 lbs. he was trying to get out of the bed and convulsing. My poor Mom was trying to hold him in the bed and bring him to. He was fighting her and going in and out of the seizure. They both are 73 years old. My Mom is very frail and I don't see how she did it. She said it was the adrenaline rush from it all and she thought he was dying. I live closest to the Hospital and my brother and sister stopped to pick up Mom and I ended up gettin there first. When I got in the room with him he said, "Pooh, I don't know what happened.?" I told him he had a seizure and it was probably from his Chemo treatment. He said, "Why was I getting Chemo." I had to tell him it was because he had Cancer. Uuuugh! Then he said, "Oh, that's right." he had bit his tougne during the seizure and it was making him talk strange and he was definitely having memory issues. So now I'm thinking a stroke, but it was for sure a seizure. They gave him Ativan to keep him from having anymore seizures. He was also very nauseous, so they have medicine for that too. They took blood and did a CT Scan. All of that came back normal. They decided to admit him and got him in a room around 7:30 am. When we went up to see him and go for awhile so he could rest, he was zonked out. I'm sure he and his body was exhausted from everything. My brother stayed and me, Mom and my sister left to go home. I had to be at the Doctor to get my epidural for my neck at 9am. I had only been in bed an hour when Mom called while he was getting loaded in the Ambulance. So I came home and slept for about 15 minutes and then headed to the doctor. I finally layer down at 12 for 2 hours. My brother has been there all day and Mom was headed back in around 5. I cannot drive for 24 hours after my epidurals, I'm super tired and feel very helpless in the situation. My Dad has never been one to get headaches, colds, stomach viruses, any sickness. He's very strong and healthy, so to see him in this state is heartbreaking for me. But I have to be strong for my Mom, because she has been hysterical from the start. I have to stay strong and clearheaded for her, so she can quietly break. I'm sorry for the long bummer post guys, but I had to go somewhere and you are the first people I think of in these situations now. Is that weird? Even if you don't respond to my post, I know you are there and that's all that matters. Thanks guys! I may have Jack drive me in to the Hospital in a bit. My Mom wanted me to stay home and rest from the epidural, but I feel like that is the wrong thing to do. I will update as soon as I hear anything. We are waiting for his Doctor and Oncologist to come in and let us know if he's staying the rest of the night, going home. You know. Anyhow, thank you!
Whatever Whore!
Wow. I'm sorry about your dad.
Thanks so much. They are keeping him over night. They did an MRI this afternoon. His family doctor came in today and did say it is unusual to have a seizure from the Chemo, but not ruling that out. His Oncologist will be in tomorrow. He ate really good today and slept very well. He wants to go home.
Whatever Whore!
This must be really tough for you.
God that's crazy, I hope your dad is okay.
Stay strong, Winnie...I hope things turn out well for everyone.
SO I saw guy get shot last night. Well I saw some hood as fuck fellows at a bar. They went outside I saw a gun come up, shots fired. A bunch of cars got hit. Cops showed up. A girl was yelling that we are all going to get jumped for talking to the 50. I got my friends behind the bar, was up untill 5 am taking car of drunk hysterical people, only got 4 hours sleep. I feel like I am going to vomit and die but I get to take calls all day now. WHOOOOW. fuck.
As your attorney, my advise to you is to start drinking heavily(er).-Tuffy
Damn, I hope you're fine.
I've come to this conclusion. The people that care about me have their own issues to deal with. Everyone else I could possibly talk to, I don't want to bother with my problems. So I've reached the point of saying nothing. And it's really shitty. Even typing and posting this was a struggle, just because I feel like a whiny little bitch. But I think it would be less healthy to say nothing at all.
Chris, maybe think of things a different way....
Has anyone ever said to you, "you can talk to me if you need to?" or, "I'm here for you"? If so, then chances are, they meant it, and chances are, you should trust that they would want you to turn to them.
Has anyone ever said to you, "you can talk to me if you need to?" or, "I'm here for you"? If so, then chances are, they meant it, and chances are, you should trust that they would want you to turn to them.
Yeah, I suppose it's just that, like, I've done all that before, you know? I've talked to people about it, the people who said I could talk to them, but it never changes anything. And it gets frustrating to hear the same response over and over again. I figure, why waste both of our time if I know what the end result will be? Why bother getting frustrated?
Because of love for Fano, that's why.
It depends on what you're trying to change. If you're not happy, figure out what'll make you happy and actively go for it. Don't just talk about how you don't have it. That would be whining. Don't get me wrong, whining can be nice, buuut not if you want to change anything. I think it actually makes you less likely to do something about it. I can't imagine what you could be missing, though.
If it's something like losing a loved one, okay, it's time to find someone to talk to and NOOObody would blame you.
Si vis pacem, para bellum
Coincidentally, I think I'm finding people to be more and more of a pain in the ass. They don't talk about anything interesting anymore. There's this one guy that I can always count on to have an interesting conversation with, though. My complaint is about not having a lot of women in my life that're willing to go for multi-hour-long talks about dissecting a policy's effects on mass psychology and whether it would slow progress or if that progress has a limit that we've reached (like animal cruelty sort of arguments), how funny that episode of Futurama was, or why Johnny Knoxville is the quintessential American man.
It's a damn good thing I started playing guitar.
Si vis pacem, para bellum
Yeah.
I've that problem of no one to talk with most of the time either. In both the sense Fano described, and even more the sense Lib described (though the subjects of interest would be quite different) I know it is why I have been so lonely recently.
Actually, the not having any chance to really exchange thoughts with people is what is making me all bummed and thinking I want to exchange feelings.
I have the flu or pancreatitis or something.
This is why we can't have nice things.
Feel better.
Thanks guys! I am staying strong. I feel better after a good nights sleep. I only had 4 hours of sleep in 48 hours. I was feeling super weird. They did a spinal tap because the found a spot on the brain. They think the cancer has spread to the brain. They released him today and want someone here with him besides my Mom. I'm here tonight. They think that is what did cause the seizure. He is suppose to have his seizure medicine twice a day. He had a dose this morning, but refuses to take another dose. Thinks he's being treated like a baby. I am frustrated about this and hope we don't have to make another trip to the Er for a seizure, but I guess he really has a lot to process too. And he is probably holding on to the last bit of control he has, since the cancer is taking over his control. I'm hoping after he processes, he will realize he needs to take the medicine. I'm scared about another seizure, but I can't force the medicine down his throat. So after his temper tantrum and pouting, I'm pretty sure he will take it. I'm dealing with an ex state detective/cop of nearly 40 years, so he has to be in control. I get it. Im just scared for him and hope he processes quickly. Thanks again guys for listening to me and your support. Besides my best friend you're all I have. My husband and kids have ducked tail and run.
Whatever Whore!
Some couple tipped me 5 dollars for a $88 check. I could careless about how much I got but it kinda annoyed me because the way they ordered and on top of that they were cheap about it.
Doesn't it go 10-15% there, too?
Yeah. Tipping less than the tax, they were better off kicking me in the vagina.
It's minimum 15%, people! Don't have enough? Don't eat out.
This is why we can't have nice things.
^agree
Hope you find them, Stephen.