Tuesday, November 25, 2008

People Madness

cherry tree, pickle!
burnt butthole, stinky tomato!
haikus make no sense!


Weird People Shenanigans

Alright I have a few pet peeves that I would like to share with like minded individuals; but since I don't know any other weirdos who look forward to holiday brawls in his own home, you guys will have to do.

And because I know you all love lists so much, I put these all in order. Enjoy.

1) Untrusting old people - This is the person who blames everything on Microsoft, nevermind that the reason their computer is running slowly is because their grandkid had been downloading Placenta Pounders 3: The Rebirth, all issues are because Microsoft wants to ruin their lives. SLow computer? Microsoft. Tons of porn on your desktop? Microsoft. Bought some Viagra and still can't piss without it getting on your balls? Well that's really sad, but still the fault of Microsoft.

2) "You control the internet" - I hate this person. THis is the douche that calls because www.insertobscuretotallynonworkfuckrelatedwebsite.com is not working and the first thing out of their upper sex hole is "Is the internet down? Why can't you guys just keep it working? I'm trying to *insert totally mundane task* that will make this company *insert astronomical number* and I can't because you can't keep the internet running!" You should respond to this with "Well as soon as I do reboot the internet I am going to do *mundane task* so I can make those *astronomical number of dollars*!" Then shit on their desk.

3) The Weird smile - this is usually an elevator person. We all know the etiquette: get on the elevator as quickly as possible, no farting unless A) you know everyone on the elevator or b) you are getting off on your floor, look straight ahead but if you do make eye contact, a quick nervous smile and then look only at the closed doors or up at the floor number indicator. The weird smile person is usually someone of the opposite sex, sometimes quite homely but not always, and usually does the proverbial "double take" as you get on the elevator. This is followed by her staring at you, sometimes mouthing words to try to get you to look at them but not always, followed by moving slightly closer to you every time someone else gets on the elevator or she thinks you are not watching her. DO NOT get off on the same floor as weird smile person, even if that is your floor and even if she is riding the elevator up to see you at said floor. Tis much easier to become entangled in an awkward toilet shopper moment (see number 4) than deal with said person following you around, going "mm-MMMm" while looking at your crotch (hello, my eyes are up here ladies) or, and I shit you not, informing you "you is fine as a muthafuckah" and then nodding their head in case you didn't quite get the message.

4) Awkward toilet shopper - This is when another of the magical (and quickly growing) numbers of toilet shoppers gets off the elevator, checks around to make sure no one else is in the vicinity, heads for the bathroom and bumps into another toilet shopper, creating that awkward moment and sending many questions racing through each of the participants' heads:
1 - Does he/she use my toilet?
2 - would he/she tell anyone about my smell?
3 - Did I flush?
4 - WHy am I still standing here looking at this asshole?

It makes it worse if it is in an empty hallway, as there is no way to just bump into eachother and walk away quickly and then get lost in the crowd. WHen you are both alone, and you look into eachother's eyes, and both realize neither of you had any business on that floor, and you both know you are using the same toilet, but that the one who has not yet shit will still go sit on the warmed toilet seat of the one who has already shit.

5) Smeagol - What can I say, he steals shit, he is an asshole, what more do you need?

6) The "I'm still hip" wino - we all know this guy, this is the man with the tattered rags on, always smells of alcohol, can't french kiss worth a damn, always trying to shy away from your gentle touch as you lick what looks likce creamed spinach off of his 5 o'clock stubble while he sleeps in a pile of refuse behind the lofts on 5th and McGee....anyway this is the wino that tries to still be hip while trying to scam your hard earned monies. You can usually tell if a wino is the "I'm still hip" type because he starts his bum pitch with "Scuse me young blood, what's really good?"

On to other things...

So my aunt calls the other day to ask if certain people will be there, like she is trying to get her own fight card right in her head. Our guest list at this moment looks like so:

My fam
My wife's parents
Smeagol and Mystery
My parents
JJ and his kid
My aunt, her son and at least 3 or her grandkids
my sister and her coven
my wife's sister
whatever homeless wino my mom befriends on the way up

I swear, I sincerely love my mother. I do. But her penchant for finding the nastiest looking, gayest weirdo in the greater metropolitan area and then bring him to family functions is, has been and will always be mad annoying, son! I will never forget about that year she brought that blind guy up who ended up shitting all over my toilet, mad sprayage!

Anyway, if I don't have the pleasure of talking to any of you beforehand, happy holidays, stay safe, and can Smeagol move in with you?

Thursday, November 20, 2008

No Associating with Coloreds!

Take the long way home
hug a child; pet a damn dog
be someone, dammit!

When did I become a loser?

I sat on the can yesterday, playing a video game long after my shit was done, and pondered this. That act, sitting in the bathroom after I was done dropping the kids off, was my last act of outright defiance toward a world that had for years shunned me simply because I look like Anthony Anderson and Nell Carter made sweet love and created a baby. I wondered how I went from the guy everyone loved in Kindergarten because I had shown them my weiner, set fire to my mom's clothes, killed not one but 3 classroom pets, and was a general terror to all authority figures, to the meek individual you see in the manager's office today. I mean sure, I went to all manner of manager's meetings back in the day, but the rebellion seemed forced.

The manager meetings at the Firm had taken a decidedly more confrontational stance after my little suaree at the technical retreat, which baffled me because one of the highest people on the food chain was up there rambling whilst drunk about "and IT, you guys are....(starts falling asleep, wakes self up violently) you guys are the best at what you do, I mean if you don't do IT then who does, am I right? You guys are computers.... you do computers SO WELL..." thus proving that

A) she had NO fucking clue what we did, and
B) if I had been just a little more unscrutable I could have beat her back out toot sweet, but alas I was busy answering calls from all manner of pissed off toupee wearing lawyer at the time.

Anyway, I think the reason for this manager's meeting was either I had made Flanders cry by ignoring him or grunting out my answers, one of my favorite things to do, or Greyskull had overheard me saying I fell in love with the 14 year old intern after she crawled under a desk for me; I sometimes get dates and stuff mixed up. Anyway, I think all G-Skull wanted was an opportunity to call me into her lair, and she got it when I dared speak to the other African-American on the floor. As we all know, 1 black guy means a robbery is about to take place, 2 is the beginning of a riot. As I am standing over ther, rambling on about completely inapproriate things with Derka and Mixmaster P, Greyskull moseys over and sweetly calls me into her office. This was strange for 2 reasons: at that point it had been almost a week since I had been called into her office, and we were all wondering what the drought was for, and 2 she was usually already fuming by the time she came by to call me in. I walked to the lair vowing to keep my wits about me and stay on my toes.

I walk in and sit down, noticing that no one else is in there and so this is just another retarded "You're so well spoken for a negro, you gotta be happier from now on, smile for your overlords boah!" lack of communications meeting, and relax, leaning back with my arms crossed so she knew she was wrong.

"Stevester, I would like to start by saying you are very intelligent, and your technical skills are sound-' blah blah blah '-but I've noticed that you are starting a very disturbing trend where you only talk to certain people, and completely ignore others. SPeaking to Desi all the time makes others feel as if you do not care for them, and that's not what we're about. From now on, you need to respond to everyone favorably, and try to make everyone feel as if they are your best friend, understand?"

Never. Never in all my years as a security guard, burger flipper, hand party maker or warehouse worker have I gotten in trouble for not being everyone's "friend". I was literally getting talked to because I was not everyone's friend. I was so completely floored I could not find words to protest other than "are you saying I have to be likable to everyone? I have to be buddies with every person here? I don't come in to work to be anyone's friend; I come here to work. Some people I like talking to, and some I talk to less, but I am not here to be anyone's friend."

She tried to counter with a different tactic: preying upon my ego. This would work if I (and my weiner) were allowed to roam free amongst the large swathes of uger hot ladies (especially the ones in records, MMmm MMmmm!), wrangling them down with my love lasso, but at that point I was in year 8 of my wife's 25 year plan to turn me either gay or so meek that I would actually watch her stupid lifetime movies and cry along with her (I still won't, great success!)

"Listen Stevester, when you come in with a good attitude everyone is happier. The day moves along more smoothly and everything works out easier. When you come in and sit at your desk like that-' at this point she pointed at how I was sitting with my arms crossed, desperately trying to roll my eyes a little bit more -' and grunt when people try to talk to you, you bring the whole team down and everyone walks around wondering 'what's wrong with Stevester?', 'why is he so angry all of the time?'.... stuff like that. I do not want to see you talking to Desi anymore, as it appears all you are doing is wasting time instead of doing what you are here for, which is to work. You also need to put on an academy performance to get rid of that bad attitude and become more approachable by ALL employees' and at this point I knew she meant mostly Flanders, who had made it very clear that my ignoring him and grunting at him was hurting his widdle feewings because "I'm a sensitive guy" which I think is code for "I'm not gay, but I would take a cock if the guy bought me flowers first"

Only after I walked out of the office and sat at my cube while Flanders dry humped me into submission with Greyskull looking on with a maniacal grin did I think to tell her that I also hated Derka when she first sat by me and did not speak to her for almost a month either, but by then it no longer mattered.

EPILOGUE

Desi also got into trouble for "inciting riots and unlawful assembly with another colored" or something like that, and in whispered tones in a back hallway he informed me of this. It is on this day that I officially began a search for another job. When I am not only not allowed to talk to friends but am in essence forced to circle jerk Santa and Flanders, who had to be the only ones who complained because they were the only ones I didn't talk to, it is officially time to move on.

Monday, November 17, 2008

The Road Less Travelled - Holiday Edition

autumn leaves, brisk wind
a chilly breeze reminds you
the raptor draws near


I would first like to apologise, I forgot to inform you all I was going on a weeklong hiatus as I took a week's vacation from work, from computers, from life. Twas a grand time, and I fully recommend everyone do it, taking a week where you do absolutely nothing, just sit in the living room with either a cup of cocoa or some hardcore porn, and revel in the fact that not only are the kids at school, but that you have nothing to do. No errands to run, no reason to turn the computer on, just sit in a chair and go completely blank. Make sure like me you have a goodly spouse who will turn you at 4 hour intervals so that you do not get bed sores, and that they clean up your poopies.


ANyway, on to other things.


I turned 28, whoopie. I got my third stripe on my belt that happens to be black, which is pretty cool, but with that came something not so cool. We are trying to go more traditional, as some of the heathen children in my dojo have no respect for themselves, much less their elders, and so I have to deal with every time I enter the dojo going through the Sempai rule.


The Sempai rule sounds cool in theory. In Japan, the third degree blackbelt was the one who actually runs the classes within the dojo. The higher belt rank mainly handled money and other administrative tasks, and taught the black belts. As most of your teaching up to the rank of black belt came from the third degree black belt, or "Sempai", you showed them a great deal of respect, done by stopping whatever you were doing when they enter the dojo, turning to them, announcing their formal title and bowing profusely. THis would have been cool in the olden days, with adults and possibly children who are not poster children for Ritalin (I do not advocate Ritalin, but if I did... that's all I'm saying), but today, not so much.


I get to k-rat, and walk in the door scratching my balls like I usually do before I walk around shaking hands, and the kids all turn to look at my mid-scratch, parents as well, and giggle out "Hey Semper fi!" or some such crap before trying to hug me into submission. I swear I almost used my kung fu powers to kill them. Why do kids like me so much? I go out of my way to avoid them, and they somehow take that as me trying to mentor them or something, and it annoys the crap out of me. I mean, I like my kids, but that's because I am required to by state law I think.

Anyway...


So I am setting Thanksgiving up in true steveshaikus style, I asked Smeagol to come and then called my sister and assured her he would not be there, and also invited a few other people that wily raptor owes cold hard cash to. I think things will turn out really well.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

First, and I do not say this lightly, I have to comment on last night. I am a STAUNCH Obama supporter. I would let him put his finger inside me. Well maybe after a couple of cosmos, but you get the idea. The main reason besides his message made angels weep tears of happiness? McCain never said what his stances on anything were. He spent the whole time insulting Obama, which would have been funny but his insults were stupid.

Having said that, McCain's concession speech last night was quite possibly the most beautiful, eloquent, and seemingly heartfelt sincere thing I have ever heard. I saw not an old guy who was angry some punk negro was stealing his hubcaps/ election, but an old guy who loved his country deeply, as we all know he must since he helped build it. I am not in the least bit ashamed to say I watched it in it's entirety, and while I did not cry, I did stop masturbating to http://www.grannytranny.com for a few seconds, as his words flowed like jisms down an especially moist back pussy after happy time hand reliefs.

Anyway, part II of the Richie Rich Saga.

So there I am, picking up McDonald's off the ground, and this asshat is rambling on about God knows what with no teeth I can't really understand his primitive but beautiful language, until I get everything bagged up and just walk away from him and into the house. I am standing inside, and it's strange, I can still hear that asshat! Amd I goin insane? I stick my finger in my rectum to make sure, and no, all is well. I wipe my finger on the dog and go back outside, and he is still standing in my driveway, facing my front door, talking away!

Let's start with a relatively short tale:

So RR had just moved in with his wife, Behemoth, known as such not for her huge hulking figure, but more for the amount of hair that sticks out of her shirt and armpits and chin. I had just gotten my black belt, and had just finished kicking the front door off of the hinges, which was terrible because to this day the door still doesn't work.

Anyway, later on my wife is telling the neighbors what I had done, and RR ambles over, gums on
full display. I give you, a moron. Observe:

"Yeah I used to take karate, I got kicked out of the school because I beat up my instructor, and he didn't want me taking over his class."

I kid you not. This moron said that while we all stood there. The silence, as we tried to take in his retardation, was palpable. Time to change the subject. I start talking about work at da Firm, and Greyskull's penchant for devouring kitten souls. At this point I still did not know about what a loser RR was, so I foolishly stopped long enough to take a break. Big mistake:

"I used to work in a warehouse and I made 70000 dollars a year. I got fired because the manager was afraid I would take his job and run the whole place", and with that, without asking if anyone else cared, he lit up a cigarette and blew breath that can best be described in a monologue, by Samuel Jackson:

"The shit was BAAAAD, muthafuckah!"

Thanks, Samuel, anyway, everyone kind of dispursed at that point, and I think that day RR fell in love with my wife a little bit, as that is the only explanation I can come up with for his bothering me more than anyone else in the area.

More tomorrow.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Movin' On up to da East Siiiide!

Corrugated shank
muffled yelps; some poop falls out
prison's a bad place


So we moved.

The time had finally come, this past weekend, to bid lovely Ferrelview, with it's trailer park of doom, high concentration of sex offenders and penchant for harassing anyone brave enough to risk passing the police at the speed limit, a final adieu and move on to greener pastures.

I remember it like it was about 3 weeks ago, when my lovely wife was, as is our usual configuration, sitting on the edge of the tub bothering me with her questions and idle chatter while I tried to take a shit. I specifically informed her, that "no matter what, the ONLY STIPU-FUCKIN-LATION I had was that we needed to either stay in the area we were in or move slightly West, as I was not willing to drive a whole lot farther to go to work. You can all see where this is going, and those of you lucky enough to know my wife (whether you worked with her or had the terrible misfortune of sitting opposite her at a Charlie Murphy comedy special (I still feel bad about that)) know that once she has her mind made up everything else is simply beeps and clicks; my most fervent arguments are simply tiny speedbumps on her journey to completely neuter me and somehow make me gay.

So instead of even bothering to look at the many very nice homes I found in Platte City, Gladstone, Leavenworth, Basehor, and Compton (I keep hearing good things about this corner called Florence and Normandy, great things), she said the only home she wanted was in Smithville. And I, being a sad, broken man, spent my weekend moving all manner of gay/heavy thing into this pink house. Fuck my life.

Actually, it is a pretty nice home, and was at first a rent-to-own, but is now (I think since I am black) a lease-with option to buy, where we lease for a year while they look for less Africanized tenants, presumably, and then We can buy the house. It is a nice 4 bed, 3 bath place that looks completely out of place for either me or my Escort of Flava. I do enjoy the 3 shitters though, it really increases the opportunities for me to toilet shop in my own home, which is nice.

Anyway, we are packing the U-Haul up, and over comes RR. RR is short for Richie Rich, and is as close to a white version of Smeagol as genetics would allow. He is about 30, has absolutely 0 teeth, is a failure in everything he does, and is so annoying my other neighbors pretend to not be home so as not to have to talk to him.

This damn loser is known to be competing for the coveted title of "Roach King", so called because of the awesomeness of the infestation at their abode.

RR is very close to being the complete winner, he only has to make that final push. He is not my neighbor, he lives across the street, but he has been seen with numerous roaches crawling around in his hair, in his shirt, his wife has been seen outside shaking clothes and carpets out, flinging huge, live, pregnant cockroaches toward the next door neighbors (who I like) and has been seen with them in her hair as well. Now I usually cannot complain, we had ants during the summer which are almost impossible to get rid of, but when you start fearing the ant population is going to go down because you know the raging hordes of roaches are now coming to your domicile, things get hairy.

Anyway, outside of these charming qualities, he is also the most annoying person on the planet, yes more annoying than Smeagol. I have a few stories on him, but this one is probably the sassiest. I had had a shitty day, what with having to work and all, and k-rat did not go well either, because Karawte Man was trying to do....something, I will not go so far as to say he was attempting anything even coming close to actual karate at that point, as all he was doing was attempting to punch, failing miserably, then asking what I would do if someone superglued my body to the ground and a volcano erupted under me while impending Nazi Panzer tanks fires shells directly into my anus and all of my limbs were gone due to an unfortunate smelting accident and blah blah blah.

I had just attained some delicious McDonald's, and was looking forward to watching some hokey kung fu films whilst my boys ate to try to lift my spirits.

It was a windy night, a detail you will want to keep in mind for later. I am getting my kids out of the car, and stupidly placed the bags on top that were holding my dinner. Well, a gust of wind finished out my bad karma for the night, and knocked my sandwiches, fries and drink all over the driveway, which my dog had shit on only minutes before. The kids' food was fine, as it was in happy meals. As I get down on my knees, yes forgetting the dog had shit and getting it on my fucking knee, RR moseys over, with his "so what's going on in your world" shit. RR is INCREDIBLY fucking nosey, and a gossip, just like smeagol. His wife is hideous, just like Smeagol's. He cheated on his wife, gave her STD's and left her when she had the kids, only moving in when she finally got a place of her own, which he ran into the ground in 2 weeks. Sound familiar?

So I am really not in the mood, and he is standing there rambling on about how he got fired from Subway because the manager was afraid of him because he worked so much faster than him, blah blah blah watching me and still rambling on like a leech attached to an asshole: getting fuller and fuller of shit by the second but unable to disengage.

Part fucking II tomorrow, or in like 6 months, you all know my track record by now.