Mancation…STOP THIS!

For the love of god, stop this “mancation” bullshit. Just because you’re male and going on a vacation, it does not mean you’re on a fucking mancation. You know…just stop combining words, you morons. You aren’t creative, you aren’t smart, and you aren’t being original. Unless it’s something like the unholy offspring of a coyote and an owl, there is no reason to make two words a smoosh into one.

From here on out, every time I hear someone use the term “mancation” I am going to take a huge dump on a newborn puppy and light a baby on fire. Yes, both, not just one, but both. If the person is close enough to me, I am first going to gut them and dump their body in an allyway. It’s going to be so frightening, the new guys will be puking their brains out while the detectives will hug every single child they meet from that day on, just to remind themselves things aren’t as bad as they think it is.

“What do you think happened here, man?”

“Well, his stomach has been ripped out and his tongue was pulled down from his throat, out the hole, and then shoved up his ass. The penis has been cut off, a stick making it erect, and shoved up his throat to make it look like a tongue. The eyeballs have been removed and glued to his head…”

“Best guess?”

“Yep, this dumbass used the term ‘mancation’. He got what he deserved. Justifiable homicide. No arrests are going to be needed. Let’s go get a pizza.”

That is how common it’ll become if you idiots keep using these moronic terms. Cops are going to take one look at the brutality and just not be affected by it anymore should this term become a household term. I will never be prosecuted even this day in age. I’ll just tell me, “Mancation was used!” and they’ll give me a fucking parade.

A mancation isn’t a bunch of guys going out on vacation. A mancation isn’t taking a trip to see family. A mancation isn’t going on a small trip with you buddies. A real mancation is doing something manly. Here’s a small example of what would should and shouldn’t be referenced as a fucking “mancation”.

Climb Mt. Everest with just a few guidesMANLY!
That would be a mancation. Climbing a 24K’ peak with no friends and just a few guides to make sure your dead body comes down the mountain is manly and can be considered a mancation. Hiking around a state park like Mt. Shasta is not a the same thing.

Deep sea dive into a newly discovered shipwreckMANLY!
Yes! This is MANLY! Extra bonus points for diving into a wreck thought lost hundreds of years ago and you helped to recently discovery it. This would be a mancation. However, if you’re doing it for a job, then it’s not a mancation.

Touring rose gardensBITCH STATUS!
This is NOT a mancation! I don’t give a damn if the gardens have taken months to grow into elaborate designs. There is nothing manly about flowers, unless you’re burning down a botanical garden.

Bull fight trainingMANLY!
Sure, if it’s not your job and you’re spending a few weeks learning how to become a bull fighter for no reason other than interest. Again, if it’s your job, it’s not a mancation. If it’s just one of your stops, it’s not a mancation…unless the vacation stops detail other things such as the next thing…

Sex tourMANLY!
Yep, this is manly and is therefore considered a mancation. If you’re a woman doing this, then it’s a slutcation, which isn’t quite the same thing.

Vegas trip with “the boys”NOT MANLY!*
Just going to Las Vegas with your friends to drink, do drugs, and gamble is not manly. Everyone does it.

*Now, if you’re going to Las Vegas with the plan of killing a hooker or two or three, knocking up every stripper in two strip clubs, locking a tiny Asian in a car trunk only to leave him in the desert to die, all the while firing off fully automatic firearms over a residential neighborhood…now that would be manly and classifiable as a mancation.

Going huntingNOT MANLY ENOUGH!
Going hunting isn’t a mancation…it’s just a camping trip with guns and killing an animal. That’s not manly enough to be a mancation. Plenty of men do it and women, too. If you’re going lion hunting with only a knife…well, that’s mancation worthy.

Road trip from anywhere to anywhereNOT MANLY!
No, taking a road trip, even by motorcycle, is not a mancation! You’re just driving or riding your motorcycle. Big fucking deal.

Horse back trip from one state to the next without using main roadsMANLY!
Traveling on horseback from one state to another, and maybe even more, is manly. Dealing with the constant butt rash alone is enough to classify this as manly. If you’re doing this as part of a job or some bullshit dude ranch tour, then it’s not a mancation. It’s also not a mancation if you have a ton of store bought mixes. No, you must get your supplies together and go way off the populated paths and stay off of them until you reach your destination.

Calling something a mancationNEGATES ALL POSSIBLE MANCATIONS STATUS!
Just because you call something a mancation doesn’t make it a mancation. Matter of fact, if you call something a mancation, you instantly make it a bitchcation. Period.
 
 
I could go on, but my head hurts and I need to skin a newborn.

Love advice from Love Guru Sunrie

Do you have love problems?  Do you have problems finding love?  Do you have problems just trying to understand how to do things?  Well, fear not!  For Guru Sunrie shall assist you in your love’s labour’s lost!  Unlike others out on the Internet, I am not charging you a single fraction of currency for this type of help.  I do this as a service of love and not a service of profit.

Not long ago I requested everyone on Xanga and on several other sites to send me their love problems so that I may help them.  I have finally been able to compile the answers to the most serious of all the questions.  Worry not, readers, for I have changed the names of all who submitted their problems.  Without further adieu, let’s begin!


Craig’s List Love
From: Wanky Panky
Help me out!

I’m a huge pervert, and so under pseduonyms, I posted ways to contact me for like minded people. I get a message from a guy, saying that his ex is a nympho. Loves sex. She has a boyfriend, but still fools around with him. She just can’t get enough. Heres the problem:  She tells him he should get guys from the internet for her. Turns out, I’m the first guy that he messaged, that is in the area, and isn’t a creep. She looks great, (great pics!) and they’d like to set up a meeting, (In a public place) where we all get to know each other. If things go well, and she likes me, I get to have lots of perverted sex with her.

So, should I go along with it? Or do you think its just a gay guy? Or are they going to rob me? (I have nothing to lose, except my pride.) Please, please, help me Dr. Sunrie.

Reply:
I thought you said they were looking for someone who wasn’t a creep?  Sounds pretty creepy to me. But, hey, I’ve been told that a guy spanking a Pikachu doll while drunk and naked shouldn’t judge.

I’d say send a friend in your place and watch from a distance.  That way, if they are looking to cut off his balls instead of letting him have sex with her, you can just pretend it’s a reality sex show…and you keep your balls.  If he does get some, then you can join in next time!


Milk Maid Love
From: Nonny
I met a girl at milk bar, but she looked at me like I was an idiot for coming to a bar that serves milk. So I followed her outside, we talked, and then we became girl friend and boy friend…

2 months later…We are still dating but she is acting as if I am not around.  What’s wrong?

Reply:
You’re obviously spending too much time with her.  Start ignoring her and go out with your friends instead.  Then, when she asks why you aren’t spending any time with her, simply let her know that you lost interest after trying to get her attention.  That or just screw her bestfriend/sister.  That’ll teach her.


Friend Zone
From:
Lovey Dovey Girl
i need some help this guy likes me & he keep’s flritng w/ me but he is going out w/ my friend & i told her wt he was doing but she just lafe at me & said “thats a good 1” but she did tell him to stop w/e he was doing………..i like him to & he’s cute & he just called me becaues she broke up w/ him 4 that but he only does it w/ me she said……so i dont no wt to do because he will proble ask me out tomarro! PLEZ HELP!

Reply:
Well, all you have to do is call him and say you’re naked when he gets there.  If he shows up, you know he likes you.  If he doesn’t…well he’s gay.


Dumping Ground
From: Junebug
A boy dumped me, and now is saying things that make it seem like he thinks we’re dating. How do I inform him that we aren’t dating, and haven’t been since he dumped me, without causing massive drama?

Reply:
Stop having sex with him.  That pretty much puts a complete stop to everything.  Don’t pretend you aren’t still screwing, either.


Harry and his Hendersons
From:
Not a Metro
I have been dating this girl for about 6 months now and we have a wonderful relationship. But she doesnt like that Im all hairy, she wants me to shave my back, chest, and…. well you know. Im not a fag, and I like being a manly man, but she wont have sex with me until I do. What should I do?

Reply:
I’m going to have to side with her on this one.  No one wants to sleep with a bear no matter what the supposed lesson of “Girl Sleeps with Beasts 3” porn wanted to teach you.

However, I’m not so sure you should be going shaving your junk.  I mean, that’s a mark of pride right there.  She should be rather proud of your man-mane.  Also, there’s little more painful than knicking the ‘ole alien brain, if you know what I mean.  Look at it this way: You’ll swim faster, run faster, and even slide out of bed easier.  Just don’t remove your lion’s hair.  Don’t want to look French or anything.  Lastly, you can’t be a big manly-man without having sex; so keep that in mind!


Handcuffs are Rings, Too
From:
Wed Locked
Here’s my situation. I’m married now.  Help me!

Reply:
Oh man…I’m sorry to hear that.  My only suggestion to you is role playing.  Yes, role playing.  I’m not talking about just any RP, I’m talking true to life, live action.  When she comes in wearing her sexy little genie outfit, put on your mage’s hat and robe, then cast level three sexuality on her.  You won’t be sorry.


Wishy Washy Wuv
From:
Red Almight
I need your advice..There is this girl I like who I get along with really well..I’ve talked to her about going out..But she seems to want to change the subject..But the thing is, Her freind tells me she likes me..Please..What in gods name am I supposed to do!?

Reply:
Fuck her friend.  That’ll teach the bitch.


The Ink is Permanent
From:
Worcester Sauce
Okay. I was with a girl for nearly 4 years (I was 11 when I met her), I promised her one day I would get a tattoo of her name somewhere on my body. So, on my 15th Birthday I decided to keep to my end of the bargain and got the tattoo, high up on the top meaty part of my thigh.

Obviously most relationships end on a sour note, and ours was no exception. We split, I wanted her back badly. I nagged and nagged and eventually gave up all hope. About 2 months after my ‘giving up’ she come’s back to me and tell’s me she want’s to give it another shot, I tell her to fuck off and we fall out of friendship as well as love.

Present day, I’m 19 and I still love her dearly. I still have the tattoo (which is three letters long ‘PEP’ short for Pepita. Feel free to make the Salt on one leg and pepper on the other joke). Problem is she aint at all bothered and only thinks of me as a mate. Should I get the bad boy covered up and move on? Should I continue having meaningless drunken one night stands? Or should I ask her father to sell her to me for a bag of magic beans?

Reply:
Cover it up and move on, are you kidding me?  This is your chance to get the tail you could only beg for, my friend.  This is a sure fire way to find out if the next woman is going to be worth it.  I am talking about, of course, an exciting threesome.  If the girl thinks it’s hot or sweet that you have her name on your leg, time to start asking about her sister or her best friend joining you both in the bedroom.  Remember to send me pictures.


Dirty Deeds
From:
Honker
Sunrie! Help! My girlfriend is mad at me because I told all my friends about us doing it in the “dirty” hole…you know…the dark ally in the back…  How can I calm her down?!

Reply:
Allow me to congratulate you on hitting her in the shitter.  Easiest way is to stick a cock in her mouth.  Otherwise, just dump her.  I mean, you already punched in her backdoor, so what more could there be?


There you have it from the mouth of a true master.  Remember, whether you think you can or you think you can’t, you’re right!


Posted 2/18/2013 at 12:34 AM Xanga

Sultons of Sex with Osh and Gosh: Transcript 2

—The following is a partial transcript from the radio show “Sultans of Sex with Osh and Gosh” —

Gosh:
Hellllooooo, listeners!

Osh:
Yes, what’s up, our loyal minions.  You’re listening to Sultans of Sex with Osh and Gosh.  As if you didn’t know, I’m Osh.

Gosh:
So that obviously makes me Gosh.  Dr. Modjucawk won’t be joining us tonight.  I know, I know, it’s not a big deal.  I’m sure you’re as relieved as I am.

Osh:
What the hell is the problem between you two, anyway?

Gosh:
Philosophical differences, that’s all.

Osh:
Phili…what?!  We’ve never talked about philosophies on this program.

Gosh:
Look, if hanging out at the mall oggling jailbait and then masturbating about it later is wrong, I don’t give a damn to be right!

Osh:
Dude!

Gosh:
Moving on…

Osh:
Yes…good idea…  Like the Amber Alert here said, Dr. Modjucawk will not be with us.  In his place, we have behavioral specialist, Professor Hugh Morris.

Prof. Morris:
Thank you, guys, great to be here, thanks for having me!

Gosh:
Oh, you haven’t been had just yet, Professor.

Prof. Morris:
You know, Gosh, your obsession with sex doesn’t so much as intrigue me as it does have me concerned for you over your past.  Were you inappropriately touched when you were a child?

*five seconds of dead air*

*laughing from both Osh and Prof. Morris is heard as Gosh begins talking*

Gosh:
So, first caller, your name is Joann, from Austin, Texas.  For the record, it wasn’t inappropriate!

Joann:
Heeeey, guuuuys.

*Osh, Gosh, and Prof. Morris all speak at the same time*

Gosh:
Hey! Yeah, wow!

Osh:
Heeeeey yourself!

Prof. Morris:
Well, hello, Joann!

Joann:
Thanks.  It’s nice to actually get through to talk to you.  Um…yeah, so I have a few questions.

Osh:
Well, you only get one.  So what one do you REALLY want an answer to?

Gosh:
Yeah, yeah, yeah, because if we let everyone ask whatever and however many they wanted, it would be their show and not ours.

Joann:
Yeah, well, umm…okay…  I guess I should ask the important one.

Prof. Morris:
Okay, if I may?  Not that it matters here.

*Osh and Gosh can be heard laughing*

Prof. Morris:
This is obviously something bothering you and you’re embarrassed about it or else you wouldn’t be taking so long to ask it.  Come on.  Out with it.

*Joann can be heard sighing*

Joann:
Okay, so I finally did something with my boyfriend that we shouldn’t have probably done in the first place over a vacation and I know what it means to me, and …

*Gosh can be heard half-whispering in the background*

Gosh:
He so got laid!

Joann:
… I don’t know what it means to him, but to me …

*Osh can be heard half-whispering in the background*

Osh:
This chick is a whiner…

Joann:
… it means that he’ll actually propose.

Osh:
Joann…that isn’t a question.

Gosh:
Yeah, no kidding.  A question goes UP at the end.

*Prof. Morris can be heard with a moderately hard laugh*

Joann:
Up?  I don’t get it…  What does that mean?

*Osh and Gosh can be heard laughing very hard in the background*

Prof. Morris:
While my friends here have a conniption fit, let me explain what it probably means to him.  Obviously to you, it’s something you take very seriously and you’d only do it with someone you believe will be around forever, right?

Joann:
Right…

Prof. Morris:
Right.  Okay, well men are hard wired for sex, that much is pretty obvious to everyone.  Women, however, have all these emotions and ideals tied into it these days.  The point here is, it was an end to the work he put in.

Joann:
Oh…so, is he like going to …

Gosh:
Joann!

Joann:
… leave me now?

Gosh:
JOANN!

Joann:
…yes?

Prof. Morris:
Hold on there, Gosh.  Joann, how old are you?

Joann:
Seventeen…

Prof. Morris:
Okay, seriously, especially at that age, what a guys is looking …

Joann:
All we did was make out…

Gosh:
Excuse me?

Osh:
Seriously?!

Joann:
Well, I mean, I don’t just make out with anyone!

*three seconds of silence*

Joann:
Um…hello?

Prof. Morris:
No, we’re still here, Joann.  You’ve lived a sheltered life, haven’t you?

Joann:
Well…yeah, I mean, I just was moved down from a small town of twenty people up in the mountains a year ago.

*Osh, Gosh, and Prof. Morris all groan and laugh a little*

Prof. Morris:
Okay, then even more so, Joann.  Don’t worry about it.  I’m sure you’re fine.

Osh:
And I’m sure you’ll be pregnant in a week.

Joann:
Oh god!  Is that how it happens?!

*caller is hang up on*

Gosh:
ENOUGH!  Sorry to hang up on her…no, you know what?  Forget it, I’m NOT sorry.  I can’t take anymore from her.

Osh:
Okay, Prof. Morris, I gotta ask you…what’s up with people that shelter their children like that.

Prof. Morris:
These are generally people who had made a lot of mistakes in their own life and believe that by keeping their children in a little, windowless box, as it were, they will be better off for it and not make those same mistakes.

Gosh:
So, basically, whores.

Prof. Morris:
Uh, no, actually.  While there is no reason to believe that keeping your children sheltered from certain things will do them harm, there’s evidence to prove that other things children are exposed to will do them good.

Osh:
Okay, we’re done with this serious stuff.  Let’s take another caller.  Welcome to the Sultan’s of Sex!  James, I think it is.  You’re thirty five from Brick, New Jersey.  How are you, buddy?

James:
I’m actually doing great, guys!  How about you all?

Prof. Morris:
We’re doing fine here.  What is it that you need?

James:
Well, like you said, I’m thirty five.  I think I’m pretty good looking and …

Gosh:
It doesn’t matter what you think.

James:
What’s that?

Osh:
Nothing, James, continue.

James:
Yeah, so I met this little twenty year old hottie and she bangs like a god damn mink.

Gosh:
Hey, whoa, watch the language.  So what’s the problem?

James:
Oh, there’s no problem, I’m just telling EVERYONE.

*caller hangs up*

*Osh, Gosh, and Prof. Morris all laugh really hard as the caller hangs up*

Prof. Morris:
Do you want to know why that is so great to him?

Osh:
No, I’m sure that I can figure that one out.

*Prof. Morris laughs*

*Osh speaks in a bad New Jersey accent*

Osh:
Stinking, mook.

Gosh:
So, who else do we have on the line?

Prof. Morris:
Oh, I like this one.  Chris!

Chris:
Uh, hello?

Prof. Morris:
Yes, hello, Chris!  It says here that you think you might be a furry.

Chris:
Yeah, I’m starting to feel that way.

Gosh:
Hold on…what in the hell is a furry?  Like…a really hairy Italian?

Osh:
What have I told you about making fun of the dago-wops, Gosh?

Chris:
No, it’s someone who likes…well…

Prof. Morris:
Let me explain this one, Chris.  Imagine the hottest female you can, Gosh.

Gosh:
Done…and I’m getting a raging boner.

Prof. Morris:
Okay, good!  Good!

Gosh:
Not really, my pants are getting really, really short.

*Osh can be heard laughing in the background*

Prof. Morris:
Now, picture that women has all the same features and curves, but is actually a human sized and proportioned llama.

*there is two seconds of silence*

Gosh:
And my pants fit better once again.

Chris:
Well, I’m not actually into the llamas.

Osh:
Uh…good?  Why do you think that you might be a furry?

Gosh:
No, seriously, I think I just threw up a little.

Chris:
You don’t have to be rude about this!

Gosh:
Oh, I absolutely DO have to.  The reason …

*the sound of a hand being placed over a microphone is heard*

Prof. Morris:
Ignore him, Chris.  Go ahead and answer the question.

Chris:
Well, I saw a few of the drawings and I got turned on.  Now when I look for porn, I’m looking up the fur fetish.

Gosh:
So, let me get this straight…you want to nail an animal?

Chris:
No, it’s not like that.

Gosh:
Bull *censor beep*, man!  You’re looking up pictures of animals that look like humans to justify your bestiality!

Prof. Morris:
In a way, yes, but not exactly.

Osh:
Prof. Morris, don’t try to explain this one to Gosh.  It’s just not going to happen.

Chris:
It’s something that just started, too.  I haven’t always wanted to look at it and it wasn’t something that I actively looked for before.

Osh:
You know what?  There’s actually someone here who’s had an encounter with someone who was into this.

Prof. Morris:
Really?

Gosh:
Oh, god no…

Prof. Morris:
What’s going on?  Who?

Osh:
Is he here?  Yes?  Hey, come on in here, Bob.

Bob the Angry Midget:
Prepare for an ass raping!  It’s Bob, the angry midget!  How you *censor beep* doing?

Gosh:
Seriously?  Bob, you’ve had a bestiality experience?

Bob the Angry Midget:
No, you sloppy puto.  It was this hot chick I met in a bar.  She was a real freak.  Like banging a pampas bull, man.

Osh:
So, you’ve banged bulls?

Bob the Angry Midget:
*censor beep* you, man!  I’m just using that as an example for your little freak parade here.

Prof. Morris:
Is there a point to all of this?

Bob the Angry Midget:
Don’t question me, maggot!  I may be an angry wee person, but I will *censor beep* your mom and your sister in front of you!

*Osh and Gosh can be heard laughing extremely hard*

Prof. Morris:
Good lord…

Bob the Angry Midget:
Anyway, so it was this chick who was all freaky as hell, right?  I knew she liked it because she kept screaming like a cat in a stretcher, right?  Things were going great, but then started with this, “*censor beep* me like a pony!  *censor beep* me like a pony!”

Gosh:
…you’ve got to be kidding…

Bob the Angry Midget:
Hell no, bitch!  Listen to what I’m saying!  I was all like, “Damn right!”  It was all fine and I was just going with it.  It only got weird when I put the saddle on her and rode her around her living room from behind.

*Osh, Gosh, Prof. Morris and Chris can all be heard laughing*

Bob the Angry Midget:
It was like the wheel barrow, but she had a saddle on her back and bit in her mouth.  I normally talk about grabbing a chicks’ hair and using it like reigns…but I actually had a hold of some reigns!

Gosh:
Okay, okay…I guess it can’t be all that bad, then.

Bob the Angry Midget:
She was insane, but had a snatch like velvet candy!  Everyone has to afford baby formula some how!

*Osh, Gosh, Prof. Morris and Chris can be heard laughing again*

Prof. Morris:
Now that we all have a better understanding of…well, Bob’s sex life …

Bob the Angry Midget:
You don’t know the *censor beep* half of that *censor beep*, queer!

*Osh, Gosh, and Chris can be heard laughing*

Prof. Morris:
Okay, okay, okay!  Anyway, it’s probably just a phase you’re going through, Chris.  You’re still finding yourself and what gets you going.  There are a lot of websites and furry meets for you to attend to see if it’s something that you are actually into.

Chris:
Thanks, Prof. Morris.  Thanks Osh, thanks Gosh!

*caller hangs up*

Bob the Angry Midget:
What a prick!  He didn’t thank me!  I usually sell those stories to sex sites and I gave it to him for free.  *censor beep* you, Chris!  If you ever have a daughter, I will *censor beep* her in front of you!

Osh:
Well, I think it’s time for a commercial.  Coming up, more calls…duh!

*musical bump featuring “Animal I Have Become” by Three Days Grace begins*

Bob the Angry Midget:
I’m outta here, bitches.  Just let me know if you need more of my brain power!

*musical bump slowly fades out as commercial break begins*

*musical bump featuring “My Band” by D12 featuring Eminem slowly fades in*

Gosh:
You’re listening to Sultans of Sex with Osh and Gosh here on W-ASS, the only FM Talk Radio, 169.9 on your FM Dials.

*musical bump fades out*

Prof. Morris:
During the break we all started talking about the Japanese cartoons, hentai they call it, with all the fetishes because of the last caller.

Osh:
Hey, don’t knock it, man.  At least they are pretty open with all that.

Prof. Morris:
Actually, the Japanese …

Gosh:
BORING!  Let’s take a call.  Eeny, Meeny, Miny…MOE!  What’s going on!

Caller:
Are you talking to me?

Gosh:
No, I’m talking to Casper.

Caller:
Oh, sorry, I’m not Casper.

*caller hangs up*

Osh:
…I swear some of our callers hurt my brain.

Prof. Morris:
That might be a tumor.

Gosh:
Okay, caller, I’m talking directly to you, Sarah.

Sarah:
Hey, thanks guys.

Prof. Morris:
Hello, Sarah.  What’s your issue?

Sarah:
Well, I just moved in with my long term boyfriend.  We had been dating for around a year and didn’t have sex before last week…and his mom kind of walked in on us…

Gosh:
HA!  That’s gotta be as awkward for her as it is had you walked in on her having sex with her dude.

Sarah:
Yeah, it was, but what was weird is that my boyfriend looked back and saw her, but then turned back to me and just kept going, like it never even happened.

Osh:
Hey, that’s pretty impressive.  Most people would drop to at least half stalk when that happens.

Sarah:
…yeah…I guess..?

Gosh:
Wait…so why did his mom have access to you both?

Sarah:
Oh, he lives at home right now.  He lost his job about six months back.

Gosh:
Okay, this guy is a hero.  So you’ve been dating for around a year, he’s been unemployed for six months of that year, and moved back in with his parents.  After which time you also moved in with him AND had sex with him?

Sarah:
Basically…yeah…

Osh:
Wow.  Umm…huh…

*Gosh can be heard clapping in the background*

Prof. Morris:
What is it that you’re concerned with?  Did it crush your sex drive or something?

*caller is heard with a broken connection*

Sarah:
Well, I tho…an…strange he wou…don’t you think?

Gosh:
Sarah, Sarah, Sarah.  Hold on.  You broke up really bad there for a second.  Are you on a cell phone?

Sarah:
Yeah, I’m in the garage in the back of his car listening to you guys and kind of hiding to make the call.

Osh:
Okay.  That explains that.  Can you say all that again?

Sarah:
I was just saying it’s strange that he’d keep going.  Don’t you think?

Prof. Morris:
I’ll take it, guys.  Stop looking at me like that, Gosh.

*Osh and Gosh can be heard laughing in the background*

Prof. Morris:
To address your concern, yes, it’s definitely strange he’d keep going at you knowing his mother was watching.  Was it like a quick glance and she left or what?

Sarah:
No, and that’s the other thing that’s bothering me.  She stood there for what seemed like forever.  I’m sure it was only about ten seconds or so, but she was actually watching as he stared at her.

Gosh:
Okay, I threw up a little again.

Osh:
Sarah?

Sarah:
Yeah?

Osh:
What’s the phone number?

Sarah:
What phone number?

Osh:
To his mom’s place, because she’s a freak that obviously needs it.

*Sarah laughs a little bit*

Sarah:
Oh, that’s sick.

Prof. Morris:
There’s a little happier tone!  Well, it may be nothing to him.  Maybe he’s a little bit of an exhibitionist and you’re just noticing.  Maybe he has had that happen a few times in the past.  Just talk to him about it.

Sarah:
That’s all you got to suggest?

Prof. Morris:
What else do you want?  That he’s having sex with his mom?  I can’t make that call from the limited information.  What I can suggest is that you both get your own place.  At least you should get your own place.  It’s just not healthy.  Okay?

Sarah:
Okay…thanks for whatever…

*caller hangs up*

Gosh:
I think she should just have a three way with them both.

Osh:
DUDE!!!

Prof. Morris:
I agree, that’s just nasty, Gosh.

Osh:
Although, in his defense, I think that a three way with the freaky mom and Sarah would be just fine if it were me and not the son.

Prof. Morris:
Now I know why Dr. Modjucawk took a few days off.

*Prof. Morris laughs*

Osh:
Let’s go to the next call…Oh, and it says that it’s an emergency.

Gosh:
Hey, go ahead, what’s going on that’s so important?

Caller:
I need assistance at Paco’s on the corner of Lincoln and Colefax!

Prof. Morris:
Wait, what?

Caller:
They stole my damn dollars and won’t give me my damn tacos!

Osh:
Tacos?  What are you talking about?

Caller:
What did I say?  I want my dollar and my tacos!

Prof. Morris:
You…you’re having a problem with your taco?

Gosh:
Like…a pink taco?  The sloppy taco?

Caller:
The proprietor here…he took my damn money, refused to make my taco, and he kept my money!

Osh:
Okay, so a problem with a regular taco.

Caller:
The owner, bitch!

Osh, Gosh, Prof. Morris:
Whoa, whoa!

Caller:
I’m sorry.  I’m pissed off!

Prof. Morris:
Just calm down and tell us what’s going on.

Caller:
Aren’t you listening to me?!  I told you!  You aren’t listening to anything I’ve said!

Gosh:
Is this serious?

Caller:
Of course this is serious!  Are you going to help me or not?  Get your fat ass down here and help me out!

Osh:
First of all, my ass is not fat, and secondly, my ass is staying in the air conditioned station.

Caller:
Oh, so now you’re not going to help me!

*Osh, Gosh, and Prof. Morris can be heard laughing in the background*

Prof. Morris:
We’re trying to help you, but we need to know what’s going on and some information.  Where are you?

Caller:
I told you were I am!  What did I just say?!

Osh:
I know, I know, but tell me slower.  What’s your name as well?

Caller:
WHAT?!  I don’t have to give you that *censor beep*, bitch!

Gosh:
Ha!  Okay, what was actually wrong with the taco?

Caller:
That bean dog mother *censor beep* refused to give it to me!  He also won’t give me my money back!

Osh:
Well that ain’t right.

Caller:
No it ain’t!  My house is locked up, you mother *censor beep* Jew!  I only got one dollar and thirty five cents, and he took it!  Are you coming or not?

Gosh:
Uh…huh…um…well, as far as we’re concerned you can get whatever taco you want…even a chaco-taco.

Caller:
Good!  Now get down here and don’t send me no niggers.

*two seconds of silence*

Caller:
Hello?!

Gosh:
You mean you don’t want a black dude coming out there?

Caller:
That’s right!  I know some nigger is going to steal from me, too.  They have no respect for strong black women and will steal from me just like this pepper-gut!

Prof. Morris:
Lady, you need therapy.

Caller:
*censor beep* YOU!  If you won’t help, I’ll just do it myself!

*caller forcefully hangs up*

*Gosh can heard taking a deep sigh*

Osh:
Did she want the cops?  Did she think that she called the non-emergency number or something?

Gosh:
I need a really strong shower after that call.

*musical bump featuring Cupid Shuffle by Cupid fades in*

Osh:
I think we need a commercial.

Prof. Morris:
I completely agree, boys.

*musical bump fades out as commercial break begins*

—End Transcript—

Posted 6/9/2010 at 5:46 PM

Marriage is not in my future


Run!

I really wish people would quit telling me to not say I won’t get married and that marriage is not in my future.  It’s one of those things that pisses me off about people even more.

First off, I’m not really interested in marriage.  Marriage is called an institution…so is the state correctional facility.  I group the two together as I see them much the same.  I’m not really in to the idea of making sure with someone instead of just taking off on my motorcycle, a spontaneous fishing or hunting trip, or whither or not dropping four hundred bucks on the newest game system with new games is something that would be appreciated.

I’m also a very difficult person to get along with most of the time.  Not necessarily on purpose, but even my friends would agree with that statement.  I’m intentionally brash with people, have an easy temper (though I am slow into violence unless it is absolutely necessary), and I am the owner of a very strong Type A personality.  Seriously, I’m just an asshole and I rejoice in that fact.

All the crap people do through the dating, to the wedding, and then when they’re married is not something I want to be involved with.  My own past dating experiences suck as it is.  The people I see married are never very happy.  I mean like never.  Sure they have their moments, but most of the time they are on each other’s nerves.  Don’t give me the b.s. that only “happy and comfortable couples” fight.  Gee, if that’s happy and comfortable, I’ll stick with nailing random women who I never see again after a night or two.  At least I don’t have to deal with that.  I’ve also heard that, “Marriage is dealing with someone else’s crap.  That’s just what you do!”  Oh, really?  Thanks for the heads up so I can keep the hell out of there.

Now, along the lines of all that, is the fact that I can barely stand people for any length of time.  I’m slow to make friends, on purpose, and most of the women I meet are good for a short bit of company.  There have been a few who I did attempt to make a lasting partnership worked, but that just wasn’t going to happen.

Some people just aren’t marrying material.  I was once asked about a certain person, “What makes you think you aren’t her type?”  To which I easily answered, “I’m nobody’s type.”  As I’ve been told, is as I believe: I will always be alone, but not necessarily lonely.  I accept it, so you should, too.

You’ll regret keeping me around!

Posted 6/7/2010 at 8:15 PM on Xanga

Consult your doctor before sex…really?

There are quite a few times when you should consult your doctor. For instance, you should probably consult your doctor if it looks like the Fortress of Solitude is growing on your shaft. That’s probably herpes. Another time you should consult your doctor is if after taking a long fall your foot is spun backwards. You probably bruised your ankle.

Now doctors want us to consult them for other reasons. One of those reasons is consulting them to make sure it’s “okay” for you to have sexual activity. Yes, seriously. As if doctors weren’t getting people into their offices to pay for their boats often enough. You mostly hear the comment that you should seek out your doctor before engaging in sex for commercials trying to sell you hard-on pills. If you have to take woody tablets, then “risking” sex is the least of your problems.

Let’s face it, going to the doctor and telling them that you can’t get a boner seeing a hot naked chick is embarrassing enough. Oh, and yes, I’m going to keep referring to men looking at hot women and not another guy. I’m not a fudge packer and as such, will not acknowledge any such talk…except for the last acknowledgment. You know what? Screw you. We date…We’re straight…Get used to it!!!

How embarrassing would it be to tell the doctor that you can’t get it up and the he tells you, “Well, I don’t think you should be having sex anyway.” At that point, the doctor is basically saying you should stay neutered. Personally, I’d be pissed. I mean, you’re there trying to get help so you can bang your girlfriend and your doctor is cock blocking you. That’s the ultimate dick move right there. See what I did there?

This is the scenario that they want you to think is going to happen:
You’re at a strip club with your buddies and you have a gut full of the new rigid rod poppers called “Raging Bull” so you can let the stripper know that you appreciate what she’s doing for you. In your pocket is forty bucks. Forty bucks? Hell yes! You’re not going to give any singles to your buddies, either. You didn’t bust your ass for twenty hours a week for nothing. That money is for your twenty dollar entry fee and some stripper’s g-string. The music is thumping, your hips are already starting to hump back and forth, and that’s when you see her: Daisy Passionmeadow! She has huge titties, wide hips, long legs, and the hair/eye color of the your own choosing in this fantasy write up. Daisy Passionmeadow comes walking over to you, puts a leg up on your chair and whispers, “Want a lap dance, handsome?” You nod encouragingly, waving a fan of money at her and tell her to get to work. As she’s working her ass around to your crotch, you get a feeling…not in your groin but down your left arm and suddenly, this happens:

Your ribcage explodes! Oh, if only you had consulted a doctor to make sure that you were healthy enough for sexual activity!!!

Well, obviously that’s not going to happen. Also, what kind of sexual activity are they talking about exactly? I mean, a hand job is different from hang banging…and I love me a good hang banging, I don’t know about you.

What if you’re some kind of fur fag into yiffing? I can only imagine what kind of conversation that is going to be with your doctor:
“Hey, doc, there is one other thing.” – You
“What is it Jim?” – Doctor (for some reason, you and your doctor are great friends and he is on a first name basis with you…oh, and your name is Jim)
“Well, doc, I’m having trouble getting a stiffy.” – You
“That’s not as uncommon for men to experience as you might think.” – Doctor
“Really?! Even for you?” – You
“No. Not me. I’m a man’s man. For you lesser mortals, however, there are things that can be done. I’ll write you a prescription.” – Doctor
“Thank you, doc!” – You
“Whoa, hold on there, Jim-bo! We gotta make sure you’re healthy enough for sexual activity!” – Doctor
“Well…okay, but is it safe for my kind of sexual activity?” – You
“…excuse me?” – Doctor
“Well, I’m a furry and I’ve never known an animal to have problems with getting in on due to health.” – You
“I’m going to refer you over to a psychiatrist and, no, we’re going to fucking neuter you right now.” – Doctor.

Now, as someone who isn’t into bestiality, I can’t exactly say that I know that conversation would be awkward, but if someone was having that conversation with me, I can say that I know it would be awkward from the doctor’s perspective.

What if you’re just out to donkey punch someone? That can’t be all that dangerous for the giver, right? I mean, you can have her do all the work, like you’re supposed to, and then just slug her in the back of the head when the time is right. Or what about a dirty Sanchez? Not a lot that can go wrong with that, unless you’re digging really deep to get a good ‘stache drawn. I wouldn’t talk to your doctor if it’s okay for you to go raping, also.

So, in the end, no thank you doctors. If I can’t get it up and it’s been a while, the last thing I’m going to do is consult you about giving me permission to have sex. It’s my choice, not yours. Going out of this life while banging some hot babe is just the way I always planned it. I want to die like I was born: Naked, screaming, soaked, and between some chick’s legs.


It’s not homosexuality, it’s masturbation!

—————–
Posted 4/11/2010 at 10:58 PM on Xanga

I’m not hitting on you! (s)

I am not hitting on you.  You may be attractive, sweet, or nice, but honestly, don’t go getting so full of yourself.  Yes, I understand that I can be a very flirty person by nature.  Trust me, I’ve been told.  The issue here is, you assume that I am interested in you because I’m being talkative and nice without giving a lot of my own personality away.  This does not mean I have a romantic nor sexual interest in you.  We just happen to be in the same job space/class/lab/line at the market/line at an amusement park/line in a fast food place which is taking too long.  Chances are, you just happen to be the closest person to me at the time.

Now, I’m not so arrogant as to think you’d be interested in me, either.  You’re probably not my type anyway.  There is no reason for me to assume you would think I’m hitting on you except for some signals you’re throwing my way.  What is making me think you believe I am hitting on you are the things you are beginning to say or do which has no barring on the actual conversation here.  When I’m more than two body spaces from you and you think I’m saying something funny, you don’t have to put your arm up in a locked bar position to make sure I don’t try to move closer…I’m not and I’m practically out of your arm’s reach as it is.  Must you make the comment, “Yeah, my boyfriend/fiance/husband…” in regards to something you believe came into common ground between us?

Stop being so defensive.  I’m not the type of person who needs to be taught he’s not God’s gift to women by you, as the notion I would think such a thing to begin with is laughable.  Not every man is trying to pick you up and by acting in such a manner, you are coming across as an over self-esteemed bitch and not someone I was just striking up a conversation with.

I am a friendly person and would just as easily struck up a conversation with a male in the same situation.  I get that I come across confident, but that’s what happens when you run into a man and not a kid or a sensitive type.  If I’m coming across as confident or even with a little bit of ego, then the illusion is complete and the personality I want to put out is working.  Even if you were interested in me, this conversation would simply end the exact same way: I will walk away, giving no indication of wishing to have received your phone number nor your name.

Oh, that’s right, you just realized I never asked for it.  How silly you must now feel with how you treated someone just talking to you.  After all, had I been interested, I would have made some attempt at acquiring that information, would I have not?  Come to think of it…if we are in the same class/lab/job together I’ve never once inquired about what times you might be available nor have I even questioned what you do for fun.  That would be awfully pertinent information for me to have inquired about if I was interested.

So, please, get over yourself and drop your guard.  Don’t worry, should I ever see you in the future, I will be sure to avoid you because you are just no fun and have the ability to interact with people as well as a gold fish kept as a pet by someone other than myself.  Unless, of course, I’m forced to converse with you in a group environment.  Again, don’t mistake the requirement of me having to speak to you as a sign of interest.  I am simply doing what is expected of me and I don’t wish to appear rude.

You see, I am simply just one hell of a personable individual.

—————-
Posted 9/11/2011 at 10:21 PM on xanga

Women: Games are more interesting than most of you

Okay, time to face it, ladies.  Video Games are simply more interesting, entertaining, and satisfying than most of you are.  Additionally, they aren’t nearly as difficult to control and master, either.  To most guys, video games are a great escape from your nagging, whining, and bickering as well.  Notice how i said “most” in regards to the men and women.  Ignore that and get mad if you want, that’ll make the rest of this entry all that much more fun.

You see, men have the annoying responsibility of juggling finance/career decisions/hobbies with spending time with you.  I don’t know a single woman out there that likes competition, especially when it’s with something that isn’t flesh and blood.  I sure know that my girlfriend doesn’t.  The moment I start working on projects which don’t include her, such as my animations or getting ready for range practice, she is all over me for more attention than I already pay to her.  We’re talking about a girl who I have spent all except for nine days in four months with, between four and twenty four hours a day with almost full focus on her.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the attention and she isn’t needy.  It just gets a little frustrating when I need to do something for an hour or two which doesn’t directly involve her.  She’s generally present while I’m working on my little projects, so it’s not like I shut myself away.  That’s it for my little side rant.

As a man we’re expected to be some kind of love story perfect hero who is handsome, protective, loving, all knowing, and financially stable individual who treats a woman with chivalry, all the while the woman gets to act however she chooses because that’s her right.  After all, she isn’t a maid or a slave, damn it.  Right?  Wrong.  Well, that is right, but it’s not realistic.

In video games, it’s an escape.  There the individual gets to be a real hero, or anti-hero, and go on grand adventures doing impossible feats.  In the video games, the women generally act like the stereotypical girl and is appealing because of this.  It’s one of the perfect escape from reality, and this poses as a threat to a lot of women out there.

Here’s the truth: If your man has his hands more on the controller than on you, then the video game/s is/are just more interesting than you are to him.  Sex might be important to a man, but let’s face it, if you aren’t interesting and your faults are outweighing your positives, then it’s time to move on.  I’ll even admit to this being me at times.  There are times when I don’t even want to talk to my girlfriend for an hour or two and just play my games.  It’s a hobby and it’s fun.  At that moment, they are just more interesting than she is.  If she walked in front of my screen completely naked and ready to go at that moment, I’d probably tell her, “Babydoll, just give me about ten minutes or so and I can save it!” instead of just pausing it or dropping the controller.

Most women I run into, including the girlfriends of friends or wives of people I know, just aren’t as interesting or fun as Grand Theft Auto, Epic Mickey or Donkey Kong Country Returns.  They might be fun or exciting for a while, but the games just keep giving back more than what the woman is offering in long term.  Not to mention, over the course of a year, the video games will be cheaper as well.

Either get more interesting, or learn to play video games with your guy…which in turn makes you more interesting.  I’m lucky enough to have a girl who games enough to play with me and when she isn’t, she has fun watching me play and gets into it.  She might not be super competitive or very good at most games, but she makes an effort and has a blast when she does, which makes her all the more endearing to me.

————————-
Posted 1/14/2011 at 1:57 AM on Xanga

More hiking images (s)

Okay, so I finally was able to transfer over the images from my last two trips. The first are from the Bear Creek Loop in Estes Park, CO and it was a 7.5 mile round trip.
 
 

Nymph Lake
Nymph Lake

I just wish I had brought my fishing pole. There isn’t any fish in Nymph Lake that I can tell, but up at Lake Haiyaha, Dream Lake, and Emerald Lake there were fish.
 
 

Me and Kay (Co-Worker)
Me and Kay (Co-Worker)

Co-worker of mine and myself in front of Nymph Lake.
 
 

Emerald Lake
Emerald Lake

Emerald Lake is gorgeous and really is an emerald color, even though it’s completely clear. There were actually quite a few people there, which made getting a good shot without people in it chore.
 
 

Alex Peak
Alex Peak

Here is Alex Peak as seen from Emerald Lake. Some crazy woman was trying to tell people that this is the peak that Prudential uses as their logo, but they turn it to the left. I quickly informed her that Prudential uses the fucking Rock of Gibraltar, not Alex Peak. Her reply? “Well, they might not use Alex Peak anymore, then.” Stupid bitch.
 
 

Kay and me outside Lake Haiyaha
Kay and me outside Lake Haiyaha

Here Kay and I are sitting on the bridge crossing one of the creeks just outside of Lake Haiyaha. Figured it’d be a good picture, and I like how it turned out in that sense. The lighting makes it look like I’m bald or balding and have missing teeth, though…

I couldn’t get the other person who was hiking with us to sit on the bridge. She was too scared to do it, ha! I’m still waiting for her to send me the images she took with both of us in them. Just to be a jerk, I recorded the sound of the creek and took a picture with my cellphone, then sent it to a few of my friends and family who had to work that day instead of dick around on a mountain.

The next two images are from the Plymouth Peak / Red Mesa Loop trip a few days ago.
 
 

Me on Plymouth Peak
Me on Plymouth Peak

Here I am on Plymouth Peak over in the Jefferson County Open Space. It’s not very high, compared to what I have been doing. It was a really nice day out and I was able to outrun the storm as I descended. A good, easy hike and taking the Red Mesa Loop makes it a 9 mile round trip, which is really good.
 
 

View from Plymouth Peak - Can See Denver
View from Plymouth Peak out toward Denver

Here’s a nice view from Plymouth Peak. You can see out toward Denver. Love the clear views in Colorado.

——————-
This coming Sunday I am going to be climbing Quandary Peak, which is the highest peak in the Tenmile Range, but only the 12th highest peak overall here in Colorado. I did Gray’s (9th highest) and Torrey’s (11th highest) a few weeks ago.

—————–
Posted 8/23/2010 at 2:35 AM on Xanga

Stop asking what my tattoos mean (s)

Sunrie says, 'Stop it.
I say, “Stop it.”

Not all tattoos have a deep spiritual meaning…or really any meaning at all. There are those out there who will get a tattoo because it represents something in their life and has a connection to mythology or spirituality. Bless those people and what it means for them. However, many, many of us have artwork on our bodies because, well…we wanted it for a while, designed it until perfection, and then had it made permanent on our skin.

I have a few tattoos, including one in progress on my body and one I’m designing for my left median. Not a single one of them means something deep. Not a single one is a reflection of my faith, of an ancient religion, or of a tragedy from my past. My tattoos mean exactly this: I have good taste and can design up something awesome.

This 'Jack of Spades' is just a 'Jack of Spades', okay?
This ‘Jack of Spades’ is just a ‘Jack of Spades’, okay?

The first tattoo I ever got was the one on my back left shoulder blade. What is it? A cool image somewhat inspired by Tom Petty’s look as the Mad Hatter in his Don’t Come Around Here No More video and dark Gothic imagery of the Jack of Spades. There are even a few fantasy fiction inspirations in there, as you can see, with the ripped raven wing and shining staff. It was a collaborative effort between me and one of my cousins, who is an excellent artist.

So, why those elements? Well, because I like them a lot. Those are three areas of interest that I have: Dark Gothic, fantasy fiction, and strange visuals (much like American McGee’s Alice or even the new Alice in Wonderland). The spades in this were my cousin’s influence, and I loved it. Why not an ace? Well, why would I? Why not a diamond? Well, why would I? The spade works. Besides, I’m a little partial to “pointy things”.

I’ve had several people ask what the meaning is. There is really no meaning behind why I got it, other than it was a lot of work to get it to look right and I wanted it in a permanent medium; namely my body. I always get strange looks when I tell them that. As if tattoos are supposed to be something super meaningful or have some kind of deep, mysterious meaning that only someone with a grand knowledge of the occult or mythology should know.

It means I design a mean tattoo, that's it!
It means I design a mean tattoo, that’s it!

My latest tattoo is of a sword with angel wings. What does it mean? It means that over the course of two months, I design a badass tattoo. No, it’s not a tie-in to my Christian beliefs. No, it’s not from some ancient artwork. As a matter of fact, this is probably the tenth rendition of the original concept. For two months I worked with my tattoo artist to get this looking how not only I, but he was satisfied with.

I originally had more bird like wings, but I suggested a more “bio-mecha” style when my artist felt it would look better with up-swept wings instead of out stretched wings. He drew up two other wing looks before we came up with this one: A nice combination of arch-angel like wings with bio-metal style feathers.

Again, everyone asks me, “What’s it mean?” They even asked super confused, as though they already know there is no actual meaning behind it. “I design a badass tattoo that I’ve wanted for about two years, that’s what it means,” is what I always tell them. Again, I always get the odd glances, like it should have some secret meaning or awesome story behind it. Not so sorry to tell you, but that’s just not the case.

As I said, I’m into “pointy things”, and blades seem to be my favorite thing to put in my tattoos. Even my newest one that I’m working on incorporates a sword. The other one I’m designing is a shield, but I don’t have anything I’m too thrilled with showing yet as far as concepts go. It will go on my other arm.

Those who have meaning on their tattoos, good for you. It is awesome to hear a story. I would never suggest that any tattoo never has a meaning, unlike some authors on here. It’s just that mine don’t, so don’t assume that everyone who has ink has a story to tell you.

Oh, and yes, of course these reasonably hurt and cost a bit of money.

——————
Posted 8/11/2010 at 5:11 PM on Xanga

Horrors of working with people (s)

While this entry is marked serious, it’s also very, very funny.  Why is it serious?  Because these are conversations which seriously happened.

Over the years, both myself and many friends have had the terror of working with the general public for different reasons, be it law enforcement, fire fighting, retail, or restaurant server.  During these times, you find out just how ignorant the general public is.

Here are a few stories about different interactions with the morons of the world.  These morons, who to your horror, breed and vote.


Kelli:

I worked at Mexican grill/cantina.  We wore shirts with smart-ass sayings on the back of them. Most of them have things like “Born to part, forced to work!” or “Who said beer wouldn’t make you smart?  It made Budweiser!”  Well, one of the sayings was “Condolezza Rice is NOT a Mexican dish!”

The dishwasher was staring at my back for like…twenty minutes one day.  I finally asked him, “Brian, honey, what’s so sexy about the dead center of my back?”

He tells me, “Nothin’.  I just don’t understand the saying.”

I glance of my shoulder and pulled the shirt to see which particular saying I had on that day.  I looked at it, glanced at him and asked, “Oooookay…what don’t you get?”

“Well…what’s a Condolezza Rice, then?”

To which I replied, “The Secretary of State of the United States of America.”

“…the what?”

OH, COME ON!!!!


Don:

At the food court in the mall there’s a really big, really obvious, restroom sign which leads to, guess what?!  Yes, the restrooms.

A fella that appeared to be in good health, as in…not blind…came up to me and asked me where the restrooms were.  I pointed them out, but I guess he still couldn’t see them.  I showed him the HUGE sign and pointed to the restrooms again.

Think that’s the end of it?  No, of course not.  I actually had to take him to the restrooms so he could find them.


Mark:

Back when I was working as a mall ninja (AKA mall security) people used to ask all kinds of fucking retarded questions.  Mostly it was asking me why the mall was laid out the way it was or where the mall directory was located when I was standing next to it.

One time a woman came up to me asking where the Gap was.  Well, that in itself isn’t a stupid question, except that I was standing in the door way to the Gap.  Their sign was lit.  There were stickers up on all the windows displaying the Gap name.  The mannequins were wearing Gap t-shirts.  Fuck, there were even banners talking about the new deals at Gap.

At first I honestly thought she was messing with me.  Then I looked into her dull, puppy eyes and realized she was serious.  Old woman, you ask?  No.  She was in her early thirties.  So, I raised my eyebrows, pointed directly behind me and said, “Uh…right here…”

Her reply?  “Wow, I didn’t even see any of that!”


Myself:

I hate retail…I really do, but when the job market is tough, you have to do jobs that you normally wouldn’t ever dream of for the sake of being able to pay the bills.

This mall was only two floors, with the exception of the JC Penny’s which had a third; it was a basement level because they owned their own building and could do what they want.  Other than that, there was the lower level, which I worked on, and the upper level which had the food court, along with some other stores.

What’s very important about all this is that you cannot, cannot, cannot park outside and be on the upper level from where I was at.  Even if you did park outside on the upper level, it’s very obvious you cannot go any higher.  When you are on the lowest level, it’s the most fucking obvious thing ever since it’s all a solid god damn floor, unlike the upper walkway which had the HUGE open space so you could look down and see the other stores.

This old lady…well, okay, maybe in her late fifties old…comes into the store from the mall entrance and looks confused.  So, I ask her what she’s looking for.  She turns to me, stone faced, and goes, “How the hell do I get to the lower level!”

Yeah, it was stated just like that, hence the no question mark.  It wasn’t really so much as a question as it was an accusation, since it didn’t go up at the end.  I kind of just blinked at her for a moment and told her, “You are on the bottom floor.”

“No I’m not.  Don’t tell me that!  How do I get down stairs!?” she demanded again.  I literally scratched my head and looked at her like she lost her mind.

“Really.  You’re on the lowest level of the mall,” I repeated, still dumbfounded at this bitch.  To her, it was as if I had insulted her child and kicked her puppy at the same time, because she started flailing her arms before she even started talking.

“I KNOW I’m not on the bottom floor!  Don’t insult me!  Just tell me where the hell I get down stairs to Zumiez!” she demanded one more time.  Now, what the hell a fifty year old woman wanted at Zumiez, I will never fucking guess, but at this point, I didn’t give a flying shit.

“Okay, well, elevator’s directly across from us.  Go head and good luck,” I inform her and point to where the elevator is sitting between the two escalators: One going UP to the food court and one going DOWN from the food court.

She harumphs, turns and waves rudely shouting, “That’s all I was asking for!”

To this day I don’t know if she made it to the bottom floor or not.


Kelli:

Different restaurant, same type of job…  A large party of people came in, and I swear to god, most of them were children.  I don’t mind children, it’s the parents that I can’t stand.  If the kids are running around, it’s the parent’s fault.

Well, things started off kind of shaky as it was.  The kids were noisy, getting into everything, and at their age they should have been taught better.  The adults were ordering appetizers and drinks.  I had offered the wines and one lady decided she wanted a full god damn bottle, which is fine, because it’s supposed to mean a bigger tip since the tab will be higher.

Well, about the time we bring the soup and bread sticks out, the kids are in full kid mode.  We’re doing our best to contain them all in their own section while bringing out napkins for spilled drinks and what not.  I take their order, asking if they’d like the kid’s food out first, which is what we always ask.

The woman who ordered the wine?  Well, she was queen of the table and was acting like she was the fucking pride of the pack the entire time.  Suddenly, she looks at me, just as the kids spill yet another full glass of water and knock of some soup, and states, “Little lady, this is not an opera.  Let’s make things run a little more smoothly and quieter, okay?”

I had NO idea what the hell she was talking about and I still can’t figure it out.


Myself:

When I joined the Army, I was part of the Delayed Entry Program (DEP), so I had about six months to kill before I had to report in order to finish up the paperwork and swear in.

What did I do with my time?  Well, I took a part time job at Robinson’s*May…yeah, fucking shitty as hell, too.  Not only was the management the absolute worst thing I have experienced in my life, but the customers had the average lowest IQ that side of Wal*Mart.  No, I’m not kidding.

Where I was working was the top floor in the “Men’s Collection” area.  In other words, moronically marked up merchandise that made most people look like a flaming homosexual.  More importantly, when you came up the escalator, it planted you directly in the department, facing the cash register.

Now, to give you an idea of what I’m about to explain…  As I stated, directly in front of me was the Up escalator.  Where the escalator came up, you crossed the Down escalator.  It looked like a giant X.  Furthermore, there was a huge, and I do mean huge open hole cut out in the floor where you could look down to the lower level and see both escalators.  This hole, no shitting, was at least a hundred feet across and just as long.  Yes, it was big.  Above it were signs that said “Up”, “Down” and “Elevator ->”.

One time a man leaned on the railing and looked down.  He then walked to the Down side, looked down.  He came back to the Up side, looked around, and then turned to me.

“How do I get down from here?” he asks me in all seriousness.

“Uh…the escalator…directly across from us.  It’s on the opposite side of that big hole…” I tell him, shocked, confused, and a little angry.

“Oh!  Yeah, I could see down and couldn’t figure out how to get down there!  Thanks,” he tells me and happily goes to it.

Another time I watched as a man walked to the up escalator and then moved from where it let people off.  Two people came up it.  He began to go down again, but stopped as another group came up.

I really was dumb struck watching this person…but he didn’t stop there…oh no…  This moron then proceeded to once again attempt to go DOWN the Up escalator.  He stands on it, stops, and gets pushed back.  The dude almost fell backwards!

What does he do?  He turns to me and asks, “I guess I can’t get down that way, huh?  Where’s the DOWN?  This place is TOO confusing!”  With a deep sigh I walk him to the railing and point at the Down escalator.  As he departs he tells me, “They should really make it more obvious.”


Isn’t it a shame that stupidity is only painful to the people around them?


There’s a growth between my legs!  I think it’s evil!
————————
Posted 5/12/2010 at 4:24 AM on Xanga