
Monday, November 09, 2009
Friday, November 06, 2009
Matches, Gasoline, and Police Blotter Oh MY!

Well, my friends, it looks as if the classy employee episodes have returned. Remember the store referred to as the Betty Ford Clinic? One of the fine employees based out of that store turned herself into police today for allegedly turning her "man" into a towering inferno. Let me dumb this down for you....
*Employee talks back to husband
*Employee's husband/Baby Daddy bitch slaps Mrs. Sassafrass for thinking she's cute and trash talking.
*Employee gets mad and gets even.
*Employee looks for a spare can of gasoline
*Employee douses Baby Daddy with the accelerant, lights a match, and voila! The man is a human camp fire, minus the smores, of course.
*Employee realizes that she is in deep sh.... when Baby Daddy calls for help while she is on the run.
*Employee's family encourages her to turn herself into police.
*Employee faces some hard time.....
It looks like all those years of listening to Tina Turner ballads really paved the way for these youngsters.
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Wait a minute... I never read this chapter in "The Diary of Anne Frank."

Tuesday, September 29, 2009
A vase full of wilted daisies.... an unread book that I bought over a month ago (I used to read at least 1 book every weekend), the sound of the BART train, and a deep breath....
The projectile vomiting is getting old. As are the feelings of disappointment, doubt, disgust, inadequacy, anger, loss, settling, and pursuing the inevitable. I am simply competing in a game that I cannot possibly win. I no longer have the will or the strength to even care. How dare I say that? Yes, people, I DON'T CARE!!!!!!!!!!
I've been staring at this box in the corner of my house, but I don't even have the determination to put in the mail. I look in the mirror, I want to ram my fist through it. I hate the fact that it's been 33 years, and nothing has changed. I hate what I see, and no amount of plastic surgery can fix it. There isn't a strong enough glue to heal all the wounds that I have, and if there were, I wouldn't have the mindset to go after it.
Hate is a strong emotion. I don't believe I have fully forgiven, nor have I forgotten, but I no longer hate. I guess if I hate anything or anyone, it would be me. One should never let another human being get the best of them. Normal people would be able to shrug it off, pick themselves up off the ground, and move forward. Normal people. I smirk at that. I guess people are like revolving doors. I will never comprehend the acts of a few individuals that I was so unlucky to encounter, let alone, let into my little bubble. They are tiny fragments of a sheet of broken glass. I could name drop, but what good would it do me? They're always right. Remember, it was me that was wrong. It was me that was questioned on the how's the whys the what ifs... I'm used to being the bad guy so what difference does it make? I forgot how perfect their lives are. My judges are hypocrites.My hostility dates back to 1976. Why the hell was I even born? Life isn't a series of lessons, it's a series of screw ups. It's as if the world kicks back and watches you drown. The world doesn't even offer you a flippin' life jacket. I'm a walking dead person!
If only the surf would sweep me away.....
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Betty Ford, and Retail do not mix

Monday, August 31, 2009
Rasta Woman is an idiot

<---- Strong enough for a man, but dude is a lady.
So, I have a store that is an utter failure. It's kind of like Jose Conseco in a Mixed Martial Arts fight. The ring leader of the dumb asses is Rasta Woman. She wears her hair in dreads, sports reading glasses that rest on the slope of her nose, as if she is Mother Goose, and wears plus size clothes on her 100 lb frame. When she glides about the sales floor, her tent, aka, shirt, sways as if some housekeeper at the local Motel 6 is whipping a sheet that is fresh out of the dryer. She doesn't have the vocal cords of Bob Marley, but she has the can do attitude of a corpse.
Her beef with me today was that she wanted to be Store Manager because she had worked in that store the longest. If longest was the key word, I was going to have a field day. She takes the longest when processing shipment. She takes the longest to walk from the front of the store to the back of the store. She takes the longest crap in the history of the world. Today, she was in the bathroom dropping it for an entire 30 minutes. That's a lunch break, my friend.
Rasta woman and her gang of slugs need to leave. Every ten minutes, they are fiending for a break. I would like to point out that they are on a permanent break. What could they possibly need a break from? Making excuses?
These people cannot be phased. I could tell them that the owner of the company would be arriving at their store in the next day or so, and it would be like getting a reaction out of a retard at a strip club. Sure there's a lot of hoopla going on, but they are totally oblivious to the fact that they should be excited, and therefore, motivated to bust a move.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
I'm sorry but I'm just thinking of the right words to say....
It's a mind game, that mountain. Sometimes when a challenge poses itself, it's just easier to give up and not bother trying. It's almost as if the world should offer us a restart button, so that we can press it at any time when we feel like we need a recharge. There are literally days that I wake up and I wonder and I think to myself "What am I doing..." I've had the talk with myself for several years now, and every year I look back to see another twelve months wasted and gone just like that.
Life does pass us by. Why can't it be equipped with a yellow brick road, cheat codes, and tour guides? Why is it that things come so natural and so easy for others, while some have their self-doubts? How are some inclined to overcome the psychosomatic stumbling blocks, and others simply close the blinds and retreat into a cocoon awaiting a do-over?
For the over-analytical, such as myself, I find myself pondering the heaven, the hell, the purgatory, the physical life, the afterlife, and all the usual questions that pop up in our heads during our own journeys. If life is one big bowl of mistakes, what's the point? How do we get out of our series of disappointments, pick ourselves up from off the ground, dust off the shame, the guilt, and the humiliation from our faces and overcome that mountain? And if there is a higher being, something or someone far more superior than the human race, and this higher being never gives us more than we can handle, why are there people creating their own expiration dates? At what point does one pick up the gun or the bottle of pills and say, "Game Over"? Do things really get better and if not, why is it wrong or questionable for one to check out? Sometimes the other side seems so enticing...
Friday, July 17, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Why I love Police Blotters...
Friday, July 10, 2009
Rising up... Back on the streets....
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Arif is Missing
12:01, Arif clocked in. 12:03 he slurped some tea and annoyed me. 12:04 he's still annoying me. 12:06 I want to kick his throat in. 12:07 Arif had to go to the bathroom. 12:08 still in the bathroom. 12:09 Arif messed up the bathroom. 12:10 Arif was on break. 12:15 Arif smacked his lips at me and started telling me about California state law. 12:15-9:00pm Arif finished his sentence about the state law. 9:05 missing person report went out on Arif. I don't know where he is.
The annoying Security Guard

ARRRRREEEEEF is the most annoying security guard in the history of the world. His most annoying habits are:
- --- He smacks his lips after he speaks a sentence. It's a loud annoying click of the tongue that makes me wonder if he has peanut butter wedged on the top of his palette.
--- After he finishes a sentence, that usually takes a normal person less than a minute to utter, he smacks his lips, and gives you a "Matter of fact" gaze. The gaze itself lasts longer than it took to speak the freakin' sentence, which means the whole time from sentence, to smack of lips, to "freaky stare" equals roughly 10 minutes.
--- He makes his own special Tea that smells like dirty gym socks. As he drinks his tea, he makes an obnoxious slurping noise. It makes me cringe. This goes on until the entire cup is empty. Usually about 20 minutes.
--- He complains of a medical condition in which he must have a bottle of water with him at all times. It's called, Get a fucking IV then.
--- He logs every bit of communication between myself and store personnel on a little note pad. After he types out the day to day activities he request a sit down with myself and the store manager as well as him, and wants me to fire everybody and keep him.
--- He cries when his highlighter stops working and when people blame him for pissing on the toilet seat.
--- He is 40 years old and pouts.
Dumbass Employee of the Day...
Dumbass: "Yes. The ones I got fired from."
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Tiffy's Weight Loss Mission

Wednesday, June 10, 2009
More tales from the Bay...

Tuesday, May 19, 2009
An Actual Incident Report from a Store... I'll give you a prize if you can figure out what was going on. Also, I didn't edit this in any way.
Tempers go on high
When I asked about specifics of harassment, Guatemala girl said that whenever her husband would come to pick her up from work, that the store manager, would say, "Look. Here comes your cousin."
I had to excuse myself...
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Susie
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
More tales from the Bay



