Just Saying…You Ruined Colors for Me!

Posted July 13, 2009 by b3st3v3r
Categories: Just Saying

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You Ruined Colors for MeI’d like to extend a special ‘thank you’ to the gangs of the world.  Thank you for ruining colors for the rest of the world, you selfish sons of bitches.  I hope you choke on a cup full of watercolors.  Why did you have to pick the most popular colors in the world?  The bloods took red, and that didn’t really hurt me because it’s not at the top of my list.  The crips took blue, and that shit hurt me to the core.  Dammit!  The sky is blue, the ocean is blue, and I can’t wear it without catching 30 hot slugs.  Yellow is also near the bottom of my list, and the Latin Kings ruined any possibility of that replacing red or blue. 

You couldn’t pick a less common color.  It’s not like the cops and rival gangs don’t notice of group of shady dudes wearing the same color.  And this brings me to the next point.  Wouldn’t you want to keep a low profile if you were always doing illegal shit…just saying. Common sense goes a long way.  What about hot pink?  Show hot pink some love, and you might not get stopped every time you go to the store for blunts and bubble gum.  Was doo doo brown also unavailable?  At least that would symbolize your place on my respect food chain, straight bullshit.  You fuckers should just get face tattoos or quit at life and give me my blue back! 

It’s not just gangs either.  Let’s talk about the rainbow for a second.  The GLBT community gained an identity, and I had to shed a part of mine.  I can’t wear rainbow suspenders, belts, or put the stickers up in my room without people thinking I’m gay or a pre-op tranny.  The rainbow!  Think about it.  Don’t start commenting and calling me a homophobe and all that nonsense because this is as true as it gets.  You can’t be a straight man and be associated with rainbows anymore unless you’re a nature photographer.  The GLBT community, of course, gets way more love than gangs, but not for the reason you think.  I’m still sad that they chose the rainbow, but at least it represents a diverse group of people, not a group of low-life assholes with chips on their shoulders.

Time and Place IV…What About AIDS?

Posted July 9, 2009 by b3st3v3r
Categories: Time and Place, WTF

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There’s a time and place for contests.  Now is neither the time, and the richest country in the world is not the place to hold a contest to see which group of nerds can get to space without government funding first!  The fact that two million dollars is at stake just makes my balls burn.  Who the hell cares if we can put more humans into space?  It’s been proven.  Try something new hippies! How about a race to cure AIDS.  How much would that prize be worth?  I’d be willing to personally donate at least one of my balls to the team that cures AIDS.  Is cancer also so far in the rearview mirror?  And what about the still incurable herpes, you low aiming sons of bitches?  The phrase ‘aim high’ is not a direct reference to space for all of your fucking aspirations.  Do you know how much professional athletes, actors, and politicians would pay to remove the stain of their past indiscretions?  Apparently, you absolutely do not, because you fucking nerds are trying to replicate technology that’s been in place for almost 50 years.  So, burn all of your Star Wars action figures until you do something useful with your advanced knowledge of whatever the fuck your 8 degrees entail.  Trust me, the world will be a much better place.

Aye Aye, Cap’n!

Posted July 7, 2009 by b3st3v3r
Categories: Work

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pirateI don’t know if you noticed, but we’re not on a frigate in the middle of fucking gun battle with Her Majesty’s Royal Navy.  We’re not dressed like pirates, and I’m not wearing a fucking eye patch!  So, it might be in your best interest to stop barking out orders like some sort of power-crazed babysitter on an ego trip.  Otherwise, you might have a mutiny and a concussion headed your way faster than a bullet train.  I mean, where the fuck do you get off?  It’s not like people won’t listen to you if you’re the boss, at least not all the time.  The position doesn’t come with an ‘I’m always right card’.  However, you pretty much just need to ask to get the wheels turning on anything.  Or if you prefer a paper trail, an e-mail with bullet points is always good. 

I mean, be civil or expect to be treated like a verbally abusive pirate ship captain…office style.  I’ll give you an idea of what you could expect since you may be a little slow.  How about a twist on Chinese Water Torture where we drip fresh brewed Starbucks Breakfast Blend on your junk.  We could even make you drink liquid crystals from your monitor till you poop in Technicolor.  Or we could strip you naked, cover our hands in thumbtacks, tie you up, and just slap the shit out of you for like an hour straight.  That’s some real pirate shit!  Yaaaaaar!

Old People & Technolgy

Posted July 1, 2009 by b3st3v3r
Categories: Work

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Old-People-and-Technology

Only the strong survive.  So, put down the mouse and step the fuck back, or learn how to use that F1 key, punk bitch!  I don’t have all day to send something to you for review, get it back with your “updates” [very un-fucking-helpful changes], and then correct all the fuck ups you contributed to my formatting.  Nice work, tiny Tim, you have now, at the very least, doubled the time it takes to review a document.  How about you stick to writing on paper and leave typing to the pros.  I know we’ve had keyboards for a while now, but you’re worse than a caveman trying to make fire in a hurricane. 

Old-People-Technology-=-Oil-Water

I’d be more sympathetic if you weren’t such a cocky jerk about it, claiming you’ll take care of it.  I’d have better luck putting my laptop in a dishwasher because you’re more illiterate than Helen Keller before the Miracle Worker showed up.  I bet you wouldn’t be such a fucking know-it-all if we were talking about skydiving safety or how to properly masturbate with a flaming glove on.  I bet you’d listen to my instructions like I was telling the secret of how to get into Megan Fox’s panties without being handsome or rich.  If that’s not up your alley, or you’re into penis and can’t think of a substitute of the opposite sex, then you’re beyond hopeless.  And that leaves us where we began…you’re a douche that refuses to adapt.  Take your old ass to the shuffleboard court before I double-click you up and down the nearest  flight of stairs.

We Can See You

Posted June 29, 2009 by b3st3v3r
Categories: WTF

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We Can See You

Hey, Roger Ebert!  Turn that fucking pen light off.  You’re ruining the climax of the movie for everyone.  Oh, you’re just a regular, paying customer like me?  And you’re not taking notes?  And that’s not a pen light, it’s your cell phone?  What the fuck, Douchey Smurf?  Did Gargamel infiltrate Smurf Headquarters?  If not, put that thing back in your damn pocket or step the fuck outside.  I can’t imagine where you had to grow up to think that shit’s not going to bother anyone.  Even worse, I can’t imagine how much attention your friends and family don’t give you for you to demand it from complete strangers by turning your fucking light saber of a phone on right before someone is about to get their shit rocked or every sensitive person in the theater is about to be brought to tears by the painstaking work of a master filmmaker.

And you aren’t in a cocoon of darkness, eagle eyes.  NOT ANYMORE!  Maybe you figured you would be the only one that could see it.  Did you feel like James Bond, covertly extracting your million dollar celly from the inside pocket of your $4000 tux?  Did Q give it to you with a stern warning to bring it back in one piece and a tutorial on how to instantly annoy the shit out of 200 people you don’t know?  If so, this would still be unacceptable behavior.  But you’re not a secret agent, and a picture of your buddy whacking it to pictures of your mom is not a national secret, no matter how fucked up it is.  So, check your twitter later, to which no one probably responds, and get a Netflix account.  We don’t like your kind at the movies.  Peek-a-boo, bitch!

Just Saying…Edible Panties, Really?

Posted June 16, 2009 by b3st3v3r
Categories: Just Saying

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First of all, I’ve got nothing against people getting freaky.  Do what you gotta do to keep the love alive! However, there are a few things that shoulnd’t be in the bedroom/car/kitchen/bathroom/office/living room/truck bed with you when it’s time to do the do.  Edible panties are at the top of my list!

Edible Panties

That’s not even freaky.  Panties that have the same consistency and taste of fruit roll-up are just a mean fucking concept.  It’s like being given a Kia as a loner when you take your Lambo to the dealer to be serviced.  Nobody, regardless of how much they enjoy pink tacos, wants to go from a sweet, sugary, strawberry snack straight to vagina.  What the fuck?  I wouldn’t ask to have my balls put in a bear trap right after getting head.  Similarly, I would not ask to be robbed after hitting the jackpot at a casino.  I’m just saying.

Weekday Forced Networking

Posted June 10, 2009 by b3st3v3r
Categories: Work

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Weekend Forced NetworkingWhat do you get when you cross a person forced to work 60 hour weeks and bosses that have decided they don’t want to go home tonight?  This is not really an open-ended question, given the title and all.  However, if you guessed ‘a free trip to a strip club’, you’re 8% right.  The other 92% of that answer is ‘a 2 to 3 hour shit show where you’re served high calorie appetizers and beer (mixed drinks if you’re lucky).’  Of course, this would be awesome on a weekday if you didn’t have to be to work by 8 AM and you weren’t surrounded by the same people you’ve been around for the last 10 hours.  Another acceptable answer might be ‘a drunken tryst that ends in a nasty divorce and issues with authority at future jobs’.

Basically, your bosses get more respect, to their faces, in the workplace than they do at home.  Think about it.  Would you be the happiest person in the world if you worked 70+ hours a week to afford your family the best of the best only to have your kids tell you they hate you while your spouse schedules all your free time with stuff you don’t want to do?  Easy answer, “FUCK NO!”  Who would?  Not me!  Dare I say that I’d be as near to suicidal as possible?  Dare I also say that instances like this are the roots of chronic alcoholism?

The weeknight social event is where your boss gets their chance to shine.  You should keep in mind that there is a chance your boss will go a little overboard with the drinking and become a douche and a half.  I’ve found that the best way to deal with habitual line crossers is to say nothing at the time.  Instead, you should wait till you’re with your coworkers to sow the seeds of disloyalty.  Eventually, they’ll sense their work family is becoming eerily similar to their real family and get their shit together.  If not, quit for a new job after you finally get that raise.  As an alternative to that, you could grow a pair, threaten your boss with a sexual harassment suit and quit after they give you a raise as compensation for being such a bag.