Posted on February 8, 2013 by leeann

2

Confession: I loved the 80s. I’m musically stuck in that era, loving hair bands and theatrical rock, and all of it. This video is one of the reasons I wanted to live in California. I was positive the Freddy Mercury clone in Frankie Goes To Hollywood was there, waiting for me.
Not so much, as it turns out. I wound up dating guys who looked and sounded like the lead singer, and had the same closeted bent. Hmmm. Could it be me?

(PS…I know I’ve been slacking on posts, but I’m in an imagination hole here, and now it’s been compounded by what might be the worst haircut I’ve had since 1977. I believe brain abandonment and hair-induced humiliationed depression will be ravaging me like unfed toddlers released in a cheesypoof emporium for a while longer, so until then enjoy further antique video postings. Or don’t enjoy. I can’t bring myself to care. I look like a groundhog that backed into a garbage disposal headfirst.)

Posted on February 5, 2013 by leeann

9

One of my relatives is working her way through college as a pizza delivery driver…
“Something they never mention in training… when you deliver to some guys, penises just pop out of boxers. ”
and
“I have a 200K volt taser, just in case. It’s fun to play with. I paid a guy $5 to test it on. He was a really big guy, but I made him cry. So I figure it ought to do the trick.”
My family is meeting all my expectations nicely.

Posted on February 2, 2013 by leeann

6

H is sometimes a Special Snowflake of epic proportions.

Posted on February 1, 2013 by leeann

Reply

Posted on January 30, 2013 by leeann

6

Q: How many Freudians does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Two… one to hold the lightbulb and one to hold my penis…. no, my mother!…. my father!…. NO! the ladder!

Posted on January 29, 2013 by leeann

5

Comment made by me to H as a political discussion threatened to go nuclear:
“Look, you’re a bleeding-heart liberal pussy, and I’m a warmongering semiconservative bitch…. let’s just leave it at that.”
Comment from eavesdropping salesclerk:
“Bandaids are in aisle nine, just in case.”

Posted on January 28, 2013 by leeann

8

Confession: Someday I’d like to have this memorized well enough to karaoke it. The odds of me ever going to karaoke are about the same as one of you getting a blow job from Jennifer Aniston. I mean on her good days, not those days she feels all insecure and fat. You might have a shot them. Never know until you try, now do you? Please take a camera crew if you do make the approach. I’m sure we’d all love to know what happens next.

Posted on January 25, 2013 by leeann

8

Cardhole 2.0 has the stupidest system to correct when something rings up at the wrong price, which due to corporate hiring blind capuchin monkeys to set the bar codes, is sometimes off. The procedure is, if the total has already been paid, we have to do a return on the item, refund it, and then ring it again. Yes. Stupid and time consuming and made worse by the fact only BossMan or one of the AssMans (AssMen?) can set the process in motion, since it takes the Sacred Key of Antioch.
And as luck would have it, AssMan1 at this time was out back trying to get a dead raccoon scraped up off the truck dock.

Unkempt Person Of Indeterminate Gender: Hey, what the hell?
me: What?
UPOIG: This ‘ppose be a dollar. You charged me two!
me: Let me see it. Yep, it’s two dollars.
UPOIG: It was in the place where the dollar sign was!
me: Sometimes people pick stuff up and just drop it wherever.
UPOIG: Ain’t paying no two dollars. You give me back my dollar!
me: Okay…. you have to fill out this return slip and then we’ll just re-ring it as…
UPOIG: The hell I am. Ain’t fillin’ no shit out, just give me my dollar back.
me:…. ahem… then we call AssMan1 and get the key to do the refund….
UPOIG: The HELL you are. I want my dollar.
me: That’s the way it works.
UPOIG: *banging on the counter* Give me my dollar! Open that machine and get my dollar.
me: No.
UPOIG: Do it!
me: No.
UPOIG: YES!
me: No.
UPOIG: YES!
*five minutes later of this sparkling repartee*
me: Okay, that’s enough of this. No.
UPOIG: OPEN THAT UP AND GIMME A DOLLAR!
me: *digging in my pocket* For gawd’s sake… here. A dollar. Now go away.
UPOIG: *looking suspiciously at the bill, then at me* Where’s the fucking tax?
me: Seriously?
UPOIG: Want my tax!
me: Call the White House.
UPOIG: Oh. Okay.

(Note: For the person who wondered why I hate the AssMans so much I call them AssMans… it’s short for Assistant Manager, and just for the record, one’s female. The other is a spineless blind capuchin monkey.)

Posted on January 23, 2013 by leeann

3

This guy makes me want to learn to dance, or to at least date a member of Cirque Du Soliel and drop them when they tell me no, they can’t do that, they’re actually just in charge of changing the paper towels in the big top bathroom.

Confession: I watch “So You Think You Can Dance” every fucking time it’s on. It makes my feet twitch.

Posted on January 21, 2013 by leeann

Well. Thanks to Walmars, I have bolstered my manliness.
See, I bought for the first time ever, a Black & Decker handheld vacuum device.

Outside of the produce department, it’s the most phallic thing I’ve ever had. Aside from the real thing, which of course I was only borrowing and was not allowed to keep, nor dress it up like a Muppet and play “Nastytime Puppet Show”, even though I went to all the trouble to find a little tiny dominatrix outfit and matching boots. Not for me, just to say.
Anyway….
As soon as I got it all charged up (the hand vac, and shame on you) I went round the house hoovering up little bits of whatever the hell the cats had killed recently. Pillow bits, lizard ears, half a sock…
Then the phallicness of it overwhelmed me, and I began to walk around flipping the switch on and off, holding the hand vac out in front of me at groin level. I pretended to write my name in the imaginary snow, then I humped the sofa cushions with it. And for a bit, I just posed in front of the bathroom mirror, muttering “Oh yeah? You wanna try that ‘is it in yet’ line now, bitch?”
Because I’m like that sometimes.
And in walks H. I kind of doubt he was prepared to see me all strapped on with a turquoise Black & Decker handheld cordless vacuum cleaner, although I’m sure his mom tried to warn him about women like me. After a bit of staring speechlessly, he turned and marched out the front door.
me: Where are you going?
H: Two can play this game. I’m going to get some water balloons and an apple pie.

Posted on January 20, 2013 by leeann

An understudy of a successful Broadway show is finally getting his big break. He’s told one of the minor actors is ill, and while it’s only one line, there was going to be lots of big producers and directors in the audience that night.
The understudy takes it to heart, and practices his line all day, in every way…
“HARK! I hear the cannons roar!”
“Hark! I hear the CANNONS roar!”
“Hark, I hear the cannons ROAR!”
Finally the big night arrives. The understudy strides onstage and waits for his cue. Soon it comes, a deafening sound effect of cannons firing.
The understudy jumps in the air and screams “What the FUCK was that?”

Posted on January 18, 2013 by leeann

I know I’ve posted this before. But it popped up on my MP3 the other day and it’s been earworming its way into my heart anew ever since. I’m a sucker for skinny guys in silver velveteen, but aren’t we all?

Confession time: I cannot tell you how many times in my checkered past I’ve fallen for this logic. I really can’t tell you. I can’t count that high.

Posted on January 16, 2013 by leeann

It had been a very long day.

Customer, Son of Sasquatch: I deed a tarb.
Coworker 3: You need….?
CSoS: A tarb. For by cah.
Coworker 3: A “tarb”….
CSoS: To cubber by cah.
Coworker 3: Yeah. I’ll just…. wait a second, ‘kay?
CSoS: Jus a smul tarb iv okeh.
me: Colds suck, huh?
CSoS: Yeb. Hade id.
me *to Coworker 3*: He wants a tarp to cover his car, but not a really big one.
Coworker 3: Oh! Ha, I thought he said…..
me: You thought? YOU THOUGHT? There’s no thinking! There’s no thinking in retail!!
Coworker 3: *blink blink*

And then CSoS laughed so hard he shot a glob of snot large enough to have its own Muppet Show spinoff onto the counter, I gagged and ran, and Coworker 3 screamed like a little girl and ran straight into the glass beside the door.
So it was pretty much a win all around.
I still had to clean Coworker 3′s faceprint off the glass, though. I just put a yellow “caution wet” sign over the new Muppet and went to the other register until the CDC could call us back.

Posted on January 14, 2013 by leeann

I didn’t want a fucking olive anyway.

Posted on January 14, 2013 by leeann

Like a disgruntled garbage disposal full of cast-off gruntles.

Posted on January 13, 2013 by leeann

Where did this commercial go? Is it not valid anymore? Do they not still have a peppah bah?
I haven’t been to Quiznos in years, mainly because although I know they have one in this burg I can’t find it because my map-reading skills are crappola.

Today’s confession: I once went to Arlington, Texas when I was supposed to go to Arlington, Virginia. This was back in the day when I was a “co-driver” with The Drunken Trucker ex, and to be fair, my abilities were clouded that day due to the fact he’d thrown up in my handbag for the umpteenth time.
Not a fun day.

Posted on January 11, 2013 by leeann

A long while back, there was a co”worker” at Cardhole 2.0 who we all loathed. I sneer-quoted that bit because although I adhere to a strict “leave me the fuck alone” attitude when it comes to useless activities, he went way above the call of duty and took regular naps in the storage shed while we all did all the work, until he was caught and fired, although everyone maintains he was fired for giving douchebaggery a bad rep.

Now, logically, and I realize how futile it is to assign logic to GenPop, but go with me on this… logically, if one is dismissed for gross incompetence, one avoids the venue from whence one was sacked, does one not? One should.
Scooter did not.
Scooter has returned to the scene of the crime dozens of times. Baker’s dozens. And he always has new tale of his daring adventures and how he’s fast replacing The Most Interesting Man In The World.
We’d all be rather amused, in that debonair “isn’t he cute, managing to walk upright with only one eighth of a brain?” way if not for the fact that Skippy is a douchecanoe. I just learned that word and I plan to use it whenever I can.
“Oprah? Oh fuck, what a douchecanoe she is!” See?

Scooter does not bathe.
Scooter does not use his indoor voice.
Scooter does not respect personal space.
Scooter does not EVER shut the fuck up.

In the past months, Scooter has been a revered member of the Armed Forces, a manager of a motorcycle shop, a bounty hunter, a feared and respected repo man, a member of Cirque Du Soleil, a secret agent, a bank manager, the inventor of the Grumpy Cat meme, and has had 312 girlfriends, all of whom still are obsessed with him. Scooter also maintains, despite the fact that everyone heard BossMan go ballistic and fire his sorry ass, that he quit to pursue a degree in criminology.
Scooter is well on his way to being a politician, we have all agreed.

Scooter: LEEA-YUN! Gawd, woman, you gained you some weight?
me: Go away, Scooter. We’re busy.
Scooter: Ah, you ain’t never too busy for old Scooter! *to crosseyed current girlfriend* Old LeeA-YUN heah was my number one fan, before I quit to go work for the po-leece.
me: You mean before you were fired.
Scooter: Now, LeeA-yun, you know dat ain’t true.
me: Want to see the tape?
Scooter looked at CrossEyed Girlfriend, who was giggling and snorting.
Scooter: Shut up, woman.
Scooter: C’mon, LeeA-yun, give us a hug now. I know you missed me.

And when Scooter moved his body-odored self nearer, I didn’t do the expected and back away. I stepped in, until we were almost nose to nose. Well, actually my nose was closer to his moobs.
Excuse me, threw up a little in my mouth typing that… okay, I’m done.

me: *in my best Harry Callahan voice* If you lay one hand on me, Scooter, I’m going to kick you in the balls so hard you’ll taste your future grandchildren’s shit.
Scooter: *glaring at CrossEyed Girlfriend’s poorly stifled guffaws* You threatenin’ me? I get you ass fired, you threaten me!
me: Yeah, come at me, bro. You try to get me fired, it means it goes on public record you’re scared of an old lady half your size.
Scooter: I ain’t scared of you!
me: Well, then, why do you think what I said was a threat if you “ain’t scared?”
Scooter: *to now-snorting with laughter CrossEyed Girlfriend* Shut the fuck up, bitch!
CrossEyed Girlfriend: You shut the fuck up, asshole! You can buy your own slimjims!
Scooter: *scampering after CEGF* Ah now, baby, you know I doan mean nuthin’. Come back heah, I hongry.
AssMan2: What did you say? And can you say it again next time that jerk shows up?
me: Oh, I think I could manage it. I only fired five shots.