the one where I lost my shit

*Warning. The post is laden with profanities. 

At times, you may need to avert your eyes*

Do you ever have one of those days?

I mean one of THOSE DAYS?

And it all happened in the course of 20 minutes.

If any of you are Instagram followers, you'll now have the details of my cryptic angry note I wrote out at midnight that night.

Ready? Set. Go!

We all know Mondays and Tuesdays I work doubles. And since the state of Oregon thinks I can't be trusted to drive an automobile, and I live 22 miles away, I've been carpooling (aka begging and mooching rides).

Monday morning, boyfriend drops me off at 545 am at Le Coffee Shoppe (yes, Shoppe, cause I'm fancy like that) with my stuff and the bike. I work there in the morning and then at Le Restaurant during the evening, which I manage, and am off at around 11pm. Since I work the next morning again at 6pm, I've started staying in town at a friend's apartment. Biking the mile there, and then back again in the morning. Think of all the gas I'm saving!

This also means that I have to get all my shit, for two days, packed and put together Sunday evenings.

Cut to Le Restaurant. I have to wait for the dishwashers to finish before I lock up. This usually involves me sitting around for an hour playing on Facebook and Instagram. Waiting. Waiting.

Well this night, Eddie was feeling most-unproductive and took an extra 40 minutes to finish up. Can you say milking the clock? I finally closeup and get my bag and bike all ready to go, head down the stairs and feel for my key.

Fuck.

My Keys.

My fucking keys.

My fucking keys that are on the fucking break table at the fucking-fuck coffee shop.

Its 11:30 pm.

So. Not only can I not get into my friends apartment TO SLEEP. But I can't get INTO WORK IN THE MORNING.

Fuck! Fucking fuck fuck fuck!!!!!!

Side note :: At any normal job, I could come into work with the cook, who is also scheduled at 6am. But since our cook is thinks he can do whatever he wants, he usually strolls in at 6:20. This WOULD be a funny way to let the owner know how late he always is, but I don't wanna be a narc, and also get myself into trouble. He'll get his, someday. Oh yes, someday.

Whats really funny is, these businesses are literally  2 blocks apart. I'm SO CLOSE, yet so far away.

I text an co-worker who might be awake.

Nothing.

I text another.

Nothing.

Fuck.

I text another.

Nothing.

Fuck fuck!

Just when I'm about to freak out, someone gets back to me and offers to come let me in.

BLESS YOU MY CHILD!

So I peddle on over to Le Coffee Shoppe and meet her and grab my fucking keys off the fucking fuck break table. We laugh at me, lock up and say good-bye. Oh won't this be a funny story.

I look at my keys and about to put them in my pocket, and bike the mile to friend's apartment.

When I notice.

Friend's apartment key isn't there.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

Oh no. I gave that key along with my P.O. box key to MY MOM when she checked my mail.

I'm the most brilliant fucking person in the universe.

This is where I almost start crying.

Its now midnight.

I can call boyfriend and have him come get me. Or even bring me the keys to her apartment. But I know he's been asleep for hours. Plus, he'd have to get up and drive a half our, get me, drive another half hour!

I text him my situation. I figure if he offered I'd let him, but I felt really bad punishing him for my stupidity.

I say FUCK IT! And decide to stay at a hotel. There's one a few blocks away. Its a Travel Lodge, it should be cheap, right!?

Ha.

Even ghetto hotels cost SIXTY FUCKING DOLLARS in this town.

Lame.

Meanwhile boyfriend is asking if that's the best rate? I should check the internet... blah blah blah. I'm pretty sure the conversation went like,  "I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS. ITS MIDNIGHT. I'M ON A BIKE. I JUST REALIZED I DIDN'T EAT DINNER. I DON'T HAVE THE LUXURY TO CHECK EXPEDIA FOR THE BEST DEAL. I'M OVERREACTING AND TAKING IT OUT ON YOU VIA TEXT MESSAGE THANK YOU VERY MUCH!"

This is not an exaggeration.

I claimed poverty and stupidity, and the sweet Indian lady laughed awkwardly at me, and got me a $20 discount for God Knows What.

Either way it still cost me $50 to me a moron.

She tells me to take the hallway down and my room is on the left. I can't find the hallway, so I end up walking all the way around the building. Oh, there's the hallway.

I collapse on the bed and can't tell whether or laugh or cry. I text boyfriend, who bless his heart can only say "I'm sorry you're having a bad night." He knows better than to interact when I'm spazzing out.

I brush my teeth and go to bed, as my stomach growls. Stupid stomach.

On the bright side, at least I didn't get bed bugs.

Its okay to laugh now.

I know I am.

On another bright side, I'm now running 32 straight minutes and my 5K is Saturday! Whoop!

xoxo, McGriddle Pants

grammar

An exchange: 

Cashier: Do you have a rewards card?
 
Me: Yup!
 
Cashier: Yes?
 
Me: Yup.
 
Cashier: YES.
 
Me: YUP.
 
Cashier: I always say "yes"
 
Me: Don't do that. It's obnoxious. The only person I let talk to me like that was my grandmother, and she's been dead for years.
 
...silence...
 
*transaction ends*
 
Me: *Big smile, bug eyes* THANK YOU!!
 
Exit stage left.



And I leave you with ...

random picture of my brother on his last birthday ~ 7pm

XOXO McGriddle Pants

I'm proud of you, Storm Trooper

Holy crap balls, I'm alive!

I've been such a major suck on my blog of late, and yet I've been quite productive in the real worlds. I have even only been checking my facebook every 2 days or so *GASP!*

The job has been keeping me busy, and am trying to gather up some material for some tales from the work place. Mostly I'm still learning the ropes and learning the hierarchy of the restaurant biz. You know, some servers think they are so much better than we, the mere host staff, and even higher than the lowly bussers. Which I think is total bullshit. On a high note, my manager said this to me the other day, "We're working on getting you started serving, so just be patient. But I think you'd make a much better manager" To which I said, I would definitely be down with that. But anywhoodle.

My BFF came to visit me from Arizona for 2 1/2 weeks and I was literally sober for 2 whole days. TWO WHOLE DAYS in the last 17 days. I'm in a MAJOR detox right now. Well, today was actually the "hangover" period, in which I ate everything in the house for most of the day. I feel like I'm going to explode. I also napped for 4 hours. So tomorrow will begin the health cleanse. My liver will thank me for it.

Oh-- and we took pictures

the beach! still sober here..

"hurry up beer man"

"nipple"

let's just call this one "Oakshire Brewing Sample Night"

Ankle failure. Twice. Yes, we're drinking in a dugout. At 1 am.

"Portlandia"

Wenatchee

He wanted to call this one "Gaga" because 'Judas' came on for the millionth time.

Oh yeah, and his shirt says "You discussed me"

Bought at the Portland Saturday Market. Funniest shit ever.

lonelydinosaur.com

The pitcher actually had "PBR Only" written on it.
Why? Cause it taints everything it touches.

Lots of ridiculousness occurred.

'Judas' was in our heads constantly for the first week. I loves me some Gaga, but sweet Jesus, you can only sing it so many times. That and Adele's Rolling in the Deep.

Somehow we ended up watching a Real Housewives of New York City and became strangely addicted. What a SHITSHOW! Oh that Ramona... I want to kill her. And her Pinot Grigio!!! But I digress...

I also nearly broke my ankle again. Remember when I wrenched it during the Rise Against concert? Well basically it happened again. TWICE.We had spent most of the evening out drinking (surprise, surprise). The sky was perfectly clear and my friend wanted to "go look at the moon". So we picked up a six-er of tall cans of Miller Lite and headed to the park. For some reason the ball park lights were all on, at 1 am. So I proceeded to prance around the bases while holding my beer. No failure there, and actually you'd think that would have been the most likely place for ankle failure. Oh no.

We're sitting in the duggout and realized we needed to TAKE PICTURES!! So I ran off to the car to get the camera. Wait, no I froliced off. Sort of a skipping-jogging-frolicking action. The duggout is dirt, then transitions to sand, which then transitions to the grass throughout the rest of the park. Well, once I hit the sand... BAM! I ate shit. I laughed and laughed and rolled around grabbing my ankle. Biffing it is pretty funny, especially when you're wasted. But I was fine, so I made it to the car, and then headed back.

LITERALLY... in the exact same spot I ate shit. AGAIN. AGAIN!!! What the crap!? This time my stuff went flying. Camera. Beer. Keys. Hat. All strewn about. Again I was laughing so hard, but this time the tears came with it. My friends came running over and were trying to help me up asking if I was alright. (this part is hazy for me, so I'm going off what my friends relayed to me afterward) I guess I yelled "NO TALKING!!" because I was laughing so hard and it hurt SO BAD. Then they tried to help me up and I yelled "NO TOUCHING!!" At this point I was on my knees, laughing and laughing and crying and laughing, trying to figure out if I'd broken my ankle and if I could walk on it. Meanwhile my friends stood there histerically laughing at me.

I hobbled back to the duggout and managed to figure out that I didn't actually break it. I'm sure I tore some stuff up in there something fierce though, because two weeks later it still hurts. It was swollen huge for a week, and its more or less back to normal size. But it still hurts, especially in the monring when its stiff, or when I step weird.

We also went to Portland, went to a gay bar and got capital "T" Trashed, went to Powell's the world's largest used book store, to the Saturday Market. Then do the beach, and this last weekend, up to Leavenworth Washington for some awesome rafting action. We nearly froze to death, but that's a story that's really not as funny when retold, however we were crying/laughing in the back of the pickup when it was pouring POURING down rain. I just kept saying "This is a memory of a lifetime!!" I'm such a dork.

So there ya go.

I'm really going to try to update more often, at least once a week. The guilt is killing me. And I miss my bloggy buddies! I'll also admit that I haven't read ANY blogs in as much as two months. But I'm spending my cough time today catching up. I may not comment on everything I love, but I'll try to send some love your way so you know I was actually there catching up!

Peace out my homies! Miss and love you!!

how to know if you need new glasses...

Searching through the guide on the tv looking for something to watch.

I come across "Nasty Wines"

"Hmmm" I think. Nasty Wines? A show about what wines are gross? Could be interesting... or funny...

*presses the "info" button*

"Newly divorced flight attendants spend a girls night at home reliving their hottest exploits while sharing scandalous mile high stori-- "

wait a minute...

Oh. Its called Nasty WIVES. Doh!

Mr. Man guest posts!

I went to Subway today.  There was this guy there that I soon found annoying.  First, he was blocking the doorway when I was coming in.  Why can most people not figure out how to wrap the line around into the seating area, rather than just all huddling in the narrow doorway?  Secondly, he was wearing a polo shirt.  Not just any polo shirt, but one with a print fabric that combined a windblown American flag with the script of our Constitution.  Wow. 

Next he recognized a guy sitting with a sandwich.  They did the normal “how have you been” b.s. stuff.  Then the guy goes straight into “I’m leaving in a few weeks”.  The other guy asks, “were to?”  His fatal mistake.  “Disneyland with the family.”  Then a detailed recap and comparison of all of his trips to Disneyland over the past years, apparently 2 to 3 trips annually.  The summary included crowd volumes, average wait times, weather at the park, weather in Oregon at that time, their hotel amenities, special seasonal events at Disneyland, how much fun they had, what times to avoid going, how to get the best travel deals, and the proximity to natural disasters in southern California at their trips’ given times.  Meanwhile, his acquaintance didn’t ask one leading question, or actually say a single word (didn’t have a chance to).

After the other guy grabbed his kid and made an escape, he started whistling to a Nickelback song that was playing on the radio.  Btw, not the world’s best whistler, or sense of pitch.  “Take me now, Lord.”  I then thought, “this guy is going to order 3 or 4 sandwiches, right?”  I figured he was the guy in the office who others would always get to pick-up lunch by pooling their money to cover his food too.  Then they could all enjoy 30 or 40 minutes without him there.

I was wrong though.  He only ordered one sandwich.  However, he did make a call on his blue-douche while they were trying to ask him what type of sandwich he’d like, and which condiments and veggies he preferred.  When it came time to pay, the guy handed the cashier a five, as he was saying $5.25.  As he dug in his pocket, I got a quarter on standby to get the guy settled up.  Finally he pulled out another bill.  Gosh.  How to you not know how much your sandwich will be?  The menu is a collage of giant posters on the wall you face.  He took his to-go sandwich, and got the f- out!

flashback friday: the hell train to prague

Lovely green fields sprinkled with glowers. Wild flowers in fact, of white and lavender. Then we enter the woods, tall green trees with grass and small shrubs scattering the floor. A lot like Oregon in fact. We are traveling awfully slow. I wonder why... This train seems to be dallying, letting me enjoy the views and landscapes of the Czech Republic.

This picturesque train ride is a bit lovelier than our Hell Train to Prague. Boarding in Würzburg, originating in Frankfurt, we boarded at 1 am or so. We enter and find every seat and compartment is filled. Maybe we should have made seating reservations? Oh well, too late now. So, not only are the seats filled, oh no, they are filled with drunken German football players. A whole team perhaps. Drunk, loud, smoking, singing and running from compartment to compartment, car to car. The five of us scurry on and try to find some seats. Any seats. The closest we find is some floor space outside the WC at the end of the car.

Scotty in the stairwell, Ester, myself and Walt, blocking the door to the bathroom. They plan was to sleep on this train, arriving in Prague around 830. We soon realize this plan will be unsuccessful at best. Jeanine and Scotty are sitting in the stairwells opposite each other. Every time the drunkards blow through the doors, they are slammed into Jeanine and Scott's backs. This I do not envy. However our seats on the floor are less than grand, with our boney behinds drilling into the floor, and our backs aching from leaning on the wall. Our backpacks make horrible pillows, but we try to make do.

Ester and Walt and I are all leaning on each other, attempting to leave a path for the drunks to move from car to car. Not that this matter much because they trip over us no matter what. They also try to talk to us, offer us beer, and spill beer on us, even though we are so obviously trying to sleep. They also want to use the restroom behind us, but there is no way in hell we are getting up every 30 seconds. We joke that we need a black marker and tape to put up an out of order sign up. A good idea, except for the fact that none of us actually know how to say "out of order" in Deutsch. Luckily there is a bathroom in the next car that we refer them to. One trip to that bathroom I en counted a man urinating in the stairwell. I guess he couldn't wait; when you gotta go, you gotta go. I however opt to wait, although the situation in that WC is a whole other story.

So we attempt to sleep. I think I may have gotten 20 minutes. Maybe. Walt and I decide to go look for seats. At the other end of the car we find 11 other Americans standing in the same place we are sitting. I realize there are no seats and am thankful that at least we an sit. Poor Jeanine keeps getting jammed in her back by that damn door. And every time it opens we are hit by the stench of smoke, beer and urine like a punch in the fact. So, at around 315 we arrive in Nüremberg. Passengers attempt to board, and turn around and get off. Full house, sorry guys. So we wait. and wait. and wait.

kill meeeeeeeee

Still sitting in Nüremberg a guy makes something like four phone calls to Lord knows who, laughing and yelling at the top of his lungs. No sleeping for us. The dude then attempts to open a beer and sprays half of it all over the floor and the other half on Jeanine. What a douche. Then we sit there for like another 30 minutes, for only Lord knows why. Finally we get moving. Jeanine and Walt talk, Ester and Scotty sleep and I attempt to rest. I am in a interesting state; definitely not asleep, but not really awake either. 4:10 the doors fly open. Passport check. We must be close to the border now. Some German guy runs by, yelling sheisse! Sheisse! SHEISSE!!! (shit!), and something about his passport being in another car.

Then somewhere in the Czech Republic people start gathering their stuff. Some guy drops his bag on me and wakes me up. There are 5 or 6 guys getting off at the next stop. Its only 430 so we definitely aren't in Prague yet. I stand up to make some room. We then realize that these guys WERE sitting and have left empty seats somewhere. I wake up Walt to ask them where. I picked up my bags and told Walt and Jeanine to go for it. What happened next was the funniest thing I've seen. I leaned over Ester and Scott and yelled, "SEATS! SEATS! GET UP GET UP! WE'VE GOT SEATS!" They literally sprang up from the floor, bags in hand without missing a beat. We weren't sure if the rooms really were vacant, but at this point we didn't care.

We piled into that tiny compartment, threw our bags up, slammed the door shut and shut the curtains. They couldn't kick us out even if they had wanted to. After this point we had a more or less uneventful ride into Prague. Arriving on time at 830, with more or less three hours of crappy sleep, we deboarded and tried to freshen ourselves up in the Prague train station restroom. Having the hell train behind us, we exited the station determined to have a glorious time in Prague, in order to make the hell train ride worth it.

The Hell Train? Totally worth it!

July, 2006

when beavers attack!!

Man, I'm a major fail at the last couple of Random Shit Tuesdays... And today's a wednesday and look at all these words!  But I really wanted to get out some stuff from this weekend, now that I'm a little more coherent and more energized.

Friday was super awesome, setting up camp and starting up our boozey weekend with a blast. A couple of my old friends came out for some CLC's (coors light cans) and some bonfire action.

Saturday we woke up and had a bit of a slow start (due  to the CLC's and BLC's). Luckily we didn't have a floating start time until noon-thirty. Once we got  all situated we headed to the boat ramp. Mr. Man met us down there in his kayak. The cooler was so full, we could barely put one seven pound bag of ice in there. There were nine of us on the Raft-Like-Boat, which by the way has a 700 pound capacity... whoops!! And after this weekend has earned its own "like" page on facebook.

Saturday was pretty much a huge success. We had so much fun on the river, some more than others. One friend literally couldn't get out of the water (slippery rocks and all) without help. Then refused to sit down, so it took three of us to push him into the chair. That was pretty hilarious. And he of course passed out 3 seconds later. And my Will Truman also had too much apple pie, so we played a little prank on him...

we called him whiskers for about an hour

But honestly our second float on Sunday had the best BEST story of the weekend was the beaver story. (Even better than when I was in the water, drunk, pulling the raft-like-boat along because the current was too slow, and Journey's "Dont Stop Believin' " came on the radio [water-proof shower radio, bitches!] and we all started singing along. Then I shouted "I think this one of the best moments of my life!!"  I know, right?!

Ok, back to The Beaver Story.

Floating along we saw a beaver swimming along about 20 yards off. Mr. Man was in the water for a pee-break when we spotted him. So Mr. Man decided to head on over to Old Man Beaver (that's his name now). Old Man Beaver was just chugging along going real slow.

His indian name is "Swims with Beavers"

Then Old Man beaver decided to make a left turn and started swimming right for us!! I shit you not. Closer. Closer. And closer still. We were all laughing and freaking out and then really freaking out once the beaver NEARLY FUCKING BOARDED US!! Like a foot away. I had images of him crawling aboard and causing mass carnage amongst we raft-like-boaters!! Old Man Beaver had to be blind, or deaf, or both, cause we were causing a hell of a ruckus. My roomie sort of "swooshed" him away with the oar, without hitting him in the face. He changed directions and swam ahead of us towards the other shore. Meanwhile Mr. Man is swimming after the beaver with a fucking oar!! I was freaking the fuck out. I was yelling, NO! PLEASE NO! DON'T CHASE THE BEAVER! Seriously. I was having issues. Everyone was laughing at me, cause I was freaking out. I mean, I wasn't really afraid of the beaver, I just didn't know if they're as aggressive as nutria, or rats, or whatever the fuck else is prone to attacking, biting, and giving people rabies.

So other than that, our trip was uneventful. Seriously LONG, and COLD but uneventful (we hadn't floated that trip before, so didn't know exactly how long it would take).

We had many, many, MANY awesome conversations over the weekend too, most of which I can't remember... but here's what I can remember (and yes, most of these will make no sense to those not actually involved in the conversation)

Oh, and did I mention that my friend Adri surprised me with a visit on Saturday night?! It was super awesome. And she brought an awesome present:

yeah, like we needed MORE booze. yup, we're drunks.

best. movie. ever.

There are few words that can describe the movie I watched the other day. While browsing through my NetFlix online available movies, I came across this goddie in the "Gory Horror" section. At a whopping 68 minutes long, clad with what looks like an entire porn star cast (and with the expected acting skills to boot), and with its first boobie shot at exactly 0h0m into the film, is probably one of the funniest fucking movies I have ever seen.

And I've seen a LOT of movies.

The basic plot:

A homicidal turkey axes off college kids during Thanksgiving break.

I know, right?! Talk about a recipe for ultimate awesomeness!!

Let me get this out first so you understand what exactly what you are getting yourself into. This movie is stupid as hell so you need a sense of humor to enjoy it and that’s exactly what I did. It was a boring Tuesday evening so we decided "how could we not watch this movie?" and pressed play. The next thing I knew my sides were hurting from laughing so hard, and since its barely an hour long, we went to the store, bought more beer, and watched it again. 

The turkey is pretty "gangsta" for the most part, even saying "Nice tits bitch" after he offed the topless puritan in the woods after the very first Thanksgiving. Theres also another great scene when the turkey went to some chick’s house looking for her, and her Dad answers the door dressed up as a turkey for his annual costume party. They sit there at the dinner table sipping coffee while chatting and the turkey has on these black Groucho Marx eyeglasses. Finally the turkey has had it and adds daddy to the victims list. I mean, really? HAHAA!

However I have to say that my favorite scene during the movie is when the turkey is hitchhiking and an unsuspecting driver picks him up.

seriously?

Then the driver opens the door and asks "Gas, Grass, or Ass?" The turkey basically implys he has no cash or weed, so he'll be providing sexual services to the driver, how I have no idea. The driver unzips his pants, like he's excited (?) to get head from a turkey. [Think it couldn't get any worse? Oh no, the scene goes on.] It is at this point that the turkey pulls out a shotgun (riiiight) from under his feathers and sticks it in the guys face, and then, fingerless as he may be, manages to pull the trigger and shoot the guy in the face. Oh yeah, then he steals his car and drives off.

Seriously.

No. I mean seriously.

no, seriously!

I must insist that you all watch it immediately, or buy it from Amazon.com. I guess the unrated one is 1h26 minutes, so somehow they squeak out an twenty minutes of deleted scenes.

I'm ordering my copy right now!

i love camping! *or* its 430 am... why does it sound like i'm in a mexican restaurant?!

Holy shit balls. Sorry I've been MIA for nearly a week. I just got back from a fun filled weekend of camping and have I got some crazy shit to share.

AWESOME NUMBER ONE:
Our first evening (after 4 beers or so) had us discussing the new year of middle-schooldom with my friend's daughter, E (no, not ecstacy you dorks, its an initial, cause she's ten, and there's lots of pervy stalkers out there in cyperspace, moving on.) She had lots of random questions, including some that involved her very first "monthly visitor" and what to expect during that extravaganza. Then somehow in the conversation she said something about babies, and where they come from. Granted, I figured at her age someone would have had the Birds and the Bees discussion with her, but I guess she never asked.

Anyawkwardconversation, we asked her if she knew the "process" of baby making. She asked (and I swear I'm not making this up) "Does it have to do with drinking beer?" Insert, [stiffled bursts of laughter], a [quietly uttered "well sometimes"] and [crazy glances back and forth], here. Well, no time like the present than now to have "the talk."

It went well, and she asked a lot of questions, which were answered pretty honestly. Including "how do I get boys to like me?" to which I answered "Honey, its been 32 years, and I still  have no idea."

Before I tell you my next tale of excitement, please enjoy some pictures.

marking the campsite, just in case you didn't recognize my jeep

after trying to use the coffee pot in the cigarette lighter, and thus blowing a fuse, we resorted to a more "rustic" way of making coffee

the result of flippy-floppy wear, instead hikers

AWESOME NUMBER TWO:
So Saturday night we were playing with the fire and listening to my "VH1's 100 Greatest Rock Songs of All Time" playlist. The kids down the road (and seriously, I don't think any of them were of legal drinking age) were having a pretty serious party. We thought, eh, its Saturday night, we'll let them have their fun. Several times throughout the evening I had to turn up our music, because their much farther away, yet ridiculously loud and insane rap music was way too loud. We couldn't even hear ours over the sound of theirs.

Once it got dark, it didn't get any quieter. We were chatting and once we heard a guy yell "Hey! Don't go that way, there's a HUGE drop off over there!" Oh how I would have laughed if I had heard screams of falling and horror. Giggled like a school girl I would have. Then around midnight I distinctly heard "Hey! Who wants hamburgers!" And an enthusiastic group responded with a cheer in the affirmative. We went to bed shortly after the hamburger incident, even though the music was still pretty loud. I was really tired though from a fun filled Friday night, so I didn't think falling asleep would be too terribly difficult.

Sleep came and I was in and out for several hours. I had no idea what time it was because we had no service, so my phone had been off since Friday morning. As is my usual occourance during camping, I woke up having to pee, with a ridiculous amount of urgency. After lying there for about 10 seconds, I realized there was some extremely loud MARIACHI music coming from the partiers camp site. I got up to pee, pretty much right next to the tent because I sure as shit aren't going to stumble across the campsite for a more appropriate place. Once back in the tent I whispered to myself, Man that shit's loud! Without missing a beat my friend said, "Yeah, its fucking insane." as if she had been up for hours. When I laid down, her daughter woke up and that's when she lost it.

She looked for her shoes, and stomped out of the tent. At this point the music had turned to a solo baladier, serenading campers for at least a half mile, as it echoed across the lake. She went to her car and checked the time. "ITS FOUR-THIRTY IN THE GOD DAMN MORNING!" "Fuck!" I said, in agreement. She stomped down the road, and upon coming to their campsite she saw 4 Mexican boys (seirously, probably 18 years old) sitting around the fire. There were at least 16 cars there, and every table was covered in empty booze bottles.  

"ALRIGHT!"

I giggle to myself in the tent  

"ITS 430 IN THE FUCKING MORNING!!! ITS TIME TO FUCKING TURN THAT SHIT OFF!"

"No! We're camping!"

"THIS IS FUCKING UNACCEPTABLE! ITS TIME TO GO TO BED AND SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"No! I don't have to do what you say!"  

She looks at him, pointing. Looks at the car. Then studies the license plate, and turns back to him, still pointing, "FINE! THIS IS ON YOU THEN!"

And she turned and stomped down the road.  About half way back to our site the music turned off. Yes! She returned to the tent enraged. Of course we could still hear them talking for another hour, but no music. I was too worried about retribution to sleep, and she was to fucking pissed off. We agreed to wake up at dawn and set off our car alarms and wake those little shits up. Finally, what must have been about 5:30 am, when the initial shock wore off, and I no longer feared of a drive-by, I fell asleep.

And yes, at 7:30, you can bet your ass, the silence of the wilderness was shattered by two car alarms going off in unison. Revenge is so sweet.

And now, more pics.

big sticks and fire!

uh oh, Spaghettio's!

little slice of heaven, in a can

 and now... AWESOME TO THE TENTH DEGREE: 
 Small child camping with us was beginning to get annoying. "I'm bored. I don't want to read." So we told her to play in the woods across the street. She went across into the woods for about 15 minutes. She came up and said "Mom! I found something in the woods! Its made of wood! I says something crapper on it!"

We shot each other quizzical glances and headed across the street, camera in hand. And this my dear friends is what we found...

The CAMPER CRAPPER 3000

Disgusting isn't it folks? I swear to God this is not doctored, and is EXACTLY how we found it, TP and all! If there hadn't been poop on the ground, I probably would have fallen down laughing!

*For those of you who don't know, I guess you tip it over, and use the long sticks as handles, and use the "facilities" like a piramid. And you sit on the foil so the words become upright and readable. Don't worry, I didn't know how it worked either. Mr. Man figured it out.

You're welcome!!

do you want fries with that?

Today has been spent revamping my resume, and looking for jobs to apply for online. I have to say that looking for work is almost as harder than having a job. Seriously. I have to have a different resume for almost every job I apply for. Switching around jobs, qualifications and skills for each application. *sigh*

So yesterday I applied for a new job and it had one of those "screening tests" where in which you answer around 100 random questions about yourself in which you must lie your pants off because if you were to answer truthfully, you'd never in a million years, get an interview.

Answer: I never get agitated, or hold a grudge.
Truth: I am touchy about a lot of things.Get the fuck away from me.

Answer: I've never lost my temper.
Truth: Well, not today... yet.

Answer: I have never said something that I later regretted.
Truth: Hello? Have we met?

But this test/questionnaire took the cake. I don't know what kind of employees they've had in the past, but I'm thinking that drugs may be an issue. Granted this was for a large Hippie Market chain, in which I'm sure many employees are pot smoking college students. However, this seemed like a bit much:. These are actual questions that I answered. NONE have been duplicated, although it seems very repetitive. These are all questions that you say "Strongly agree" or "Slightly agree" or "Slightly Disagree" or "Strongly Disagree"

• Companies make too big a deal out of employees using illegal drugs on the job.
• There is never a good reason to use illegal drugs while at work.
• Pre-employment drug testing is an invasion of a person's privacy.
• Using illegal drugs on the job is just plain wrong.
• It is okay to use illegal drugs on the job as long as it does not become a habit.
• It is okay to give or sell illegal drugs to your co-workers as long as it isn't taken to the extreme. Using illegal drugs on the job is not justification for termination.
• Giving illegal drugs to your co-workers is not as bad as selling illegal drugs to them.
• It is okay to use illegal drugs on the job as long as it doesn't cause safety problems.
• If you have a good reason, it is okay to use illegal drugs while at work.

WOW! DRUGS MUCH?!?

And that's not all! Here are the theft questions:

• If you are working in a store, it is all right to take merchandise as long as you intend to pay for it later.
• In some instances there are good reasons for stealing.
• People who steal from their employer are just plain dishonest.
• When I hear a person who claims they have never stolen anything, I don't believe them
• It is only fair to steal from your employer to make up for low wages.
• Stealing equipment, supplies and merchandise from your company is not the same as stealing money
• There is never a good reason to take something that doesn’t belong to you.
• It is not the same to steal something that is insured rather than something that is not insured.
• There is never a good reason to steal anything from your company.

Like seriously, do I even want to work there? Yowza!! I think I may needs to get some reinforcements... or some alcohol...

So for today, I've given up and am watching Mama Mia! again... I love The Streep!!

wonderful wednesday

I'm sitting at the gas pump, and I ask for $20 worth.

My card is declined (since the unemployment checks come Wednesday, Ding!Ding!). I *embarassingly* told the attendant to give me a few minutes and I'd use my phone to transfer money from my savings to my checking.

Before I even had a chance to get my phone out, the woman at the next pump offered to pay for my gas!!

Wha-wha-whaaaa?

Yup, She paid for my gas! She said that someone had done the same for her a few years back, and that it was her turn to return the favor! I'm soooo going to be paying this one forward!

What an amazing, wonderful and unbelievable event in my life.

There's hope for us yet!


Karma totally exists.

Happy Humpday!

speechless wednesday

Not quite speechless per se, but I'm left baffled.
Here's the scenario. Rush hour, 5pm, Tuesday July 20.

via Google Maps. Awesome illustration via Paint. I'm a whiz with technology.

Me: Driving along, getting into the turning lane.

Hippie: Being stupid and hippie-like, not looking, probably blaming the Republicans for his stupid long hair, and expecting the world to revolve around his rusty-electric-moped-driving universe.

Sure the Focus has stopped to let him turn left across 3 lanes of traffic, but did I? NO! Didn't even see him...
and BAM! 
"X" marks the flattened hippie spot.

Well, not really flattened. Impacted, yes. Shot forward about 12 feet, yes. Flattened not so much.

He surprisingly jumped right up, and immediately began blaming me for hitting him. He proclaimed he was "being cautious" and that "he was signaling". Even though he forgot the part where I had the RIGHT-OF-WAY. I handed him his shoe, and waited for the cops to come.

THANK GOD he didn't appear to be injured. Just a scrape on his hand, although I'm sure he'll be hella sore and bruised up tomorrow. I would have been horrified and irrevocably scarred if I had seriously injured him in any way, even if it was his fucking fault.

Hippie ruins perfectly good plastic bumper.

Hippie Mobile, totally rusted out, now missing a fender. Which I'm pretty sure was previously being held on by a bungee cord anyway.

And after 6 hours at work, cause NO ONE would come in and cover my shift... I finally got to go to the hospital to get checked out, after my head was POUNDING, my neck was STIFF and my back was ACHING. (no I swear I'm not a whiny baby)

Hells yes, I was flashing people in my gown.

Vicodin. Hello old friend.

The fucking best part?! His electric moped is NOT REQUIRED to have insurance on it. So he darts into traffic, basically as a "bicycle", and causes a traffic accident.  
HE DAMAGED MY CAR, and my damn insurance has to pick up the bill.  
MY NECK HURTS and I have to put in a claim.

Fair? FUCK NO. I should sue him in small claims court for any and all damages I have out of pocket. Not that I give a rats ass about my bumper scratches, but I should fix it just so he has to pay for it. Grrrrrrrrr!

What a wonderful world. Happy fucking Wednesday. Me and my Vicodin are going to bed now. Hmmmph!