Bad Luck Pussy - Shit Happens
Bad Luck Pussy - Sometimes... Shit Happens

        

Old Turds
04/01/2001 - 04/30/2001
05/01/2001 - 05/31/2001
06/01/2001 - 06/30/2001
07/01/2001 - 07/31/2001
08/01/2001 - 08/31/2001
09/01/2001 - 09/30/2001
10/01/2001 - 10/31/2001
11/01/2001 - 11/30/2001
12/01/2001 - 12/31/2001
01/01/2002 - 01/31/2002
02/01/2002 - 02/28/2002
12/01/2004 - 12/31/2004
02/01/2005 - 02/28/2005
04/01/2005 - 04/30/2005
05/01/2005 - 05/31/2005
06/01/2005 - 06/30/2005
07/01/2005 - 07/31/2005

Who the Hell?

About the Site

Disclaimer

Contact


Stuffies

Kewpie Kid Sushi Cat Devil Duck Turd

blog girls «#?»

the best  pretty good  okay  pretty bad  the worst ?
bloghop.com

Powered by Blogger



111713235219976443 5/26/2005 11:25:00 AM
My family is so sweet and good and I am very lucky. Also... I need to be more of a person now that I am being driven insane... more creating and enjoying and listening and everything that means understanding and existence on a level outside of the idiots who are making me crazy.


111713121706144223 5/26/2005 10:54:00 AM
Yesterday we went to the food court for dinner... while I was waiting for the girl to get my NY fries ready, I hopped over to the Orange Juluis/DQ kiosk to get a blizzard. The two employees, some overly made up plastic wanna be porn star look sporting gals, were having a very intense conversation about a store that had some sort of shoes of interest. They were both facing me, but continued their conversation, ignoring me completely. About 2 minutes later one of them glanced in my direction and I assumed this was my cue to order. "Do you have cheesequake blizzards here?" I wasn't sure because it wasn't posted anywhere. Then the chubby one, who had up until that point not acknowledged my presence in any way, gave me a snotty look of superiority and said "No we don't". I was stunned... "Well forget it then" and walked away, at which point I think one of them realised they had just pissed someone off who might turn around and complain, and she hooted out "I can double check..." I kept walking.

Dear skanks,

I understand that you hate your job... I get that you are like 16 and 17 probably working for less than minimum wage, your boss is probably an asshole and that at this empty hollow stage in your life shoes and stores are probably a lot more important to you than common decency... and you know I can even accept you being a shitty employee, I can even ENJOY IT and get a good chuckle out of your antics... but if you want to be rude to me, to act like I don't exist... not as a customer, but as a human being, then fuck you. That is just bull shit. And you my glossy Dairy Queen Orange Juluis girls, are ridiculous.

Yours Truly,
Midge


111712970048763330 5/26/2005 10:44:00 AM
My husband spends too much damn money on me. He is a sweetie don't get me wrong... but I kind of wish I could have skulked away and my birthday could have faded away with nothing much more than a cake and maybe a song or two. I really don't feel like I should have a fuss made over me... I think maybe I make enough of a fuss over myself these days... I love what he gave me... they are very sweet lovely things. He is a very sweet lovely man.

I had cheese cake and diet coke for breakfast... LET THE CELEBRATIONS BEGIN!


111681692536850028 5/22/2005 07:47:00 PM
Times they are a changin' and I think I have a way out... so cross your fingers for me. Life will once again be grand... I am sure of it.

Husband and I had a hot date last night and enjoyed naughtiness followed by terrible service at Boston Pizza. We stopped by Wal-Mart to get a plastic tote for some crafty supplies I've been getting into, and this crazy old woman rushed up to grab a cart from the gaggle of them that were pushed up against our car. As we entered the store we saw her screaming at the greeter who looked around her ago, flustered and visibly annoyed, telling her to go out there and get some carts "There are no more! It's notmy job... you do it... this is ridiculous!" Some people... are fucking savages. If you want to scream at anyone in retail establishments, please make sure you are directing your seething hatred and anger at someone who has actually contributed to the problem you are pissed about, or at least someone who is capable of doing something about it. The greeter doesn't write the schedules, doesn't decide to send or not to send the cart boys on their collection runs, and has no say in how many or what quality of cart boys will be working... so yelling at her accomplishes nothing but a make a maniac feel moderately better for venting rage on a body.

Things like this routinely remind me why I despie mankind and all of it's insanity.


111638879081576050 5/17/2005 08:58:00 PM
I still rule at air hockey. Husband is so jealous. Can't wait until next weekend, 2 day work week followed by 4 days off in a row. Oooh la la!


111633683195536241 5/17/2005 06:23:00 AM
I'm still withering away at my same old job hole. Life is hard. My birthday is coming up near the end of the month... I'm so old. The other day at the mall, I took my daughter in the bathrooms to make a peepeee, and there were two very loud teenage girls, thirteen or fourteen, proclaiming that they hate it when people take "boys" into the girls washroom "can't they read the fucking signs?"... my daughter has a short angled bob haircut, which is very cute and lego helmet like, and she was wearing a pink shirt. I snapped at them "She's a girl by the way" which they didn't seem to notice. When we were in the stall, they were cussing up a storm, hollaring fuck this and what the fuck and fuckin asshole and blibbity blah blah blah. I was so pissed off... when we got out to wash hands I glared at them and gave them a scolding... told them it was totally unnecessary and that they need to watch their foul mouths around little kids.

They were scared. Once the rage subsided I realized... I am one of those ladies, who used to hassle me when I was being cute and witty and charming and oh so cool when I was just a teenybopper. Those old jerks used to bring me down and hassle me, what had I ever done? But really... kids are ass cracks. That whole incident though made me realize, I AM A FOSSIL,

This isn't a bad thing, I'm not worried about it, but it's funny... though I must say, I was never that obnoxious! And how come nobody says teeny bopper anymore? Remember when that was a culture? The sassy, clean, neon wearing kirk cameron loving chicks were boppers... and the big haired stretch jeans wearing skanky girls were jovis (pronounced yo-vees). Ahhh... good times.




This website is ©opyright. Respect the bunghole.