Asshole of the Day

When I graduated from high school I thought I left behind that loser-ass group of people who would just blindly follow the orders of others without any original thought process.

Boy was I wrong. Most adults have their lemming-like moments everyday. I seem to have mine mostly at work (cause when you don’t follow the “cool crowd” it’s called insubordination)

So we pose this question to you: Lemmings--smarter than the average asshole or the laziest, most ignorant asshole of all?

Asshole of the Day

So if I send you an email, why do you feel the need to copy your boss, my boss, the National Guard and the Pizza Hut delivery guy? Is that really necessary? STOP THE CC MADNESS!

My Eyes Are Burning, I'm Blind!--An Ode to Full Frontal Nudity

I go to Bally's, I just want to work out, cause I want to stay itty bitty
But everyday when I walk though the locker room I'm confronted by someone's saggy titty
Swingin left and right, to and fro unleashed from a brassiere that's nowhere in sight
I hurry to avert my eyes, yet too late, I'll have nightmares tonight
Ladies please spare me the sight of your boobs and your crotch cause i don't want to know you like that
Let me go back up front and grab you a towel to cover up your rolls of fat
I'm not trying to hate, just wanna be real and let you know that you're traumatizing me
I live for the day when I can go to the gym without seeing full frontal nudity

Move, Bitch. Get Out the Way.

Buhster here, trying not to get arrested for assault. Read on to find out why...

When I was a kid, I used to think that adults were assholes because when I'd be walking down the street or in the mall towards them, they wouldn't move. I thought that they figured since I was the kid that I was the one who had to move out of the way.

Now that I'm an adult (sort of), I realize that the reason they were doing this was to avoid the inevitable bob and weave that people do when trying to get past each other. It makes much more sense to stay the course and let the other person move around you.

Last night, however, I encountered a miscellaneour who clearly didn't understand the idea of the other person staying in one place. The worst part about it was that she was one of my kind - a runner.

So I'm standing at an intersection waiting for the walk light, and I see a runner waiting across the street. When the light turns, I start walking and see that she's starting the bob and weave. So, as a fellow runner, I stop because it's easier for me to do so. I gave her a good 3 feet to decide which direction to go around me without worrying about my moving.


Yet, for some odd reason, this bitch thought she was Muhammad Ali and kept bobbing and weaving and eventually found herself directly in front of me. She stopped right there, threw her hands up in a rage and sighed, "Ugh!"

Hey, Miscellaneour! My ass was standing still like a fucking light pole, and it was obvious from 3 feet away that I wasn't moving. What the hell are you ugh-ing at me for? How bout you take your stupid ass off the road and stop giving the rest of us runners a bad name.

Next time...I throw some bows.

Asshole of the Day

Gimme my change, Asshole!

The 9th Wonder of the World: WGW

During my time on this earth I have been given the opportunity to travel and see snippets of the world. I’ve kissed the Blarney Stone in Ireland, sent my mom a voicemail from the top of the Eiffel Tower and checked out Stonehenge. But my friends, despite seeing these great monuments, nothing has ever fascinated me more than the phenomenon that has swept this country in the past couple of years: the white girl weave (wgw).

When executed correctly, the wgw is undetectable by the naked, untrained eye (however, Miss Misc can spot a weave of any kind a mile away.) And because we’re so used to seeing long flowing silky locks, we just assume it’s the real thing. But observe above my friends, sometimes the wgw can go terribly wrong. (Ms. Spears looking like a mangey ass dog - Source)

Being a former weave addict myself, I understand the addiction, the uncontrollable urge to wear hair that is not your own. Nothing beats the feeling of chemically processed and dyed hair from some little lady in South East Asia gently sweeping across your back and blowing in the wind. So what if your hair was 3 inches long yesterday, weave can make you the woman you always wanted to be. I can’t fault Ms. Spears for aspiring to be her best. But she needs some assistance.


Won’t you please help?

Please send all donations to:

Save a Weave Foundation (SAW)
745 Wiggitty Wack Drive
Hollywood, CA 98156

Things that make you go hmmm....

Folks, the day isn't even half-over but miscellaneousness abounds for Miss Misc:

1. How in the hell do you justify charging .45 for a .39 stamp? (Currency Exchange!!) Are you going to lick the stamp for me? No? Well then in that case give me back my damn .06 you asshole.

2. Is it wrong to yank my coattail out from under the fat ass who just sat next to me on the bus?

3. If I refuse to be a stairwell monitor for my company's fire drill because we have too many old people to escort out in case a fire breaks out, does that make me the "Asshole of the Day?" I say they've lived a lot more life than me so why risk it?

4. Can I "throw" my volleyball playoff game tonight cause I just don't feel like playing for hours and hours? So what if we've worked for this all season...I'm sleepy.

5. If I volunteer at a food kitchen on Thanksgiving but refuse to eat the shit they're serving, does that cancel out my good deed? Must I do as the natives do? I say let them eat cake...while I eat my tirimisu.

Revenge of the Wonk

A post by deerylou, contributing blogger

i have a wonky tooth. it's the incisor to the right on the top. it's not particulary fang-like, but it juts out a bit. i had braces when i was 13 but i never wore my retainer (cuz that shit hurt) and it WANTED to be wonky, so it slid right back out to its 40-degree angle. i do not look as bad as kirsten dunst, as she has the double-wonk, but it is noticeable.

last week i was in bed and my cell phone, which i use as an alarm clock as well, went off. i am a goddamn disaster in the morning - waking up is a process, where i hit snooze and cocoon myself and i'm all blind and confused. so my phone's alarm went off, and i lifted it over my head (far-sighted) to see what time it was and then accidentally dropped it. directly into my face. from a foot away.

it hit my mouth and caused my wonky tooth to sink - hard - into my bottom lip. and i started bleeding. which made me insanely pissed off. i had to decide whether it was worse to get out of bed (which i hate doing) or swallow my own blood (which is repulsive). i ended up doing a bit of both.

my split lip took its slowass time to heal, too. i think my wonky toof was reminding me that it was sick of being mocked. i got the message, bitch - no more attempts to straighten you and no more pointing out how fucked-up you look.

Guess What? Today is Assholes Don't Go to Work Day

Everyday I drag my ass to a job that I pretty much don’t want to be at. I sit for 8 hours in front of a computer and watch as my Outlook box fills with spam that scoffs at the bootleg 2nd hand software we bought to block it. I take the bus home with a bunch of miscellaneours. I sit down, open my bills, exclaim “f*!# you” to Discover Card for duping me once again (Discover Card billing department = 5 points, Miss Misc = -50) and pour myself a glass of lactose free milk to calm my nerves.

I guess you could say that my money is always funny because being a member of the Department of Miscellaneousness doesn’t pay. So imagine my surprise when I left for lunch today and discovered that most people don’t have to work. Apparently there’s a money tree somewhere in Chicago that I have yet to find. I ain’t never seen so manly assholes chillin in the middle of the day without a care in the world. They’re everywhere! Shucking and jiving and shopping at the American Girl store like it’s already the day after Thanksgiving. I just don’t get it. Did I miss the memo that said adults don’t need to pull an income to pay their bills? Shit, maybe it got lost in my inbox.

Asshole of the Day

The "I don't have to work today so I'll be the slowest, most indecisive asshole" asshole.

Just because you don't have anywhere to be doesn't mean the rest of us don't.

Speak Clear and Slow

Phukker here on the front line of miscellaneous for you, you and you.

Now, a lot of my day is spent on the telephone. Most calls are, well, filled with triflin peeps who don't want to read the information for themselves and would rather have an astute person, such as myself, explain the important nuances of a crucial piece of paper work. Typically I just do it. The pay ain't bad, for me to answer the questions, help them out. Trouble is when something is requested you can't give. Y'all know what I'm getting at.

This morning a call came in that was clearly in my jurisdiction, but what slipped it into miscellaneous was when we were clearly not speaking the same variation of english.

Phukker- What document are you looking at?

Trifilin- I need to know xyz.
Phukker- Okay, what is the title of the document?
Trifilin- What?
Phukker- What is the document called?
Trifilin- It has, this, and this, and that, and this--
Phukker- Okay but does it have the title, XYZ?
Trifilin- I am looking at it on screen.
Phukker- Okay, then sounds like we aren't talking about the same document. Please go to xxxx.com.
Trifilin- But this is what I always use.
Phukker- Try xxxx.com.
Trifilin- What's the address for xxxx.com
Phukker- xxxx.com
Trifilin- That doesn't work.
Phukker- Okay, x-x-x-x
Trifilin- I don't need that, just tell me blah, blah
Phukker- I can't, you'll need to access--
Trifilin- Just tell me, xyz
Phukker- You'll need to access--

There was an audible sound disturbance.
Then the line went dead.
She hung up on me.

Obviously a situation that was not suppose to be miscellaneous but due to a communication deficit dragged into a miscellaneous feeling situation. But I ain't mad, I'll get paid anyway.

Y'all Holla back now!

Phukker out.

Asshole of the Day

Adult crossing guards. Hey assholes, 3rd time is the charm for that police academy test. Maybe you can turn in your whistle for a gun with real bullets.

Loser Magnetism, Part II - The Staring Miscellaneour

Buh-Buh-Buh-Buhster back at ya...

Part II of Loser Magnetism is devoted to the Staring Miscellaneour. You know, that jackass who blatantly stares at you with no shame.

What are you looking at, Miscellaneour?

I've tried staring back. I've tried asking a lame question like, "What? Do I have a boogey?" My sister goes the "Take a picture, asshole, it lasts longer" route. Somehow, none of these miscellaneours seems to be phased by any of it.

And it's not just men ogling women. I've had Female Staring Miscellaneours too. There's this one chick who -- every time we see each other -- first looks at me in the eye but then stares down at my shirt. What the bloody hell are you looking at?

I always feel like somebody's watching meeeeeee. I ain't got no privacy. Whoa oh oh.

Asshole of the Day

The Chicago Transit Authority

Roses are red, bus fare costs 20 dimes
Sure wish you'd get my ass to work on time

Asshole of the Day

The alarm clock

Asshole of the Day

Lactose: God's cruel joke on minorities. You know we can't process that shit!

Say My Name, Bitch

A post by deerylou, contributing blogger

*names have been changed in the following story...

my name is kari. usually the name kari is spelled "carrie," but mine is not.

i work with a man named konrad. usually the name konrad is spelled "conrad," but his is not.

i emailed him friday with a quick question and he emailed me back today. he addressed me in his email as "carrie," even though my email address is clear in my name's spelling. not a big deal to me, though.

so i typed up a quick reply thanking him and hit send. i then realized that spell check had changed his name to "conrad" and i wasn't thinking and clicked "okay" and sent it as such.

i then realized how entirely passive-agressive that looked. like "FINE, spell my name wrong, SPELL IT WITH A C AND NOT A K, and i'll do the same, FUCK YOU!!!!!!!" - which was not my intention at all.

i did manage to "recall" the message. i kinda wanted to just leave it as it was, though.

This Shit Doesn't Happen in the "Real World"

Buhster here again...

I was a public relations major in college, which for my parents translated to, "I have no idea what the hell that means so I'll just tell everyone that she switches majors a lot."

Anyway, I really enjoyed my major because it was interesting, and I was pretty good at it. However, there was one piece of miscellaneousness that was so dorito it haunted me long after I graduated - and that piece of miscellaneousness was group work.

All of my professors told us the reason why we needed to have group projects was because in the "real world," we'd have to work in teams all the time.

What these fools failed to realize is that the bubble that is college does not and cannot re-create the "real world" working environment.

Sadly, the group work miscellaneousness has managed to find me again. I recently started taking grad school classes and have been experiencing the buhness that goes along trying to complete a project with four miscellaneours who commit the following violations:

• Are wholly disinterested in school
• Have no background whatsoever in the grad school program they've chosen
  
• Decide to disappear and not answer e-mails or phone calls
• Show up to meetings late or not at all
  

Now, I get that at some point, you will have to deal with assholes who commit these types of violations in the workplace but never to the degree that classmate miscellaneours do because they don't have any consequences to face other than a bad grade.

What I don't understand is why these fools decided to go to grad school. It's not like it's mandatory.

Lesson of the Day for Classmate Miscellaneours: Keep your triflin ass at home if you don't want to be in school. Your lazy ass is a burden to the rest of us.

Asshole of the Day

Loser Magnetism, Part 1: The Cosby Sweater

Buhster here on special assignment...

Miss Misc and I are going to have a series of posts called "Loser Magnetism." This is a special kind of miscellaneousness that plagues both Miss Misc and me on a regular basis. It happens so often that it makes us wonder if we have some sort of magnet implanted in our bodies that attracts the most losery of the miscellaneours.

One such miscellaneour is The Cosby Sweater. Now, the Cosby Sweater is not foreign to me, as I'm sure it isn't to you. I used to see the sweater on Mr. Cosby himself all the time when I watched The Cosby Show as a kid. I saw it on the crazy Amazing Discoveries infomercial host. I've seen it in pictures on the Internet (see Exhibit A above). But the fact of the matter is, nothing ever truly prepares you for the sheer buhness of seeing The Cosby Sweater in person.

However, it's not really even the sweater itself that's so terrible. It's the fact that the man who made the conscious decision to don this atrocity and take himself out in public hits on you because he truly believes he has a fighting chance at a date - or at least a hook-up.

So to you, Mr. Cosby Sweater, I quote the hilarious words of Jack Black from the movie High Fidelity: "That's the worst fuckin' sweater I've ever seen. That's a Cosby sweater. A Coooossssbbbyyyyy Sweater!"

Take that shit off, man. Just take it off.

Lesson of the day: The man doesn't make The Cosby Sweater. The Cosby Sweater makes the man...a douchebag.

You Must Be 55 or Older to Ride this Ride

Today I was confronted with a moral dilemma. I was sitting in the front of a packed bus, minding my own business, trying to go to work like a good girl, when I look up and see...her. Her, was a strangely ageless woman. She could have been a bad 45 or a good 65, I couldn't tell. But either way she posed a problem for me. Should I offer this sort of old looking woman my seat? I took a look around, no men in sight to do the deed. I turned to the girl next to me, her eyes were closed (I know she was faking it, no one can sleep on a CTA) I looked at the woman, she looked sturdy, like she came from good stock, so I decided not to get my butt up. But for the next 35 minutes I sat there, uncomfortable, because something just didn't feel right. When the bus started to clear out, Grandma finally got to take a seat. Upon further inspection, she was old...real old. Just another reason for me to go to hell in about 60 more years. And just in case you are wondering, yes, my mother raised me better than that.

Lesson of the day: Old people on buses are a major inconvenience for all.

Inauguration Day

Yo, Miss Misc here and welcome to the world of miscellaneousness. Occassionally my buddy Buhster will grace you with her presence. So what in the hell is this page about? It's about the things that make you go "what the f*&!" on a daily basis. Wherever you are, whatever line of work you are in, miscellaneousness can strike at any moment.

On the right side of the page, you'll notice a working list of definitions. These are words we have either created or given new definitions to while being attacked by miscellaneousness/miscellaneours.

Keep checking back for our tales...beware.