Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Asshole of the Day



Bitches like you make it hard for the rest of us. When they said you were the "fastest" thing in the wild, this isn't what I had in mind.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

Asshole of the Day

Buhster's pick since Miss Misc is traveling...

The Too Cool For School Asshole

Listen, asshole, I get that you work for some fancy PR agency and can afford to wear as many designer labels as you can possibly fit onto your size 2 frame.

But all that shit doesn't give you the right to come sweeping into class late every week, complain when the professor doesn't start at the precise moment that you sit your trendy ass on your seat and then huff and puff when people ask questions.

Some of us are going further into debt to actually learn something, asshole.

You think you're too cool for school? Well, I have a news flash for you, Walter Cronkite. You aren't.

Monday, May 21, 2007

Asshole of the Day


Any Post Office in America, USA


Dear United States Postal Service:

Going through a rough patch huh? With e-mail taking over I totally understand that business must be bad. And those 100% cotton uniforms for Mr. Postman must really require some expensive upkeep. Not to mention putting gas into those tricked out mail trucks with the customized doors that are on the wrong side of the vehicle.

But listen, your price hike isn’t fooling anyone. I remember when a first-class postage stamp was 0.23 and if my memory serves me correctly it was still a little sticky square. It’s not bigger, it’s not prettier, so why the hell do you keep raising the price? At least make me think that I’m getting more bang for my buck. I mean give me a vitamin booster every time I lick a stamp or something. Or make it change to pretty colors in the light.

I would greatly appreciate your immediate attention to this matter.


Sincerely,

Miss Misc

P.S.

Better yet, I won’t send this letter cause I’m fucking .02 short on postage you assholes.

When Skipping Work Always Wear a Disguise


My company likes to make a bunch of retired old men feel important by appointing them to various bureaus, councils and committees (i.e. busy work when they’re not golfing.) Of course these BCC’s like to meet on the weekends. This allows the old men and their wives a brief retreat into the city so they can shop, eat dinner and attend a meeting or two to justify spending thousands of dollars of the company’s money. Our department takes these meetings quite seriously. We begin preparing months in advance, creating snazzy folders with tabs and everything.


This weekend I decided enough was enough and I was not going to any stupid ass meeting that required me to travel 2.5 hrs on a Saturday morning to sit around and watch old men eat bagels. So I did what any klassy professional would do: I told my boss I’d be out of town, ya know, family obligation, then I proceeded to plan my day with fun activities.


Then I hit a glitch: on the way to one of these activities I spotted someone who works at my company …someone with a big mouth. I hid behind my oversized glasses and planned to make my escape through the backdoor, but leave it to the fucking CTA to have a bus with only one working door. I casually strolled to the front of the bus, then jumped out of that bitch like a fugitive.

I wasn’t wrong right? I mean I’m about to quit this stupid job as soon as McDonald’s processes my application. And it’s not like I could skip “Wok Cooking 101” that shit is vital to my well-being.

Friday, May 18, 2007

I Work for a Klassy Kompany


Our President thinks he is da bomb. He likes to remind us of this by having mandatory staff functions to celebrate his various accomplishments: The day he was born, the day he started pre-school, the first time he scored, etc. This time he celebrated a decade at the company by making us walk a mile to a piano bar for free drinks and deep fried hors d’oeuvres.
After listening to painful renditions of “Baby Got Back,” “Remix to Ignition” and “Kiss,” our Prez was asked to get up on stage. I saw this as a perfect opportunity to plan my escape (listen bitches, if I get off at 4:30 I’m leaving at 4:30 and an open bar won’t stop me) when all of a sudden the Prez is singing “Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes.” Hardy, har, har. Then it morphed into “Head, Shoulders, Sack and Crack…” The epitome of klassiness. I was horrified into silence. It was like a train wreck, you don’t want to watch but you can’t turn away from the carnage.


I am seriously considering taking this job off of my resume and telling potential employers that I was on a spiritual retreat for the past 3 years. At least that would spare me the embarrassment of admitting that I work in a fucking circus.

Monday, May 14, 2007

Consumer Alert: Storing Your Summer Clothes May Shrink Them


Dear Readers:

Beware of storing your clothes in airtight plastic storage containers. This apparently will shrink the fabric causing some of your summer favorites to fit poorly or not at all.

I tried on several of my favorite outfits from last summer and noticed some pulling around the waist, hip and ass area. A few shirts were too short and seemed to resist my repeated efforts to button them properly. It’s quite apparent that I did not change in size-the clothes did.

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Asshole of the Day


Personal Audio Devices

You cannot convince me that the assholes who blasts their MP3 players and cassette decks (yes they still exist, I’ve seen them) think that they’re the only ones who can hear their racket.

I do not need to hear the 19 minute techno version of “Unbreak My Heart” and I sure as hell don’t care if you’re a “Hollaback Girl,” or that you can “Pop, Lock, and Drop It.” I am either on my way to a job I hate, or leaving out from a job I hate. I need peace and quiet so that I can contemplate the meaning of life. Please turn that down. It’s not very personal if everyone can hear it.

Thursday, May 03, 2007

Consider Yourself to Be an Asshole...

Buhster's List for the Day...

People who are allowed to be tied to their cell phones/smart phones and use them during meetings:


-Cops
-Firefighters
-Surgeons or other emergency medical personnel

-Parents-to-be

All you other people who think you're so important that you can't bring yourself to ignore your phones/e-mails for an hour and yet somehow when I need you to respond, you're nowhere to be found...

Consider yourself to be an asshole.

It's Only 9:47 a.m.

It's early as hell and I have already dealt with varying levels of stupidity. The kind of stupidy that caused Enron to go down and Whitney to marry Bobby. The following words/phrases have already come out of my mouth:

-Asshole
-Stupid ass
-Incompetent
-Buh
-Are your fucking kidding me?
-How in the hell does she have a job?
-How in the hell does he have a job?
-You want me to do what? That's not my fucking job
-Who hired you people?
-That question was so stupid I don't even know how to respond.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

I’m Not Going to Work Anymore


I don’t know whose idea it was to make people work and pay bills. Let’s create an egalitarian society, because I’d really prefer not to work. In fact, as I sit here blogging (yes I’m on the clock and don’t give a diggity damn) I’m trying to come up with creative ways to get out of working…

1. We are in an urban environment. What if I get bit by a pigeon on my way to lunch? Wouldn’t someone have to quarantine me?

2. Looking directly into the sun and going blind. Surely I can’t work if I can’t see my computer.

3. Contracting African Sleeping Sickness and or feigning severe narcolepsy. Though many people at my company are “asleep at the wheel” I think they’d stop paying me if I broke out my feather pillow at 10am and slept literally.

If you can think of other ways to prevent me from having gainful employment, please e-mail me at ihatemyfuckingjob.org