Asshole of the Day - My 32 Year Old Bladder

Well, it's Buhster here, and Miss Misc and I decided it was about time we stopped just bitching to each other about the on-going miscellaneousness that continues to strike and start blogging again. 

And so I give you the first Asshole of the Day for 2012 (yes, 2012 is 3/4 of the way over):

My bladder.

I turned 32 this year, and apparently in its 32nd year of existence, my bladder has decided that it can hold about as much liquid as a thimble. Gone are the days when I could pass out in bed at 2:30 a.m. and sleep peacefully until noon after a long night of dodging old men in Cosby sweaters. Instead, I now find myself wide awake in the middle of the night debating whether I can hold it until morning. Why I bother with this debate is self-inflicted misc because my bladder's answer is always a resounding, "No, bitch, get up lest ye be the oldest bed-wetter in America." And that argument is one that I cannot win.

Damn you, aging. Damn you.

Asshole of the Day

The High Road:

Has anyone pissed you off royally and instead of giving them an open-palm slap to the mouth, as is much deserved, you decide to take the stupid ass "high road?" Well I'm here to tell you that you can only take the high road so much before you have to swerve your shitty yellow Dodge Neon to the left and you end up on Punching Bag drive with a nosebleed watching the rest of the assholes speed by on the "low road" while giving you the finger.

Asshole of the Day

Buhster buh-buh-buh-back in action. I promise I'll give an update of the misc I've encountered in this new land/job; but today, after being forced to sit through an all-day meeting, I'd like to bring back the Asshole of the Day. So without further adieu, I bring you...

The "I'd like to echo..." Asshole.

Listen, man. The last time I checked, we were in a conference room trying to solve a business problem, not in the fucking Andes yodel-odling so that we could hear the beautiful echo of our own voices. So the next time you feel the need to reiterate what another person in the room has said just to hear the ragingly annoying sound of your own hideous voice, please refrain. Otherwise, I might be forced to throw a bag of Ricolas at your head every time you open your mouth to speak.

Buh Buh Back in Action

It's me, Miss Misc, reporting in after a lengthy 1.5 year absence. Go ahead, call me an inconsiderate asshole for leaving you hanging while I was out living my life. Well I'm back again and boy have I got updates.

Let's start with the most important: Buhster threw up the deuces and moved her ass out of state. Yep, she abandoned me for the promise of a bigger check and sunshine, well okay, those are facts not promises, and if someone offered me a better gig, balmy weather and a backyard that wouldn't take 30 years to pay off, I would have eased myself on down the road too. So cheers to Buhster. Now I didn't say she escaped the misc, cause that shit sticks to you like the smell of Brut after some ugly guy hugs up on you at the club, but she can report on that herself.

As for me, well let's start with the good stuff. I found a boyfriend. An honest to God good guy who takes me to his mama's house and everything. And we met on eharmony! Snicker behind my back all you want, that 15-hour compatibility survey worked its magic.

I bought a house. It's not a shit hole, but let's just say every time I hear a loud noise I peek out the window to check for bodies on the ground. My area is "up and coming" (cough cough, gunshots!)

Work, you ask? ...sigh. Same ol shit ya'll. Different paygrade=different grade of assholes. After years of job hopping, me and Buhster finally figured out that we should have stayed our asses put with our decent salaries, only slightly annoying bosses, and views of the city. I guess if we could do it over again, we would, but ya live and ya learn.

Let's talk about what's next for Miss Misc. Well if you can't beat the assholes (which I can't, I promise you) you join them! That's right, I'm gonna be my own boss and start my own business. It's the only way I can retire by the time I'm 40. So watch out, the next time you post your resume online, trying to escape your current misc, you might get a reply from me. Muhahahahhahahaha

Monkeys Have Feelings, Too

*Image courtesy of La Pequena's #1 fan

Dear Assholes,

While it's been fun being treated like a trained monkey on a daily basis, please consider this my resignation.

I'm packing up my survival blanket and my bananas for a land where miscellaneousness does not swing through like a tornado in Kansas and the monkeys are treated with a little respect.

It's been real...real buh.

DEUCES,
Buhster

Your Quarterly Update

Well hello there! I know, I know, I've been treating readers like the children of a 40-year old woman recently remarried. Yes, I've in general been ignoring Les Misc. I guess I have a slight problem, I'm sorta happy with life, which absolutely does not make for good blogging. I like my job, have lots of friends, the only thing I can complain about is men! They are still worse than ever and behaving as if they were raised in the wild. Highlights include:

-The Cop who had 5 kids and dropped the f-bomb every other sentence
-The Austrailian Basketball player with a lisp
-The Foreign Guy who invited me over for chestnuts and coffee then asked when we were gonna make out
-The Fat PE Teacher who only liked to eat pasta, fried chicken and pizza
-The Guy from College who started every sentence with "well my mom thinks..."
-The Total Hottie from the club, sigh, so hot, yet such a dog
-And of course guest appearances by my college sweetheart, the Trainer and the Jamaican

I've decided to strap my chastity belt on extra tight until I stop attracting miscellaneours.

asshole of the day

i'm baaaaaaaaaack.

buhster here bringing back the asshole of the day. why? because shit just hit the fan, and i can't stand the smell any longer.

so, today, i bring you the first asshole of the day for 2009:

HR departments

the obvious choice for asshole of the day would've been the stranger danger man who randomly showed up on our floor at work and started stealing shit from people's offices and cubicles. however, who can blame the crackhead for tryin to get his?

no, no, the HR department is the true asshole of the day because when it came time to examine the obvious security issue, who's fault was it that this man was able to get onto our floor? according to HR, it was clearly staff's fault. clearly.

so, thank you, HR department, for keeping me on my toes by threatening my job if i don't close the doors completely. because in addition to my already miscellaneousness-filled job, i would love it if you would please add "security detail" to my list of job responsibilities. don't worry. my 5'6", 1-some-odd-hundred-pound frame will keep us safe.