I’m so tired of paypal. Every time I deal with them its nothing but a hassle. Not to mention the current situation they are in with wikileaks and not giving them any of the money they are holding. They did the same thing with the maker of the indie game Minecraft. They wouldn’t give him his money because he made way too much money too fast and they thought it was fraud. Granted they finally gave him his cash, but he should have had it sooner.
But whats pissing me off now is this. I’ve had my account with them for well over 4 years now. I’ve used them twice, and that was right away. I haven’t even signed into it in forever. However, lately, they have decided to send me 4 to 5 emails a day offering me 40% off items and services I 100% don’t want! I can’t delete these things fast enough. I’m about to flag them as spam so I don’t have to read it, but god forbid if someone actually hacked my paypal account and they tried to warn me it’d go to spam.
Amazon is another one. I’ve never bought anything from them. Ever. And they are blowing up my email like an ex-girlfriend that wants her lost hoodie back and swears that I have it. Both of these companies funny enough wiped their hands of Wikileaks. Maybe they are trying to keep a hold of as many people as they can. Then again most people will continue to use both companies since they probably don’t know what Wikileaks is. They probably get it confused with wikipedia and think its a sister site for plumbers.
tl;dr Fuck paypal/amazon.
no idea when I will continue
12 hour work day. Nothing funny happened, everything pissed me off. Now its time for food, booze and video games.
Oh man, I remember this one like it was yesterday. Nothing exciting has been happening lately, so I’m reaching into the vault for some of these. Not only did this make me laugh, but it helped break the ice with a new co-worker. I learned that day that he had just as much of a messed up sense of humor that I did.
I think it was early spring. Maybe late fall last year, I can’t remember. Jacket weather, I do know that. We are heading to our Thursday morning hospital, Mercy, downtown. We are driving up Calvert street when we got cut off by one of these damn bikers. I don’t mean a guy on a motorcycle, but I mean a damn bicycle. Not only that, but he had all that fucking spandex on with numbers and logos and shit.
Well, as he cut us off the light changed to yellow, and anyone who’s ever driven in the city knows you have about long enough to utter “mother f—” before the light changes to red. The instant the light changed to red, I guess this guy thought he was going to stop or something. I honestly have no idea what exactly happened, all I know is when I heard my co-worker begin to curse I looked up.
For some reason the first thing I looked at was this guy on the bike. As soon as I looked at him, his front tire slammed to a halt, and he went flying over his handle bars. My god did he fly. The impact was just as nice. He almost got hit by a car coming from the other direction, but damn them, they were paying attention.
He hurries to his feet, shoos people away who are tryin to help him, and picks up his bike. He wanted to seem so macho. That he didn’t need help, he could do it on his own. No way in hell. He had one of those falls that makes your knees collapse whenever you try to walk. Every step he took he was falling down.
Needless to say, I was about ready to piss my pants at this point. He looked directly at us as we drove by and we were both pointing and laughing our asses off. That’s what you get for cutting us off your ass, instant karma. The best part was as we drove down the road, my co-worker looked at me and said “Is it bad that I kinda wanted something like that to happen?”, “Not at all” I replied, “If I had that power, I’d do it to everyone I could”.
That day forward we enjoy working together.
I love strangers. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean I love meeting them and getting to know them, forget that. I like the idea of watching random people walking buy and trying to figure out who they are. Forming back stories and histories about them based solely on appearance and physical traits.
There is a guy we see every Monday. Older gentleman. Tweed sports coat, fully beard and looks as if he is about three quarts low on blood. This man loves to smoke. Smoke a pipe even. The long kind that bends down, looking like Sherlock Holmes. And I when I say he loves to smoke, he just LOVES to smoke. We’ve watched him come outside 4 times in one hour before. I’d love to be able to have that many breaks in one day.
I love seeing the random characters throughout the day. There is another guy, who I swear to god I need to get a picture of, because he is a dead ringer for Stan Lee. I mean, exactly like him. And then you have the completely random people. The people that briefly enter your world as they walk by. And can I just ask this now, why the hell do people STARE SO MUCH!?
The majority of my Monday I’m sitting in a van. That’s it. The van isn’t on fire, its not making noise, its not even on! So why, WHY do people decide they need to stare directly into my soul as they walk by? Plus, not only that, they walk unusually close to the van as they do it.
I hate talking to weird strangers. And pretty much, if I don’t know you, you’re weird to me. In my work I have learned to do it, but I do not enjoy it. More so than anything is I’m tired of the people who I guess aren’t really strangers, cause I see them all the time, but the type of people that you’d never talk to outside of a professional setting.
Perfect example: People love to make little jokes with us as we enter their office. “Its santa claus!”, or “Hey shredder, did you catch those turtles yet?”. Can I just tell you something now, your jokes ARE NOT funny. I’ve heard them all before, they have never made me laugh, they never will. I will chuckle and smile inside of your office, but as soon as I leave I want to board up the door and light the building on fire.
Or these random people that decide to tell me jokes in the hallway. There is this one guy, he reminds me of Hank Hills father. He’s about 5 foot, and he wabbles as if he has no kneecaps. And he has the worst jokes! The following is a joke, verbatim, that he told me today:
“So I told her, if you want to buy that sweater, I’ll need to take out a second loan!”
That was it!? WTF am I supposed to do with something like that? I honestly just wanted to crap my pants so I had an excuse to walk away. And the worst is when you see these people multiple times in a day. They always feel like they have to start up where they had left off earlier. I hate you, do not talk to me!
Even worse than that, while sitting in the van, waiting for the truck to show up, I’m shooting the shit with my co-worker when I see his eyes get really big. He’s not talking anymore and just staring, eyes wider than hell. I turn around and there is that little dumpling man just waving at me from the other side of the window. And I don’t mean he was in the view of the window, he was foggin the damn thing up!
Scared the shit out of me. I am completely happy all day to just do my job and not speak to anyone, but they all always have some little quip or joke or something and it makes me want to find out if the shredder would destroy a human body or not. Basically I think it narrows down to the fact that strangers are fine, as long as they don’t talk or look at me!
There is a homeless guy that sits by the trashcan outside of the 7-11 on Broadway in the city. He asks everyone for money as they come in or go out. I watched him get turned down for about 3 minutes, and began to feel bad, then he pulled out a cell phone and made a phone call. What the shit is this? You have a cell phone but you still need hand outs? What, do you need to buy more minutes? Get rollover already!
Its just like these “homeless” people you see on the sides of the road. Anyone driving down route 1 has probably seen the people sitting at Rt. 1 and 195 begging for money. They sit there all day, then walk to burger king, stop at the liquor store, then GO HOME. They have a house on Main Street! They are just lazy and want your money!
It kills me that these people just come up to you and ask you for money, and 9 people out of 10 will make some kind of excuse to why they can’t give them money. I’ve begun to be that 1, where I just flat out say no. They never know what to say. The last guy asked “what do you mean no?”, and I said, plain as day “No. Its my money and you can’t have it”. He was speechless. My coworker told me I was mean. Fuck that noise.
I’m so tired of money. Don’t get me wrong, I love having it and spending it. What I hate more so is the power that it seems to hold over some people. I don’t pretend I have some good job paying lots of money, but I do think I am good controlling the money I do have. I pay all my bills, I put as much away as I can, and I spend it when I choose.
I have no problem going out and dropping money on a birthday dinner, or just a regular old dinner, cause I like to enjoy myself and money allows that to happen. What bothers me though is when people assume that I will pay for them. People that make plans to go out and do things (that cost money) knowing damn well they do not have it. I am not your personal expense account.
Lending money is just as bad. If you work a full time job and you can’t afford your bills, why in gods name would I lend you money? You obviously can’t live in your means, so why would I believe you’d ever pay me back? And the worst part is, as soon as you say no, they take offense at it! Like somehow I’m less of a friend because I won’t lend you $40 because you’ve spent all your money on god only knows.
Money can ruin friendships so quickly. I’ve watched it happen. They always borrow it with the best intentions of paying it back. At least that’s what I believe. I have to, otherwise I’d never lend another person a dollar ever again. But they always tell you they’ll pay you back on some day, then that day comes and you never hear from them. I’m not going to hunt you down for $20, I could care less about it, just don’t expect me to trust you in the future.
Another one that gets me is when people say things like, “Lend me a dollar for a soda”, or “pick me up (item) on your way and I’ll hit you back”. Do you really expect to come up to me days later and pay back that dollar? Please. Or are you actually going to pay me back for whatever you needed me to pick up? Also doubtful. I guess I have to start asking for it, but if it was offered, why must I pursue it?
I hate having to get all serious on here. I like to keep things upbeat. Then again I guess it is my blog and if I’m to write my thoughts anywhere, this is the best spot. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll see some crazy things. Fridays are usually good for that. That’s where the pickles sub, road barrel and elevator man all came from. Fingers crossed for tomorrow!
Why is it the majority of the people I see in wheelchairs now a days are just lazy people? Not only that, but have you seen the size of standard wheelchairs? They are huge! Its almost as if they don’t make them for people who are paralyzed, but people who are just too damn fat to walk. They are going to be sold in isle 3 of walmart before you know it!
I saw a gentleman slowly wheeling himself through a intersection. The light was going to change soon. I thought surely people were going to start honking at him. Someone who was going through the crosswalk behind him proceeded to help me across. Once on the other side, the guy puts his feet down and beings to pull himself along. What the hell? If he had some kinda tray in front of him, and a umbrella on top, he’d look like a broke Fred Flintstone. Which is pretty bad, cause didn’t they use clams for money?
He shimmys his way up to the front of a 7-11, where he proceeds to STAND UP AND GO INSIDE! If you’re not crippled, why are you using a wheelchair? Do you just want your trips downhill to be that much more fun? I don’t get it. Is the hierarchy for transportation now car > bus > bike > skateboard > feet > wheelchair?
And the ones inside hospitals? Oh my lord people. I sat in one once, and I thought I was waiting for a freaking copilot! And the sad thing is, I’ve seen people who can’t fit in them! They are even too wide to get through some doors. They actually made the woman stand up, walk through the door, fold the chair up, bring it through then reengage the laziness that is America.
Btw, screw spell check for making me put a capital A in america. No more I say. Rebel.
And it always seems to be the down right dirty, possibly homeless, more than likely crazy people who have them. Where do they get them!? Is there some crazy person homeless depot that I don’t know about? Selling wheelchairs, shopping carts, pants made out of old children blankets, coats you can wear all year around and books of crazy gibberish you can shout at people in hopes of getting money?
I fear they are just taking them from places. I’m sure they can get away with it too! Security at, I won’t mention the name, lets just say its the worlds best hospital, is seriously poor. I’ve watched many a patient, hooked up to god knows how many machines, walk right outside, dead of winter, hospital gown, just to smoke. I’ve even seen one make it a block away to burger king.
Well, that’s it. Just a quick one. I just picked up Scott Pilgrim vs. The World on blu ray and I hear it calling my name! Take care and keep on wheelin!!
Yeah, sorry about that. I saw nothing interesting today. Tuesdays are my hardest days at work, and today was harder than normal. My eyes were down and my feet were moving the entire time. I was too exhausted after work to even thing of something funny.
Then I had more shit to do after work. Random shit. All in all my day is over already and I have nothing to show for it. Maybe tomorrow something epic will happen and I can make up for it.
So I was out to dinner with an old friend from high school the other night, and quite a rather odd conversation came up. I do not know what brought this topic up, cause I was in the bathroom at the time, but when I came back she was talking to her sister about condiments. The temperature of condiments to be exact. I had no idea such a favoritism existed. I had to know more.
Apparently, there are people out there, that will only use condiments that are a certain temperature. Is this common? Have I been hiding under a rock? I asked her to go on. She explained how a friend of hers needed to have two bottles of ketchup in the house at all times. He only liked it cold and his g/f only liked it room temperature. I guess some people will really argue about anything now a days.
Now normally people just absorb something like this and let that be that. I, however, can’t do that. My imagination just had to grab this little tid bit of information and run absolutely wild with it, as it always does.
I imagine a husband and wife, peacefully enjoying a night at home. Dinner is finished. No one eats at a kitchen table anymore, so they adopted TV trays in the living room. Pork chops and french fries. You can see where this is going. The husband politely asks his dear wife to bring him some ketchup for his fries. She is happy to oblige. She grabs the ketchup from the kitchen and brings it to him. He gloriously drowns his fries with the red gold. This is going to be one good dinner.
Wait, what is this? Warm? Warm ketchup? Blind rage. He loses it. Tray table flipped over, dinner takes flight. Enraged he begins to yell at his wife. List after list of how hard his days are, how much he sacrifices to give her the life she has grown accustomed to. How every man is to be king of their castle, and that a king should at least be able to have cold ketchup.
This eventually ends up with him storming out, her packing her stuff and heading to her mothers. Then divorce, blah blah, etc etc.
Of course I act out this whole story to my co-worker as we are going down the street. He found it funny enough to have to pull over to wipe the tears from his eyes. I realized exactly how messed up I must be to come up with this crazy kinda shit on the spot. And at that moment I realized that something like that could have very well happened before.
I’m all for knowing what one likes, but really? Do we really need to get to the point where we have a preference on the temperature of our condiments? I mean, if you think about it, you’re putting it on hot food anyway, right? Wouldn’t that just end up making it warm in the end?
I dunno, it was a rather slow day and this was the only thing that came to mind, lol. But I have to ask, do any of your crazy people out there reading this have different preferences like this when it comes to condiments?
I know, I know, I talk about them a lot. But when your job is essentially a reverse delivery man, you have to use these things more than you use a toilet. Unless you’re me then that’s very false. Damn you taco bell, damn you to your delicious hell you came from. Now I’m hungry, damn it. Wait, what was I talking about? Oh yeah.
Elevators are not a hard thing to understand, however even the most educated PhD seems to be mystified by the workings of these steel boxes. If you don’t find anything in this little rant of mine humorous, please at least find some of it educational. These are a few tips to make sure people around you don’t want to murder you in your sleep.
- For god’s sake, look at the button as you approach it. If you see it is lit, DO NOT press it again! The manufacturer that makes the buttons for these elevators is the same person that makes the buttons for crosswalks. They do not have the technology yet to develop button technology that senses urgency.
- If you do not have the time to wait for more than 8 seconds for an elevator, please do not hit a button. I’ve watched way too many times a doctor hit the button, arms to hips, sigh, then hit the stairs all in under 10 seconds. However you do get a good feeling as soon as the door to the stairs close and the elevator shows up, now going in your direction. :)
- If you are on the first floor and you want to go up, but the elevator opens and is going down, DO NOT GET ON IT! You want up, not down you moron. The elevator is going down because someone below you wants to go up. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been in the sub basement, steam pipes and all, and the freight, yes, freight elevator comes down, opens up and is full of people. “Well, you all wanted to go down, cause you got on a down elevator, so come on off! You can’t go any further down unless you stay on there and I send you to the hell you all so rightfully deserve”
- When on the elevator, I understand you want to keep distance from other people, but when the door opens and you see someone with a cart or equipment or anything, MOVE THE FUCK OVER! Not back, over. Going to the back of the elevator won’t do a damn thing but allow me to only get halfway on. Not your fault that most elevators are only the size of a closet in a New York studio apartment, but still.
- Please, while waiting for the elevator on a floor, remember the fact that other people in the world still exist. We have not vaporized and turned to dust. Stand away from the door. You don’t win a prize if you are in the elevator before the doors have stopped opening. So many times have I seen someone go to rush on only to realize, “Omg, there are people on there?!”. Same goes for exiting. Don’t rush to get off, cause when its the wrong floor we all laugh inside.
- Notice your surroundings. There are usually at least 3 or 4 ways to tell what floor you are on. Get off on the one you want and ONLY the one you want. Also, look above the door while waiting for it to arrive. There are arrows, lights, signs, something indicating the direction of travel. Don’t ask us which way we are going, that’s pointless. Almost as pointless as my father saying “Its your father” every time he calls my phone. I know. I’ve had caller ID since 1990. I know who it is.
- If you are on the elevator, and it is full, and it stops on a floor, and someone with some kinda card or luggage or something is there, he knows he can’t get on. Don’t say “next time”, or “Can’t you take the stairs?”. Don’t even say sorry. And for the love of god, don’t fucking stare at us. Nothing makes us feel stupider than rushing towards opening doors with 600lbs of paper then having to jam on the brakes cause its full.
I think that’s about all I have for now. I spend more time on these things than I’d like to admit. Please follow these few rules and make my day a little better. Anyone doing a delivery will be greatly appreciative to you for this. And hey, who knows, maybe next time UPS won’t “lose” your package!
