You please my pickle and make my panties dance, except when you piss me off
Zellduck and I discovered a new place to buy "special Mountain Dew," a.k.a. Mountain Dew Voltage. I've been hauling my ass and wasting my gas to go out to Eagle (for those unversed in Idaho geography, Eagle is approximately ten miles outside Boise, and for some reason, we tend to take the scenic route on Highway 44) to buy that Mountain Dew. In fact, if I just go to the Stinker station maybe half a mile south of my work on Broadway, there it is! Special Mountain Dew! The most delicious drink there is, behind the awesomeness that is Coke!
So although we'll still be spending money to buy the stupid soda, we'll be saving money on gasoline! And we won't have any excuse to go out to bumfuck Egypt anymore! Yay! :DDD
Work is still bullshit. School is still over. But I found out I got a C in my fuckassed physics class! Take that, stupid, useless, blustering egomaniac of a psychotic professor! BWAHAHA. Your class didn't kick me to the curb the way you probably hoped it would, and it didn't trash my GPA as badly as I feared it would. According to my calculations, I could've afforded to get a D in that class and take the hit to my GPA, but I'll gladly take a C because it means I passed and I get core credit for a science class! Of course, I'll probably take more science - specifically, physics - classes at PSU, because it'd probably be wise to be certified to teach science as well as Japanese and English. Schools these days seem to want more science and math teachers than English teachers, so it's a smart career move, the way I see it. But still... I got a C in physics! That's better than I hoped for!
By my normal standards, a C is unacceptable, but by my standards for myself in that class, it's practically the same thing as getting an A. And after all, C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me. I'm sure the dark side, where the cookies originate, would agree with me.
It's not the north or the south side, after all.
So, um...not much to report. I had an altercation with the freight crew at work last night because they were saying disrespectful things to Kari while she tried to process the truck. That's not the only reason, though; they were also throwing boxes so hard that they formed a gigantic mess in the back room and blocked the path between our side of the backroom and the GM side. Which, by the way, is a fire hazard and a safety violation, as well as poor treatment of the product in those boxes. They were throwing boxes hard enough to knock over a pile of totes that was stacked four high, which means it was about six feet tall (the maximum they can stack, because us girls in apparel are too short to reach higher than that - not safely, at least). Well, I go back there and bitch them out, but they blew me off and made fun of my accent, then proceeded to bitch Kari out when I left. They said, "If you didn't bitch all the time, you'd get your job done," and I'm sure they told her not to tattle to me again. Well, fuck them. Fuck them hard and fast with something that has barbs and rips their rectums to pieces. The fuckers.
I eventually solved the problem when I was called up to the managers' office with Joe and Ken (the GM supervisor and the unofficial freight leader, respectively) and told Ken off for being a discourteous brute who needed to get his freight team under control and take the time to make a decent pile. He told me they were understaffed and I was like, "I understand having a bad night. We have bad nights on the floor. But when you're saying things to upset my girls and you're making a mess, we can't do our jobs, either." I said I was sorry for being a bitch, but "I'm not sorry for calling you on it." I think I made a good point. When I brought it up to Alisha today, she said she was gonna talk to Cyndi, the GM manager, because of the safety hazard presented by large of boxes blocking the way to emergency exits. Once again, BWAHA and BOM BOM BOM BUM BA DOM BUM BA DOM (that's the Imperial March, the way I sing it out loud ^^6). Talyn to the rescue, Talyn kicking ass and taking names.
When people do wrong, they deserve to be called on it. Justice is justice. I did concede that if Kari was giving Ken and the freight team lip, they needed to come to me first rather than haranguing her. I said, "If she or Katie gives you trouble, call me and I'll deal with them, 'cause I'm the boss on my floor tonight."
Nevertheless, if they say anything else to make Kari or Katie cry - and Kari did break down and cry - I will stomp on their balls so hard, they'll be lucky to wipe up the blood and bits with one bucket of water. Don't fuck with me or my girls, or I fuck your shit up and make you taste it when I pull my foot out of your ass. Atolay, tell 'em! >DDD
Yeah. Yeah, yeah. That was when I ruled apparel. But even my long reign must come to an end, like all good things and so on.
"War is a survival among us from savage times and affects now chiefly the boyish and unthinking element of the nation."
It's not really war between freight and apparel, or apparel and GM, but sometimes, it seems close enough.
So although we'll still be spending money to buy the stupid soda, we'll be saving money on gasoline! And we won't have any excuse to go out to bumfuck Egypt anymore! Yay! :DDD
Work is still bullshit. School is still over. But I found out I got a C in my fuckassed physics class! Take that, stupid, useless, blustering egomaniac of a psychotic professor! BWAHAHA. Your class didn't kick me to the curb the way you probably hoped it would, and it didn't trash my GPA as badly as I feared it would. According to my calculations, I could've afforded to get a D in that class and take the hit to my GPA, but I'll gladly take a C because it means I passed and I get core credit for a science class! Of course, I'll probably take more science - specifically, physics - classes at PSU, because it'd probably be wise to be certified to teach science as well as Japanese and English. Schools these days seem to want more science and math teachers than English teachers, so it's a smart career move, the way I see it. But still... I got a C in physics! That's better than I hoped for!
By my normal standards, a C is unacceptable, but by my standards for myself in that class, it's practically the same thing as getting an A. And after all, C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me. I'm sure the dark side, where the cookies originate, would agree with me.
It's not the north or the south side, after all.
So, um...not much to report. I had an altercation with the freight crew at work last night because they were saying disrespectful things to Kari while she tried to process the truck. That's not the only reason, though; they were also throwing boxes so hard that they formed a gigantic mess in the back room and blocked the path between our side of the backroom and the GM side. Which, by the way, is a fire hazard and a safety violation, as well as poor treatment of the product in those boxes. They were throwing boxes hard enough to knock over a pile of totes that was stacked four high, which means it was about six feet tall (the maximum they can stack, because us girls in apparel are too short to reach higher than that - not safely, at least). Well, I go back there and bitch them out, but they blew me off and made fun of my accent, then proceeded to bitch Kari out when I left. They said, "If you didn't bitch all the time, you'd get your job done," and I'm sure they told her not to tattle to me again. Well, fuck them. Fuck them hard and fast with something that has barbs and rips their rectums to pieces. The fuckers.
I eventually solved the problem when I was called up to the managers' office with Joe and Ken (the GM supervisor and the unofficial freight leader, respectively) and told Ken off for being a discourteous brute who needed to get his freight team under control and take the time to make a decent pile. He told me they were understaffed and I was like, "I understand having a bad night. We have bad nights on the floor. But when you're saying things to upset my girls and you're making a mess, we can't do our jobs, either." I said I was sorry for being a bitch, but "I'm not sorry for calling you on it." I think I made a good point. When I brought it up to Alisha today, she said she was gonna talk to Cyndi, the GM manager, because of the safety hazard presented by large of boxes blocking the way to emergency exits. Once again, BWAHA and BOM BOM BOM BUM BA DOM BUM BA DOM (that's the Imperial March, the way I sing it out loud ^^6). Talyn to the rescue, Talyn kicking ass and taking names.
When people do wrong, they deserve to be called on it. Justice is justice. I did concede that if Kari was giving Ken and the freight team lip, they needed to come to me first rather than haranguing her. I said, "If she or Katie gives you trouble, call me and I'll deal with them, 'cause I'm the boss on my floor tonight."
Nevertheless, if they say anything else to make Kari or Katie cry - and Kari did break down and cry - I will stomp on their balls so hard, they'll be lucky to wipe up the blood and bits with one bucket of water. Don't fuck with me or my girls, or I fuck your shit up and make you taste it when I pull my foot out of your ass. Atolay, tell 'em! >DDD
Yeah. Yeah, yeah. That was when I ruled apparel. But even my long reign must come to an end, like all good things and so on.
"War is a survival among us from savage times and affects now chiefly the boyish and unthinking element of the nation."
It's not really war between freight and apparel, or apparel and GM, but sometimes, it seems close enough.