Most places I've worked would give you 8 hours of normal pay for the holiday and time and a half for working it, so 2.5 times normal pay.
My sister is in town for the weekend and her one request was Italian food and Wegmans. Holy shit, 500 dollars, and 8 pounds later... We have eaten like the end times are coming, and it's been glorious. Steak, lasagna, tiramisu.... I feel like a walrus with sleep apnea but it is amazing.
We went to a Basset Hound festival today. Lots of long ears and howling. Although dogs are the greatest, some of their owners freak me out and they take it too far. They act like their entire purpose in life is their dog. Your dog isn’t “people”, it eats it’s own shit.
I was walking into Taco Bell today and behind me I heard "Bro!' I ignored it. And then "HEY BRO!" As much as I wanted to ignore it, I couldn't. "Bro I'm hungry." I bought the guy a burrito. I'm so fucking sick and tired of pan handlers. I get being down on your luck and I'm empathetic as hell...fuck me running if I don't kick out about $50 a week to folks, but Jesus on a pogo stick....can't I go anywhere without someone telling me their fucking sob story and asking for money? I would hate to turn down someone that's actually hungry or desperate enough to ask a stranger for help, but I'm getting really damn close to being that guy you see on some viral video screaming at a homeless person to fuck off and go kill themselves. I should've punched that guy in the face today for calling me Bro...that shit doesn't exactly endear a person to me, but fuck...the guy was hungry and I can't ignore that. I truly hope karma is a thing...if the people I try to help don't actually need help and are just taking advantage of my good nature I hope their genitals catch on fire and someone tries to put the fire out by kicking them as hard as possible.
You would think the effort some people put into making it through life from mooching off and burning people that they could become top-shelf corporate troubleshooters and power players.....there’s real talent and charisma there. The way some shuck and jive and talk the hard-road stories and set up the long con. Instead of selling real estate, they’re using their natural bullshit ability to coax enough money for another bottle of Thunderbird. Coke/crackheads are the absolute worst for that: they are 100% full of shit and would steal the pennies off a dead woman’s eyes. Keep the copper wiring/plumbing locked and hidden from them.
I get that. That's what makes it so difficult for me. I want to help people that genuinely need help. I'm in the position to do so and if I can help someone, that's great. But fuck me running every time I go to a fast food place, buy gas, or go to the grocery store someone has their hand out and a sad story. It's getting to the point that I'm completely jaded and going to tell everyone to fuck off and die. It pisses me off that what small bit of humanity I had left in me has been killed off.
Man, the weather is freaking beautiful here. It has been for weeks and weeks. I need to find a winter gig and be off for the good times. Y'all enjoy your weekend if you are off. Go garden or bbq and soak up your Vitamin D.
You're a better person than me. If you're gonna ask me to feed you, ya better ask a lot fucking nicer than that.
If you’re going to have a massive sports street celebration, Toronto certainly does it correctly (and with kid gloves): ...that’s how happy they are just for making the NBA finals, not winning them.
Toytoy, I thought that you were already completely jaded; I'm quite surprised that you didn't tell the guy to fuck off (if you ever call me "bro," do not expect good treatment.). Think about it this way, next time: the person asking for a handout probably blew all of their money in a casino or on drugs (you DO live in Vegas, after all). In other news, the hiccups can suck a fat dick. Seriously, what biological purpose do they serve? If there was really a God in Heaven, humanity would not be afflicted with diaphragm spasms. (In case you can't tell, I've been hiccuping off and on for most of the afternoon.)
There's something very midwestern about watching a TV meteorologist being excited about a potential tornado while also feeling bad for being excited about it. There was a 6-inch centipede in my kitchen sink today. I turned on the water and drowned it. This was not entirely thought through, as now I have to remove a (probably) dead centipede from my strainer.
Rookie move. You’re supposed to send it straight to hell down the garbage disposal. Plus if you’re on a septic, all that organic matter is a bonus.