Archive for the ‘wtf’ Category

Where Did All My Cocaine Go?

It’s not everyday you find a treasure like this waiting for you at your door in the morning. And what great timing because I was fresh out of needles. It’s like the universe just knew.

Ok, jokes aside. This baggie of mysterious white powder and used needle were found outside the door of my downtown shop. It’s just cute little boutiques in downtown Paso Robles. By night, I guess, it turns into a sleazy shooting factory? Who knows? What I do know is that it’s enough to make me say…

Ok, now let’s talk about how wasteful this junkie is. There is a lot of “stuff” they left behind. I guess when you’re high you’re not thinking about being conservative and thrifty. I mean, you’re high, right? But you do have enough brains to not get caught walking down the street with a bunch of illegal paraphernalia. Well, at least not until you consume some of it. And I guess once you get your fill you just leave all incriminating evidence for me to find, which is fantastic because I really needed a pick me this morning after only getting 2 hours of sleep.

Totally kidding, people. That shit is nasty. Coral and I were shocked to find this and were totally disgusted. Neither one of us realized that this was a thing that happened. Of course, the level of disgust increased significantly when we thought about our 5 year old running around the shop. Imagining your toddler stepping out the side door and walking back in waving a used syringe asking, “What’s this?” is beyond…I don’t even know…beyond words.

With that said…

Dear drug users,

Please clean up after yourself like a responsible adult.

Thanks.
The Management

And for all you readers out there, thanks for tuning in. It’s much appreciated.

See ya!
– Jeff

PS. While looking over this before hitting the “publish” button I noticed the snowman on the baggie. Oh, druggies…your sense of humor always amazes me.

Idiots And Assholes

This is what I saw when I walked out of work a couple of days ago.


Just because you left somebody in the backseat with the door open does not mean you are allowed to park like an idiot. Seriously, with two open spots side by side how hard could it be to park in between the lines? Perhaps this person needs to trade this car in for a Mini Cooper. Or better yet, maybe they need to start taking the bus. Or, even better, stay home. However, this is nothing compared to what awaited me two days later when I got to work in the morning.


Who does this? I’ll tell you. Assholes do this, that’s who. Seriously, what is wrong with people? There is nothing more annoying to me than having to pick up somebody else’s mess. Why do people think it’s ok to do this? There are four containers here. That means it’s safe to assume there were four people (or 2 very hungry ones) eating on/around the bench directly in front of our shop. Probably adults. Not a single one of them noticed the garbage can on the corner, which is about a 15-20 second walk from the bench. Not a single one thought to pick up after their retarded friends. And not a single one spoke up to be all, “Yo, guys…let’s not leave all our shit here.” Should I mention the place their food came from was a 15-20 second walk in the opposite direction of the trash can on the corner and it would have been totally appropriate to walk the trash back to the place where the food came from. To put that another way, these assholes were 15 seconds away in either direction from finding a place to dispose of their trash properly.

Someone parking like an idiot is funny to me. People acting like assholes is not funny. It’s annoying, but hey…it gave me something to write a blog post about. See, inspiration is all around us. Thanks, assheads!

Update 8am: BONUS IDIOT

This person was in front of me and we both pulled up to the curb at the same time to park. She refused to pull forward for some reason and stopped just in front of the red zone. Oh, I know why, because she’s an asshole and an idiot. I won’t say I was “forced” to park in the red zone because of her. I’m an adult willing to take responsibility for my actions and I admittedly chose to park in the red zone as opposed to driving around to find a spot further away from my destination, but I could have been a lot less in the red zone (like just my bumper, maybe) had she pulled forward like a decent human being. The further out of the red zone I could be the greater the chance of not getting a ticket. Hey, you know what? I have photoshop, let’s see how this would look if Miss Poopy Parker did pull forward.


See, my car totally fits!
Ok, I know that’s only half my car, but use your imagination. I’m guessing that half my back tire to the bumper would be in the red zone. And here’s how much of an idiot I am. I honestly contemplated driving back just to get a photo where my whole car would be in frame.

Happy parking!
– Jeff

P.S. – Check out the new “Parisian Princess” t-shirt.

I Need To Move To Iceland Because

Gladly accepting donations for Jamba Juice and other cold treats.

A Shard Of Metal, Some Tweezers And My Eyeball

I know it’s not much in comparison to google searching “nail in eye”, but it still was kind of an ordeal.

That little metal shard was stuck in my eye. It had been there for hours and I thought it was just dust from being on the ranch with my Dad yesterday. When I finally decided to investigate around 1am I was like, “WTF is that?!” I am one of those people that can not touch my eyeball. Is that a thing? Yes, it is. There are people out there that have no problem touching their eyeballs. I try to and my lid involuntarily closes faster than you can say, “I’ve got a finger in my eye.” So, I attempted several times to slide my finger over my eyeball in hopes of snagging the metal shard, but failed at every attempt. Then I tried to flush it out by keeping my eye open while dipping my face in a bowl of water. Fail. Back to eyeball touching. A couple of times I was able to hold my eyelid back and when I ran my finger over the shard I realized it was not just sitting on the surface of my eye, that bitch was STUCK in my eye. That’s when I panicked. Not a lot, but enough to know that I could not go to sleep with a shard of metal sticking in my eye. In fact, it wasn’t even a panic as much as it was one of those, “Shit…now I have to deal with this?” kind of sighs. Also, there was no way I was going to the emergency room for something that didn’t involve a bone poking out of my skin. That’s when I got the bright idea to perform self surgery with a pair of tweezers. After a couple of attempts I successfully grabbed that sonuvabitch and pulled it right out. Like most things stuck to your face it felt A LOT bigger than it actually was. All in all, it was a typical night in The Claassen House.

Shattered iPhone And An Open Letter To The Dark Cloud

Well shit…

I have experienced way too much broken glass this year. For reals.

If things happen in threes, then consider this the bonus round.

Oh, you Dark Cloud that’s been hovering above me the past two months. I sincerely believe it’s time we part ways. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve kept life “interesting”, but if you’ll allow me to be totally frank, not necessarily the brand of interesting I need in my life. Sure, I’ve learned some things because of what you’ve put me through, but I’m done. It’s not me, it’s you.

Sayonara, you sonuvabitch!

– Jeff

I Wanna Go Home, Can You Call Me A Taxi?

True story. This just happened. A lady with a band aid on her face and a John Travolta 70’s hairdo just walked right into the studio, straight to my desk, looked me straight in the eye and said, “I wanna go home. Can you call me a taxi?”

I’m not in a very good mood and I thought she was messing with me so I said no.

Her Travolta 70’s hair bounced a bit as she stared at me in wonderment. People really get thrown sometimes when you tell them no. In my defense, she was also drunk and I’m in no mood to deal with drunk band aid faced ladies. She kept staring at me like I was an idiot, but hey, I’m not the intoxicated broad with a 40 year old hairdo made popular by a male teen idol. When she questioned why I wouldn’t call her a cab I told her I didn’t know the number of any taxi services and I also told her I didn’t think Paso Robles had taxi’s. She shot me her best “you’re full of shit” look, bounced her hair again and walked away without saying anything.

All I could think was, “Finally, something to write a blog post about.” Inspiration is everywhere, people.

Enjoy the rest of your weekend!
– Jeff

PT Loser

I quite enjoy stumbling upon cars parked by people that have been wine tasting all day. It makes me say…

What Happens When You Put Your Shoes On In The Dark

You get to the studio and notice this…

so, yeah…

An Open Letter To Supercuts

Dear Supercuts,

OK fine, so you won’t schedule an appointment. I can deal with that. You’re a fast food version of a hair salon and who in their right mind would get a reservation at the local Wienerschnitzel? Nobody, that’s who. People love fast food because 1. it’s fast and 2. it’s cheap. But not you guys. Why should I have to sit and wait 30 minutes to get my head shaved? Seriously, the actual act of getting my hair cut takes less time than I would have to wait to get the haircut. Also, $17*? WTF is up with that? I didn’t want a cut, color and shampoo. I just want you to grab the shaver and run it over my scalp. That’s it. Easy peasy nice and…shaved. I went to a high end salon once and a men’s haircut was $20 and they serve you tea while you wait and the stylists had all their teeth and weren’t hungover. Oh, they also offered me a hand massage and were clearly not on day three of wearing the same outfit. So, Supercuts, you are now charging salon prices and offering fast food services minus the fast part.

With that said, my dear Supercuts, it is time for me to move on. It’s not me, it’s you.

You won’t be missed.
– Jeff

* UPDATE from Coral (in case you don’t read the comments):
We paid $22 for two haircuts at Woody’s Old Time Barber Shop today, and they will shave your head for $8.

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