Posts Tagged ‘writing’

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.

This happened a couple of nights ago. I understand that this is a “Things I Love THURSDAY” post, but it’s taken a couple of days of reflection to fully appreciate that I am still alive. As you know, I am a big fan of the Automated Postal Center because it works nice with my schedule, which basically means being productive at night after all the kids have gone to bed. Before I made the trek to the post office I sent Coral a “goodbye, I’ll be home soon” text.

She never responded because she fell asleep on the couch. And she’s lucky because imagine how bad she would have felt if a mustached man did stab me in the face. The really sad part though would be that my death would have totally been in vain because I didn’t even accomplish what I left the house to do, thanks to the dumb machine at the post office.

Yeah, I would try later, except for I got stabbed in the face, jerk!

I wonder if my mustached murderer would have stolen the package I was trying to mail. How long would my customer have waited before sending me a “Where’s my package, asshole” email? Also, I wonder if Coral would eventually find the email and write the customer back saying something like, “I apologize for the inconvenience of your package not arriving in a timely manner. Because of your order Jeff was stabbed in the face by a mustached man while trying to ship your package using the super convenient Automated Postal Center, that happens to double as a death trap as well as a great way to mail things after hours. We will return your money never because burial costs are crazy expensive and it’s partially your fault we had to bury the guy anyway. Thank you.”

When they notice my short temper, lack of patience and wandering aimlessly around the house rubbing my temples, the bridge of my nose, or my protruding brow the whole family secretly rolls their eyes and silently whispers, “Oh shit…stay away from him. He’s got a headache again.” Another obvious sign that I’m losing a battle with my achy head is that I might be found in bed sometime before 1am. Yes, I get headaches. And they really drag me down.

My theory is that a frontal lobotomy will cure me of migraines forever, but I haven’t had the nerve to test it out…yet. Of all existing remedies out there the only one that has ever worked for me is Excedrin Migraine.

Coffee isn’t something I indulge in and I haven’t swallowed a single drop of soda in months, so my caffeine intake is pretty slim. Excedrin Migraine is full of it. When regular coffee drinkers give up their caffeinated concoctions one of their complaints is the headaches. Oh, the headaches! Quite naturally, too much caffeine has been found to cause headaches. Somewhere there is a balance lurking around. Because a Starbucks can be found every 30 feet, with a local independent coffee shop to stumble upon in between, I could easily have an intravenous supply of Caramel Latte pumping though my system, but I don’t. So, once that Excedrin caffeine soaks into my bloodsteam I start feeling all weird and get as jittery as a jack rabbit. The feeling weird part isn’t so bad, but that jittery sensation takes all the fun out of it.

Sadly, one of these headaches crept up on me last night and I got my hands on some Excedrin Migraine a little after 9pm. Down the hatch! Unfortunately, I am a bit deprived of sleep, which happens to be self-inflicted. I’d blame the baby, but it would be unfair because I’ve been depriving myself from sleep long before Elliott was around. Last night, however, being sleep deprived was great because I totally passed out after medicating myself with caffeine filled pills. It was also after Evelyn rubbed peppermint oil on my temples. And I’m pretty sure I fell asleep with an ice pack on my forehead, which could have been a numbing agent for my lobotomy had the Excedrin not worked its wonders.

I’m not sure how long caffeine messes with your body, but it seemed to have beaten up my sleep deprivation in the fight to overtake and control my body. At 3:20am I woke wide eyed and bushy tailed (again, like a jack rabbit), headache totally eradicated. Rather than pretend to still be sleepy and lay restless in bed for a couple of hours I chose the only logical option. I got up, put on my uniform (jeans and hoodie), grabbed my camera, and went out for a walk.

You know when you’re driving with your significant other and you feel like saying something crude or rude. Not because you want to be rude, of course, but because you are trying your hand at shock humor. Or something like that. Anyway, here is a conversation that went down earlier today while running errands. Let me set the scene for you.

It’s a typical winter day in San Luis Obispo. The sun is out and shining down on us. It’s the middle of December and it’s a gorgeous 70 degrees out. The leaves have finally decided to change color and fall so the streets are covered. We’re at a stop sign waiting to make a left turn. Left turns can sometimes be a real bitch, but we’re patient. Then something happened that sparked some entertainment for us.

A girl turned onto the street we were on and I noticed she was talking on her cell phone. That happens to be a big no no nowadays, so I had to bring it to Coral’s attention.

“The girl that just drove by was talking on the phone. What a slut.”
Not at all phased by my unnecessary vulgarity Coral responds, “Oh, she’s a slut, huh?”
“Well, I don’t know. Maybe.”
Then I had an opening to make my left turn. While turning I saw a truck and immediately blurted out, “Truck Slut!”
“Truck Slut!” Coral laughed.
Then added, “You know those gross Truck Nuts? What if there were ones for the front of the truck that were just boobs hanging down? They could be called Truck Sluts*.”
“So, it’s a transgender truck?”
“Yeah, tranny truck!”

Yes, that’s the future mother of my child. And I couldn’t be more proud.

* The idea of “Truck Sluts” boob hanging automobile accessory belongs to us and if you use the idea for profit we want some serious monies. For reals.

In all likelihood it would take most people five to six wardrobe changes to come up with this outfit, but here’s the thing, I have the ability to craft this look on my first try. It’s a gift I cherished at one time, like an overpriced bar of imported dark chocolate, but now it’s just like whatever. I know my outfits have people weeping with jealousy. And you know what? It’s not that my goal is to make people jealous so much as it is…well, to make them wish they were me. And seriously, with a pig flocked in soft pink on my Pink Floyd shirt, who wouldn’t want to be?

For those of you that know me personally, you can attest to the fact that I’m not posing in the above photo. I know it looks like I am, but I really do stand like this all the time. Especially when I’m out at the clubs. And even moreso when I’m in front of a mirror or a camera.

Ok, now I know what you must be asking yourself. “Out of all the varied styles of clothes in my closet, how could I put together an outfit like Clasahn?” Well, it’s going to be hard to keep up with my systematic stylings, but it can’t hurt to try and I’m here to help you out.

First off, if you decide to go with a hat it’s a must to tilt that sonuvabitch about thirty degrees off center. Next, I can’t stress the importance of a too tight shirt with a band whom you’re not really a fan of. I couldn’t name a Pink Floyd song to save my life. All I know about them is some of the troubled kids back in school wore that ugly “Pink Floyd: The Wall” shirt. The one with that scary face on it. Whenever I wear this shirt I make absolute certain to let people know that I wouldn’t know a Pink Floyd song if I heard one. Naturally, they start singing “We don’t need no education.” At that I just nod and smile because I still have no idea what the hell they’re talking about. After a little research though I just found this sweet video!

The light show in the beginning is so couture! No wonder so many people worship Pink Floyd. I might be a fan now, but don’t tell anybody, please. Because that would mean I can’t wear this super awesome shirt anymore.

The pants are next. Make sure you get them at the Gap when they’re on sale. I strongly encourage you to set up your credit card to earn reward points and to max that thing out as soon as possible. For about $2000 worth of debt you can cash in your rewards for a $50 gift certificate to the Gap. Believe me, it’s worth it! There are two things to keep in mind with your pants. The baggier the better. This trend of guys wearing pants made for twelve year old girls is so passe. Don’t go there, sister. Baggy lets everybody know that no matter how old you get you refuse to let go of the fact that as a teenager you were a full on skater. Once you get the baggy down the next thing to look for is a pair of pants in which the zipper causes an outward protrusion in the front. Sometimes you find a zipper that naturally protrudes inward. Believe me, you don’t want that. The goal here is to have people believe you’ve got a prize winning zucchini trying to burst out of your crotch.

Lastly, we have to fix your shoe situation. Oh, how I love shoes! What a lot of people don’t know is that you always pay full price for shoes. At Ross. Like I did when I bought these in 1998. Nothing screams “sale knockoff” like discounted footwear. So remember, shoes wisely. Haha, get it? Instead of “choose” I said “shoes”. Oh me!

Oh, I forgot to mention something. Always get your pants longer than they need to be.
The reason is this.

You want the pant leg to drag when you walk. Frayed pants bottoms are haute! Normally I don’t tuck mine into the heel of my shoe. I simply did it here to showcase how well the back of my shoes have held up over the years of not running and hiking in them. I have no idea how they’ve gotten so scratched up.