Posted: 12/16/2002 12:40:44 PM EDT
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I've been in and out all day. When I was paying for my second to last Christmas present, the guy behind the register was a smart ass....nothing I could nail down, just an attitude. Anyway, he told me to "have a nice day," but there was something in his voice I really didn't like. So I let him have it. "You sorry little bastard, who the hell do you think you are telling me what kind of day to have! FYI, I am a United States Citizen and I'll have WHATEVER kind of day I want! and I don't need some whelp like you telling me what to do!" R.Lee would have been proud of me. Must be the season, but it sure made me feel pretty good watching him crumple.....I don't really do very well around the Christmas season for reasons I won't get into here.I generally don't wish bad on others, but this little smart-ass had a certain air about him that just seemed to bring it out of me. Anyone else get testy this time of year? |
| Too many people are far too sensitive and/or dangerous for me to hassle anyone too much. My distaste for this time of season comes mostly from seeing those people who get all bent out of shape trying to have a nice Christmas. To me, enjoying the holidays is more about not getting bent out of shape despite one's difficulties. I just can't understand the way some people approach this season. Anyway, I hope you can relax and enjoy the rest of the season. |
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I am certainly guilty of it. I nearly told some fatty-patty today to get the fuck out of my way, but figured with the season and all I'd let her go. I think the season makes me less obnoxious in my actions and words, but pisses me off more than ever. I just spend the rest of the year letting off steam that built up over the X-mas season, lol. |
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A few years back the wife and I were out shopping and some punk peeled himself off the wall and bumped her pretty hard. I bumped him hard as I stuck him back on the wall. A little later some kid is walking towards me and I see him drop his shoulder like he intends to bump me hard. I braced for it and stuck my arm out straight giving the f--ker a clothesline. With this much "fun" at the mall, I don't even shop after Thanksgiving anymore. My feminist democrapic step-daughters think I ought to be out banging bodies with the rest of the idiots trying to find that perfect present. NFW. |
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Quoted: Quoted: Anyone else get testy this time of year? Screw you! Whoops! I mean "Merry Christmas" [;)] LOL!! Reminds me of the scene in "My Blue Heaven" where Steve Martin (playing a mob informant in the witness protection program) goes to a suburban grocery store: Clerk: "Have nice day." Martin: "F*ck you!!" |
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A couple of weeks ago, I was dropping off some stuff at FedEx. I usually park several spots away from the door, just because, well, I'm a generally able-bodied male. This doofus is some Jap thing is parked sideways partly across the HC parking, and partly across the yellow-crossed part in front of the HC ramp. Me: "You're kind of parked in the handicapped space, there, chief." Doofus: " " Me: "But, of course, you probably don't give a shit." Doofus: " " So I head on into the place, and I notice that Doofus has his arms full of whatever it is he's carrying into the place. Just as I get inside the door, and the door is just open enough that he could have gotten in, I pulled it shut from the inside. Ha! Doofus finally comes in and mutters, "You're a really nice guy" behind my back. I drop off my packages, turn around, look him right in the eye, (well, spiky gel-soaked hair, anyway) and give him the ol' short-and-sweet, "Fuck off." So I'm back outside, in my truck, making sure to take my time as Doofus gets back into his Jap whatever and waits for me to back out. Me? Surly? Fuck you! |
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Quoted: A couple of weeks ago, I was dropping off some stuff at FedEx. I usually park several spots away from the door, just because, well, I'm a generally able-bodied male. This doofus is some Jap thing is parked sideways partly across the HC parking, and partly across the yellow-crossed part in front of the HC ramp. Me: "You're kind of parked in the handicapped space, there, chief." Doofus: " " Me: "But, of course, you probably don't give a shit." Doofus: " " So I head on into the place, and I notice that Doofus has his arms full of whatever it is he's carrying into the place. Just as I get inside the door, and the door is just open enough that he could have gotten in, I pulled it shut from the inside. Ha! Doofus finally comes in and mutters, "You're a really nice guy" behind my back. I drop off my packages, turn around, look him right in the eye, (well, spiky gel-soaked hair, anyway) and give him the ol' short-and-sweet, "Fuck off." So I'm back outside, in my truck, making sure to take my time as Doofus gets back into his Jap whatever and waits for me to back out. Me? Surly? Fuck you! You sir, are the man. |
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Quoted: A couple of weeks ago, I was dropping off some stuff at FedEx. I usually park several spots away from the door, just because, well, I'm a generally able-bodied male. This doofus is some Jap thing is parked sideways partly across the HC parking, and partly across the yellow-crossed part in front of the HC ramp. Me: "You're kind of parked in the handicapped space, there, chief." Doofus: " " Me: "But, of course, you probably don't give a shit." Doofus: " " So I head on into the place, and I notice that Doofus has his arms full of whatever it is he's carrying into the place. Just as I get inside the door, and the door is just open enough that he could have gotten in, I pulled it shut from the inside. Ha! Doofus finally comes in and mutters, "You're a really nice guy" behind my back. I drop off my packages, turn around, look him right in the eye, (well, spiky gel-soaked hair, anyway) and give him the ol' short-and-sweet, "Fuck off." So I'm back outside, in my truck, making sure to take my time as Doofus gets back into his Jap whatever and waits for me to back out. Me? Surly? Fuck you! Reminds me of an incident that I had a few years ago. I stopped at a Whataburger in Houston and noticed a Harris County constable cruiser parked in the handicapped slot. After entering the joint, I noticed the officer eating his dinner at one of the tables. In a louder than normal voice I commented to my friend, "I didn't realize Harris County hired handicapped constables."[}:D] After the constable shot me a dirty look, he got up and moved his car to one of the many other empty slots in the parking lot. That just made my evening. |
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Quoted: Anyone else get testy this time of year? Yea, what the f-ck is it to you? Now you got me started. As a matter of fact I go to get a #6 this morning at McD's. I drive off and the bag feels light. They gave me a f-cking #3!. I fly around the building like Maverick doing a go around, cut off a box truck, storm into the building, drop the bag on the counter and say, "How in the hell can you screw-up a breakfast burrito order." The fat urchin behind the counter say, "It looks like they rang it up as a #3 what did you order?" As my head finishes the first full revolution I mutter, "A #6." She then waddles off and some kid gets my order and at that point all was ok and I left. Whew! I feel better now. |
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My friend gets a little mad on the holidays: (this is from his website) Yeah, it's getting to be _that_ fucking time of year again. Fuckin' snow and fuckin' shopping (great fun when one's unemployed... "hi, ma, here's your Christmas gift... yeah, it's an Arby's coupon, you're welcome... where's the eggnog?") and fuckin' decoratin' and fuckin' shovellin' and... well, fuck. I dunno; I used to really like this time of year. The city, frankly, looks a fuck of a lot better when it's covered in pretty white snow, at least for the first twenty minutes before said snow turns grey with soot and car exhaust and the tears of a million grimy factory workers just punchin' clock 'til they die. Temperature-wise, I've always preferred being a bit chilly to being warm, mostly due to an incredibly unfortunate combination of shitty genetics, bulky mass, and general entropy that now causes my skin to leak like Elvis' after a four day meth'n'bacon binge in any temperature north of 55 degrees. However, in the last year or so I've noticed that my body likes cold less and less (aging... fucking sucks). While I used to blithely walk a mile and a half through raging snow and triple-negative-digit windchills to get to a bus for an hourlong commute to the Loop wearing nothing more than jeans, a sweatshirt, and a mug of Dunkin's to keep my hands warm, now I won't even check the mailbox without putting on three layers of LL Bean Xtreme Skinsulator Baby Veal Skin if it's after September. Fuck you. Add to this the sublime joy of the Holiday season. Actually, don't. There's nothing joyful about the fucking holidays anymore. There were about two good holiday years when I was makin' dough, the family was doing good, I had a woman in my life that didn't make me want to slam my cock repeatedly between the toilet seat and the toilet itself in order to shatter her vile hold over me and the brand-new sublime glories of online shopping made it possible to buy $3000 worth of gifts for 27 fucking people in less time than it takes to have one quality self-induced orgasm so that I could spend the rest of the holiday season warmly and happily huddled on a couch watching "It's A Wonderful Life" 47 times in a lightly-drunken haze, arising only to let a very rambunctious pup who happens to be amazingly well-suited to things wintry out so she could cutely and with amazing energy dig the Second Coming of the Maginot Line out in the snow-filled backyard. Those few years... were grand. Nowadays... well, kids, online xmas shoppin' is no fun when your bank's website laughs at you, sends a virus to everyone in your address book, and then reboots your computer six times in a row when you try to login to check how much more negative the ol' account balance got today. Of the last three women I gave a flyin' fuck about, two of 'em won't talk to me anymores and the third only calls when she needs drugs. The formerly rambunctious pup is now an old dog who only stirs long enough to demand a treat so that she can get the energy to move to a different spot for her next nap. Fuck you, too. And "It's A Wonderful Life" is only on once a year now. There's not enough booze in all of Ireland to make me warm up to the idea of winter and the holidays this year. My only goal at this point is to make it through the grey, grey depths of a Chicago winter without pulling a Pearl Harbor on as many "loved ones" as I can get close to while wearing a suspicious-looking belt made of the finest in volatile Czech plastics. So, take yer shiny gift-wrap, yer overwrought Xmas decorations that you're gonna leave on your house, blinking mad prisms of greenish-red hellfire into my bedroom until April, yer fuckin' Arab kids pimping Christian Christmas carols at my door for cash (seriously... what in the name of fuck is up with that?), yer car-stucking, falling-on-the-ass-inducing, gonna-give-me-that-great-big-tagger-so's-i-can-go-do-blow-with-redd-foxx-in-heaven piles of thick, wet snow, and shove 'em up your job-havin', gift-buyin', love-warmed fat asses. Yeah, he's a little mad. |
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Quoted: Quoted: A couple of weeks ago, I was dropping off some stuff at FedEx. I usually park several spots away from the door, just because, well, I'm a generally able-bodied male. This doofus is some Jap thing is parked sideways partly across the HC parking, and partly across the yellow-crossed part in front of the HC ramp. Me: "You're kind of parked in the handicapped space, there, chief." Doofus: " " Me: "But, of course, you probably don't give a shit." Doofus: " " So I head on into the place, and I notice that Doofus has his arms full of whatever it is he's carrying into the place. Just as I get inside the door, and the door is just open enough that he could have gotten in, I pulled it shut from the inside. Ha! Doofus finally comes in and mutters, "You're a really nice guy" behind my back. I drop off my packages, turn around, look him right in the eye, (well, spiky gel-soaked hair, anyway) and give him the ol' short-and-sweet, "Fuck off." So I'm back outside, in my truck, making sure to take my time as Doofus gets back into his Jap whatever and waits for me to back out. Me? Surly? Fuck you! Reminds me of an incident that I had a few years ago. I stopped at a Whataburger in Houston and noticed a Harris County constable cruiser parked in the handicapped slot. After entering the joint, I noticed the officer eating his dinner at one of the tables. In a louder than normal voice I commented to my friend, "I didn't realize Harris County hired handicapped constables."[}:D] After the constable shot me a dirty look, he got up and moved his car to one of the many other empty slots in the parking lot. That just made my evening. haha now that's priceless |
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I typically rise above the scum and very rarely let them get my dander up. They simply aren't worth my time or energy. I have a "don't fuck with me" look aquired from the many ghettos and slum markets I've seen around the world. Being a bit on the size large might have something to do with it. Look like prey and you get screwed with, look like a predator and they keep their distance. I've been mistaken for an under cover cop - had a kid tell me that I dropped my badge and then tell his buddies five-o. I smiled and the group of young kids who cleared away as me and Mrs. Paul walked though their street corner. I don't shop on weekends and avoid driving around 2:00 to 3:30 when all the moms are out picking up their litters and those old enough to drive but not smart enough to know better are out driving. |
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Quoted: Anyone else get testy this time of year? Well, maybe, but if I did I wouldn't tell [b]you[/b] about it, for fear you'd be mean to me. [:O] LMAO [:D] A quick story from a year ago right now: I was heading into Sam's Club to pick up a giant-sized pack of toilet paper with my wife. (I swear she eats that stuff.) Anyway, as we are walking toward the entrance we pass the three dozen handicapped stalls near the door and I see a guy taking pictures of a little red sports car parked in a handicapped stall, but w/o the handicapped plates or placard. These handicapped stall nazi's take a pic and make a report to the local PD, then the vehicle's owner gets a ticket for $200--even if the car was loaned to someone else. I never park in the H stalls, but the kicker here is the guy taking the pic was parked in the next stall--you guessed it--HANDICAPPED STALL!!! I stopped, my wife grabbed my arm, sensing a confrontation, and said, "Let's go!" Wives are no fun, of course. I pulled away, and said, "Excuse me! Why are you doing that while you are guilty of the same f***ing thing?" I glared as menacingly as I could muster and he nearly shit himself. He stammered, "Well, I'll only be here for a second." I said, "That's no doubt what the moron in the red car would say--f***ing hypocrite!" I stayed and glared at him until he finally put his tail between his legs, stopped writing the report and got in his car and sped off. Those bastards are as bad as the anti-smoking nazi's. (Oh, I don't smoke or park in handicapped stalls.) [;)] |
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Quoted: A few years back the wife and I were out shopping and some punk peeled himself off the wall and bumped her pretty hard. I bumped him hard as I stuck him back on the wall. A little later some kid is walking towards me and I see him drop his shoulder like he intends to bump me hard. I braced for it and stuck my arm out straight giving the f--ker a clothesline. With this much "fun" at the mall, I don't even shop after Thanksgiving anymore. My feminist democrapic step-daughters think I ought to be out banging bodies with the rest of the idiots trying to find that perfect present. NFW. That is awesome! |