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Archive for August, 2007

Mark B., dreading your fourth meal

My worst restaurant experience is everyday. I work at Taco Bell. I hate people, because it seems that nowadays, no one has any common sense. I mean come on, how hard is it to pronounce guacamole? Or to read the giant glowing neon menu in front of you instead of asking me how much a taco is?

READ!!! And they will buy whatever is promoted. I could put up a poster with a picture of toenail clippings topped with a layer of our cool ripe tomatoes and sour cream, for just 99 cents, and people will buy it. One day, when the taco bell dog was popular, we were selling plush toys of the dog and a lady asked me if the chihuahuas were any good.

I told her not in this country. Idiots.

My store is located next to an Arby’s, so naturally people come through the drive thru and order Arby’s melts. You would THINK that the giant bell in front of their faces would draw attention to the fact that they are at the wrong place!! They must be so overwhelmed by their hunger lust that they forget how to read.

Rantasaurus Says: You know, you laugh, but I swear by it. Toenail clippings first thing in the morning does wonders for my constitution. Lots of fiber, if you know what I mean.

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Dear Cube-Neighbor,

Get some Beano! Do you think no one can hear you farting as you walk into your cube?! It’s gross!!

Love,
Grossed-Out

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Isabeau,  a PhD. candidate in Punishment

10) She’s one of those touchy-feeling types who gets her twat out of whack if you don’t greet her properly and enthusiastically each morning like a little puppy. (Note: This is impossible after dragging my ass in after drinking all night)

9) Her lunch is exactly the same, every day: cup of fat-free strawberry yogurt, container of calcium-enriched orange juice and a small bag of Pretzels.

8) If she doesn’t have written, step-by-step instructions, she is completely unable to use her computer, digital camera, fork, etc. Worse, she expects me to write these instructions for her.

7) She wears elastic waist pants.

6) She consistently mispronounces the word “October” as “Ogdober.”

5) The hand lotion she uses smells like a nursing home.

4) Anxiety is her middle name. Her knob is always set to “Freak Out.” Luckily, I keep my phaser set to “Stun.”

3) One glass of wine gets her completely sauced.

2) She has a crew cut, and she is not a lesbian.

1) She should NOT be my boss. I am pursuing a Ph.D. — she is pursuing her head up her butt.

Rantasaurus Says: Now, I don’t exactly see exactly why strawberry yogurt is offensive. My lunch of rotting, smelly carrion? I can see that being offensive, but pretzels?

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Dear Sienna,

Every time you come up to me 10 minutes before our allotted smoke break to ask me if I am going outside, my skin crawls. Of course I am going to smoke, I’m a smoker. Why do you need to make sure of that every stupid break?

Oh, I know! It’s because you want to trap me for those 15 minutes as you rant about your Bipolar Disorder that made your life so hard & your hair so brittle. Poor baby. I sit quietly and listen, pretending to be your BFF, because I am trying to make my work a pleasant place to come everyday, and if I got into conflict with you it might not be so nice.

Wanna know what I really think? I think you are a whiny, annoying, loud mouth that can’t do well in the workforce because you suck at life. I think people talk about you behind your back constantly and I talk with them. We all give each other eyes when you are around because we want you to SHUT UP. If you tell me one more time about how they need to change your meds because of the damn side-effects, I might give you a side-effect that you never expected. Like a black eye.

I am not your therapist. I do not care about your problems. I pretend to listen when I’m really trying to tune you out at every instance, smoke faster, and run run run away. All those times I got up quickly in the middle of one of your stories because I had to pee… It was a lie. I just couldn’t take anymore of it.

Love forever,
Me

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Amy M., free ride no more

The next time your regular ride leaves you hanging and you call me for a ride to work, you are going to be shit out of luck.

I don’t care if you don’t have the sick time or vacation days to cover the absence, or if you are on your final final written warning. We work at the same place and I assume make about the same amount of money. We live in the same neighborhood, so I assume you pay about the same in rent. But somehow, somehow I manage to be a real grownup and budget for transportation.

I would feel differently if your freeloading ass had a car and you wanted to carpool to save the planet. Or, while we’re at it, if you would compensate me at least as much as you do the Central Ohio Transit Authority when you get your ride from them.

The ride to work must be considerably more comfortable and considerably less time consuming in my car than on the bus, but somehow you can’t even muster up a sincere “Thank you.”

So next time, sorry, I don’t think I have the time to swing by and pick you up.

Rantasaurus Says: Next time, give him my number. Funny, a person rarely realizes how fast they can run until I start chasing them.

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Stephanie, not an Oprah fan, I’d take it

Was it really necessary to cry for three days when I shaved my head at age 17? Did you have to be all dramatic when every I expressed a teeny, tiny individual impulse? Well, screw that I guess. I learned how to hide my freak flag. It is a skill that serves me well.

And to this day, you still don’t understand me. You don’t know my hopes and dreams. Heck, you don’t even know my goddamn JOB! You truly suck because of this. And I know I should be all, ‘you did the best you could’ and all ‘Oprah vagina forgiveness’ about it. But, no. I still think it sucks when you can’t get your self past the tattoos to see the glory of me. Dumbass.

But lets try a tiny step here. I am NOT a physicians assistant. I am a PSYCHIATRIC NURSE PRACTITIONER.

Big difference between the two. Just like us.

I still love you though. Your grand-kids love you more. See you next week.

Rantasaurus Says: Steph, I get you. I get you. When Mr. Perfect Dumb Billasaurus was off stomping skulls and making Mamasaurus proud, I was reading in the corner, learning Milton, Thoreau. Who do you think got the Caveasaurus when Mama passed away?

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Joe Bauer, spelling “eyeronic”

I’m sick and tyred of posts on the intirnet filld with mispellings!

Can’t you lasy people get it right? Do you realize how much of my presious time I lose stumbling over your mronic misques? How did any of you ever make it through sofomore english!

The poor educations and ignorance of our pupulation is so expozed with these embarasssing entries!

Gaaad…take an adult english class or somethign WILL YA?

No wonder people in other cuntries think Americans are dumm!

I am ashamd to even have to corespond with you speling retards! GET A SPELING LIFE !!!

I’m dislexic and I STILL spel corectly…WHAY CAN’T YOU???

Rantasaurus Says: Intristing. Berry, berry intristing.

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