Saturday, May 24, 2014

Washington D.C

My cousin talks loud and fast. That is the only way he knows how to talk. The way he speaks greatly resembles Bam Margera's uncle Don Vito. It all makes sense to him in his head and he tries to tell you but gets to excited and the words all come out at the same time in a huge pile of unrecognizable words. 

That is what woke me up at 9:00 this morning. Why? Because he just got back from his eighth grade class trip to Washington D.C. I woke up to the words "Do you know what a selfie is?" he took 874 selfies in Washington D.C. When I went to washington D.C I got to take 2 disposable cameras. I literally had to plan out the perfect 48 pictures or else I was screwed out on memories. So While I was planning out the perfect pictures of what may or may not be blood from President Lincolns head Michael took 48 pictures of a black Tahoe because there were FBI personnel near it and he was fairly confident Barack Obama was inside of it. He also took a picture of a black squirrel because he thought his sister would like it (she watches a lot of B.E.T).

He also was allotted a hefty budget. I only know this because he came into my room this morning wearing all of the swag he bought. He was also eating a giant bag of M&M's and a beef stick. 


When I went to D.C I spent all my money on food and any tangible item that had the letters "D.C" on it. Michael on the other hand spent his money on things he would be confident would break and he would hate in 4-5 days. also a life size rebel flag for some unknown reason. He wears it as a cape. A giant hillbilly racist cape. I can confidently tell you all that probably 90% of the money he went there with went into a claw machine. He got a visor with eyes and furry balls that hang off the ears. That is currently wearing over a monster energy flat bill hat. He said he for sure spent fifteen dollars in one sitting at a claw machine trying to win something stupid that costs ten cents to make I'm sure. After he gave up he said "A little midget girl put a dollar in and won it right away and that just made me mad"

This has been all he talked about for the past 16 hours. Also the beef stick is still sitting on my white comforter because he scared the shit out of himself with those stupid inside out popper toys. Which he bought three of in D.C.  
 

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

My job

I've hated any kind of work for as long as I can remember. I am not being dramatic I'm serious. I consciously chose an ass whooping rather than pick up all my toys when I was two and a half. So my mom dished out an ass smack and in return she picked up my toys while I got to sit by and watch.

And it was in that moment that I realized how much I actually hate doing stuff. Any kind of stuff. But that's okay because I don't have to. If I want to sit in my room and watch netflix until my mattress has my body imprinted into it then I'll do it. But there is a problem

I have a job. Not just any job. A waitressing job. I am one of the most bitter unloving people I have ever come across yet I chose a job where I deal with the worst kind of people for 30 hours a week.

In the absence of a "Please seat yourself" sign DO NOT seat yourself. This is not an arbys, you may not just choose whatever seat that best accentuates your chain wallet. That's my job. That's what I get paid 3.95 an hour for.

I chose a job where I constantly have to repeat myself 600 times a day. "Do you have mai-tai's?" Well, lady, according to the drink you have already looked at, NO. Beer and Wine only, I say out loud to her. As her friend next to her says she'll have a strawberry margarita. Nope, no you will not. Because as I have clearly stated two and a half seconds ago BEER AND WINE ONLY.

NO YOU HYPERACTIVE SIX YEAR OLD WE DO NOT HAVE DUCK SAUCE QUIT YELLIN ABOUT HOW YOUR GOING TO EAT BROCCOLI AND DUCK SAUCE.

NO WE DO NOT HAVE FREE TABLE BREAD GO TO LONGHORN. OR PUT A LOAF OF BREAD IN YOUR PURSE FOR YOUR KID WHO KEEPS TRYING TO ORDER PIZZA AT A HIBACHI GRILL.

My favorite so far, and I still have found a way to hate it. Is netflix a job because I watch so much House M.D on netflix that I think I am capable of achieving a medical degree without any proper training. It's probably not true but I feel like a walking in person version of web MD.

So who knows I'll probably be in diagnostic medicine soon.