Makin' Shit Up . com

From http://www.formspring.me/wtfspaz:

What would you be doing if you weren’t makin’ shit up (.com)?
An excellent and yet still terrible question, because you’re going to be subjected to the unadulterated truth. In no particular order, my time is divided among these categories:

Sleeping.

If I could sleep for 16 hours a day and be awake for 8, that would suit me just fine.

Eating.

I really love eating. Which sort of stands in the way of my diet plan. That’s probably why I haven’t lost any more weight since I stalled out after losing 30lbs last year.

Makin’ Shit Up.

Somebody’s got to make with the funny around here. Or try to. Whatever. If you’re not amused, go check out damnitbohler.com.

Costuming.

Yeah, I hang out with weirdos who dress up like Storm Troopers and Superheroes. There is something ultimately freeing about not giving a fuck about what normal people think of you. My friends are awesome, and if you think we’re childish/stupid/gay, don’t forget the costume babes:

Working.

Hey, as soon as I figure out a way to support myself by being funny on the interwebs, I’ll quit my job. So.. never.

Driving.

The world can be neatly divided into two groups of people: people who think Miatas are girly/gay, and people who have driven one. I’ll be happy to demonstrate, bring clean underwear. Grouped in here would be washing my car and tinkering with my car. I turn my own wrenches, don-cha-know?

Touchin’ it.

Somebody’s got to. What, you didn’t expect that kind of sad and brutal honesty? What the fuck kind of website did you think you were reading?

Arguing on the Internet.
s
The internet has enabled millions of idiots to voice their opinions semi-anonymously. It would not be fair to simply accept their drivel without ridiculing them. In the end, however, everybody is retarded.

I also enjoy playing video games and pooping.

Nashville Roller Girl Referee “Jessticular Fortitude” had this on a shirt. And it was the embodiment of win.

Question: If you had the chance to argue for one fandom to be uninvented…which would it be and what would be your argument against it?

1) vampires don’t sparkle in sunlight, they die.
2) a 100+ year old person dating a girl in high school is not romance, it’s pedophilia.
3) Werewolves turn into wolves on the full moon, not whenever they’re angry/about to fight. (before you start crying that ‘they’re not werewolves, they’re shapeshifters, see #4)
4) If I were a shapeshifter, I wouldn’t turn into a wolf to fight vampires, I’d turn into ED209.

Any questions?

Now go do something mean to someone.

But seriously, if any of you fuck with my car, I’ll tear your eyes out.

I’m not saying I’m proud of it, but I’ve worked more than my fair share of retail/service industry-type jobs. And I’ve had enough of you fucking people. So here is some shit you oughta know when you go shopping. I would think its common goddamn sense, but apparently its not. So in no particular order:

If the light is off, the register is fucking closed!
Yeah, there’s still some sorry sap standing there ringing up some other asshole’s order. But they’ve turned the light out, that means they’re late to go on their break, or to lunch, or home, or to do something more important than get you out the door 3 seconds faster. Yes, its true that if you jump in that line and say nothing, they’re probably just going to ring you up anyway, but that’s only because they’re not allowed to tell you to go fuck yourself to your face. But seriously, go fuck yourself.

Give the stuff you don’t want to buy to the cashier.
They have a system for dealing with it: Its called throwing it in a box under the register, and its not hard. It’s a lot easier, in fact, than following your sorry ass around the store picking up shit you dropped all over because you changed your mind. And if I catch you leaving frozen food or milk out on some random shelf, I can’t understand why its not legal for me to shove it up your ass.

Don’t take stuff out of the package.
Listen you worthless piece of shit, there’s a whole display of the material those curtains are made out of hanging RIGHT FUCKING THERE so you don’t have to open up the package to grope the fucking product. You know god-damn good and well that nothing short of a miracle will get those curtains back in that fucking package looking the way it did before you got your greasy hands on them. Oh and the fucking icing on the cake is when you grub it all up, throw it on the floor, then go buy an unmolested package! You MUST be aware that the store is NEVER going to be able to sell that opened package, right? Listen, you may as well wipe your ass with it and stuff it in a garbage can. What you’re doing is like stealing, but worse, because NOBODY gets anything. Just fucking stop it.

Yes, they’re closed.
If the store has some sort of food service area, and you go to the food service area, and most of the lights are off, and the person behind the counter is disassembling and cleaning equipment instead of preparing food, guess what, THEY’RE FUCKING CLOSED. Use your god-damned brain for 1 second and stop pestering the help.

We’re not experts.
Don’t expect us to know more about any given product than if we do or do not sell it here. Do you know how many fucking products we carry? In what fucking reality do you expect every person in the store to be an expert on every fucking product? Don’t be surprised if I can’t tell you if that cup is HBA free, I don’t even know or care what HBAs are! I do hope you go home and choke on one, though! And I can’t really tell you which mousetrap works best because I don’t live in a rodent-infested shack like you do. You have to understand that I can’t tell you anything about any given product that’s not clearly written on the label/package. If you’re illiterate, I will read it for you. Don’t expect me to make judgments for you or do your research for you.

CONTROL YOUR FUCKING CHILD.
Listen you hippie bitch, you might think that it’s ok to let little Timmy scream at the top of his lungs for the entire duration of your shopping journey, but I assure you the rest of the world does not. We’re trying to run a fucking business here, and you’re scaring away our customers. Furthermore, you’re a complete failure at parenting and someone should beat the shit out of you. If you can’t talk Timmy into shutting the fuck up, take him out of our god-damned store. I don’t care if you beat him or try to reason with him, just get him the fuck out until he shuts the fuck up.

I don’t care about your problem.
They pay me to pretend I care. They don’t pay me enough. Don’t be surprised by my half-hearted attempt to solve your problem. Go ahead, take your business elsewhere! Why the fuck should I care? If you weren’t here I’d have less work to do.

Just remember. Bad Customer Service starts with Bad Customer. And if it were legal to kill you I probably would.

update:

thanks to DWRD you now can and therefore must “digg” this post: http://digg.com/comedy/Guide_to_Shopping_for_Douchebags

Question: Why do women say they want a “nice guy” but then won’t have anything to do with someone who really is a nice guy. Instead, they go for the guys that treat them like dirt. And then they complain about it!

Women are liars and/or stupid. Usually both. The truth is, there is no challenge in a nice guy. If he’s already everything you want, how are you going to force him to change to make you happy? The other thing? Guys that women find attractive generally KNOW that women find them attractive. They don’t NEED to be nice, and they get a perverse pleasure out of treating girls like shit and still getting to have sex with them. Besides, they’re always going to have their too fat/too skinny/too geeky/too homely/too boring NICE GUY friend to cry to about what a dick their boyfriend is. And because he’s such a nice guy, he’ll console her, and listen to her cry, all the while wondering a) what he has done wrong in his life to deserve this torment b) why she can’t see that I’m everything she’s ever said she wanted, minus washboard abs c) how do I continue to have the inner strength not to choke her to death right now? And just when hes wondering if he should just commit suicide instead, she’ll tell him how much she cherishes his friendship, and that he’s like a brother to me!

Here’s a tip, ladies. Next time you have a guy friend and you’re about to tell him that you think of him like a brother, instead cut off his dick and shoot him in the face. It would be more humane. Then run back to your douchebag frat-boy boyfriend. You deserve him.

That said, guys, you share some blame in this. Step one: don’t befriend single girls. You’re wasting time. If you meet a girl and you’re interested, play hard. It may make sense in your feeble brain to “get to know her” and “get a feel for how she feels about you” but she’s decided within the first 3 seconds of knowing you if you’ll ever get to see her naked, and nothing is ever going to change her mind. However, if you waste a bunch of time “getting to know her” she may decide that “you’re really nice” and if she were to date or screw you, it would get in the way of using you as a shoulder to cry on when her douchebag frat-boy boyfriend stands her up on her birthday to go drinking with his frat-boy buddies. Don’t fall into the trap. Find out right away if she’s interested. If she’s dumped you into the friendzone, you should probably never talk to her again, but at least get your head straight around the idea that you’re never going to see her naked, unless you’re helping her into her wedding dress when she marries her douchebag frat-boy boyfriend and asks you to be the matron of honor. Hope you look good in a pink tuxedo, Nancy. In other advice I should be following myself but aren’t, hit the gym, fatass. If you looked good with your shirt off maybe she wouldn’t dump you on the friend pile in 0.7 seconds. Its either that or resign yourself to a life of celibacy until the unthinkable happens and you meet that one girl who likes you for you (and is probably blind.) Its that or pay for sex, pal. Ain’t life grand?

And guys… friggin’ know when you’ve lost (like I said before, it was in those first 3 seconds.) You’re pretty much ruining it for the rest of us when you go full-on stalker on a girl. Sure, a little light e-stalking on the facebook might give you an up on does and don’t (don’t ask her if she wants to go to the Sizzler if her facebook says shes a vegetarian) but we all know its easy to go overboard with the power of the interwebs. Keep coming on strong and she’s going to think that most guys are weirdo/perverts and she needs to “be more careful.” Like I said, ruining it for everyone. Besides, if you’re one of those stalker dudes, you should probably just die in a fire anyway.

So in summary:

Girls: don’t be bitches. You’re smart enough to know when a guy likes you. If a guy likes you, don’t try to be his friend. Don’t ever agree to “do stuff” with him unless there are going to be at least 8 other people there. Do NOT, EVER, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE, complain about other guys to him. For we are feeble of mind and easily confused, and in most cases we can see what we want to see, if it exists or not. In summary, you’re giving guys THE WRONG IDEA. You have the power to do right. Don’t be a selfish bitch.

Guys: She doesn’t like you. Shes not ever going to like you. Stop dwelling on what a hypocrite she is. Of course shes a fucking hypocrite. It doesn’t matter. Move on. Every second you spend worrying about this girl whose keeping you as her “big brother” is a second you’re wasting NOT meeting the girl with a slave Leia bikini who wants to show you the cool things you can do with a black light and body paint. Don’t be stupid.

In closing:

I strongly suspect this will be a recurring theme in my blog.

So anyway, I was driving though my neighborhood in my convertible. As I turned a corner, I glanced down at the speedometer and verified that I was driving 30mph, the posted speed limit. Just then, I heard a pedestrian shout something at me. Since I was not going very fast, and have excellent brakes, I stopped very quickly.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“YOU NEED TO SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!”

At this point I notice that the person talking to me is a woman walking with a friend, a young girl (maybe 8-10yrs old) and pushing a stroller.

“Ma’am, I was driving 30 mph, the posted speed limit on this street.”

“YOU NEED TO SLOW THE FuCK DOWN!!”

“Do you have a radar gun? Can I see it? Because I have a speedometer, and it says I was going the speed limit.”

“THERE ARE KIDS IN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD! YOU NEED TO SLOW DOWN!”

“Are the kids playing in the street?”

“No, we don’t let them play in the street!”

“Then its ok for me to drive my car on the street at the posted speed limit?”

“I’M GOING TO REPORT YOU!!”

“TO WHO?!”

“TO THE POLICE!”

“FOR WHAT??!”

“BECAUSE YOU NEED TO SLOW DOWN!”

“Thank you, have a nice day!”

In retrospect, I should have asked her if, when she insisted I needed to slow down, she meant that she thought I was lying about driving the posted speed limit, or if she thought that I was driving the speed limit but I should drive even slower than that because she feels that I’m a danger to her kids.  But I’ll give you a hint:  if I was able to stop from the speed I was going and still be within range of your shouting, I would have been able to stop just as fast to avoid your kids in the street.

There are a few of these signs in my neighborhood. If you really loved your kids, you’d make sure they didn’t play in the street, bitch.   Oh and its really fucking tacky to drop the F-bomb in front of your kids.

If you go to the “about” page (the link that says “SPAZ” up top there) you can ask me questions, even anonymously. I’ll most likely answer them. Ideally hilarity will ensue. Get crackin, kids.

update: You can read the answers on the “SPAZ” page as well. If I get questions that are good enough (read: not from JediAgent) I will elaborate and make a new blog post as the answer.

Or just click here, you lazy bastards.