Tuesday, September 30, 2008


I hate my job. I know, I know. What the hell else is new? But we've sunk to even lower depths of bullshit than ever before.

It all started a few days ago. One of the other cashiers, Jenni, cam back from break. She was crying. It seems that she had run to the restroom before heading back to her register and one of the co-managers, Tom, wasn't too keen on this. He tore her a new one over it. Here's the problem: None, and I do mean none, of the head cashiers had a problem with her doing this. It was Tom who threw a massive shit fit over it. As she put it: "If it was such a problem, why wasn't I told a long time ago?"

But it gets better. We're no longer allowed to talk to any of our co-workers. Well, certain cashiers, it seems. If you kiss the right ass, you can talk for hours and not get into trouble. If you don't, you'll get yelled at. It's favoritism, plain and simple and it's pissing me and a shitload of other people off severely. I'm to the point where I'm ready to turn in some of the heads and their friends for chit-chatting excessively. And to hell with getting in trouble. I just don't care anymore.

I need a laptop. Like now. Then I could cobble a manuscript together, sell the fucker and get the hell outta Dodge. If I don't, I'll probably be dead of a stroke with 3 years.

--Weasel, "I just love my job. Really I do."

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Life in the State of Stupidity

It seems the mayor of our fair city wants to do away with the goth teenagers who are "hanging out" at the city parks in the evenings. So now groups of 15 or more teens must have a permit to use the park and if they're under 18 they need a chaperone. Seems the neighbors have been freaking out about them since they (GASP!) dress in black and (HORRORS!) use foul language and some of them (DEAR HEAVENS!) smoke.

Call me crazy, but don't we have more important things to worry about? Unless they're pissing on my front lawn, I don't give a damn what they do. Why the hell does city hall have to legislate this?

--Weasel, "My fucking tax dollars at work here."

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

And Today in "Not Giving a Shit"....

On Sunday, Prime had to go in for a little bit of overtime. Me, I had to work. So Prime dropped by my store to say 'hi'.

So much for that idea. One of the heads, Mary said I couldn't ring up his order since I "knew" him. Prime was pissed (and that is putting ti very mildly) and so was I. But it gets better.

The next day I'm working on an express lane and someone found a prescription left in a cart. They brought it up to me, so I called a head. Mary, the same moron from the day before came up and said that I was supposed to hold on to it. About three seconds later, the customer who left it behind came back in and claimed it. But I was extremely pissed. Here's why:

Prescriptions are supposed to be taken back to the pharmacy immediately because they can be stolen. And guess who would have gotten in trouble if that prescription had been stolen? None other than yours truly. I have half a mind to turn her in to management for that bit of stupidity, but I doubt it would do any damned good.

Whoever said that the cream rises to the top forgot that crap floats, too. June cannot come soon enough.

--Weasel, "So... tired.... of the bullshit!"

Wake Me Up When September Ends

Ned Yost has been fired.
So this is what it feels like to be kicked in the gut. It's not a great feeling, I tell you.

--Weasel, now wondering if October will actually happen for the Brew Crew

Friday, September 12, 2008

Holy. Crap.

So for the helluva it, I decided to ask for a Mew over GTS last night. I sent out a male Yanma holding a Custap berry and asked for a Mew at level 10 or higher. After 15 minutes, I checked my progress. Nothing. I waited another 10 minutes and tried again.

A Pokéball falling from the sky greeted me. I had just received a Japanese Mew.

I checked its summary and the ID number caught me by surprise: 50716. The number looked familiar. But since Prime was on the PC, I couldn't check on it. So I did it today.

Looks like I got me a Hadou Mew. I got an event Pokémon.

This is gonna be one spoiled rotten Mew.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

And Somehow, I Just Can't Care Anymore...

I saw Susie the other day. She's doing well, has another job and said flat out that yes it was a bullshit reason that was used to fire her. I'm just glad she could get another job, considering how fucked up the economy is right now. And I'm glad she's in a better position.

There are days I really hate my job. Monday was one of them.

It seems management doesn't want any of the cashiers to place perishable items into any of the soda coolers up front. Basically, we now have to call the departments and pray to Primus that somebody comes up to get their shit.

Yeah, that doesn't often happen. I've lost count of how many times Frozen Foods has never shown up to get their crap.

Why do I have the feeling I'm going to be defecting out a lot more shit? Oh well. Whatever. I can't even give a shit anymore.

--Weasel, "Can we fast-forward to next June? Please?!"

Thursday, September 04, 2008

That Was Fast...

The vid's been yanked. I hate to break it to them, but it's too damn late. The info is already out on the net. Let the speculation begin!

Major Spoiler!

If you don't want to know, do not click.

All I can say is: Waiting until next June is going to be pure torture.