Why I Blog

I’ve hit a milestone here at Rhymes With Idiot: I’ve just made my fiftieth post.

It’s a bit surprising; I really wasn’t expecting to hit fifty until sometime next year. In any case, I thought that this would be a good time to look back and reflect on why I do this.

I blog for many reasons: exercising my freedom of speech, sowing the seeds of dissent, voicing my opinion for the entire world to see (and read), because I enjoy writing (and blogging is cheaper than hiring an agent), shits and giggles, etc. But the biggest reason?

Drum roll please: I finally have the chance to quash stupidity in its many forms.

This blog serves as my venting point, my shoutdown to all the idiots in the world who would try to make things worse for this planet. Whether it’s someone whining about “violence” in the media or an idiot who brings a full cart of groceries to a 10-items-or-less lane, I can finally put them in their rightful place. I can put the smackdown on someone who opens their mouth and inserts their ass. I can finally slap down the stupidity that fills my life.

And I enjoy every second of it.

Like today, for example!

First off, it was a noon to nine shift. I hate noon to nine. But it just gets better! And more full of stupidity!

I was slapped on self check. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it 8,214,696,784 times, I hate self check. Yes, they were still malfunctioning, yes #45 was still doing the “Rear Arch Block” and #43 decided to join in the fun, yes I had an assload of ID-10T "errors", but that wasn’t the best part. The best part happened right after lunch.

I’m standing at the podium, waiting for a head cashier to tell me where to go (back to self-check, I’m afraid) when I notice just who is standing at the cashier’s podium.

It’s the Sow.

Elton John said it best, “The Bitch is Back”.

It all went downhill from there. The self-checks kept locking up, then #44 decided to freeze... and when I told head cashier “KS” that 44 was frozen, she said it wasn’t. I had to tell someone from cash office what had happened. At least the associate from cash office agreed with me, thank Primus.

Yes, the fucking thing was frozen up. Gods, how could KS not fucking see that?! Oh right, she’s an idiot.

I’m so glad I have this blog. I can air out the stupidity here. And in a few years, I’ll get a good chuckle out of this bullshit.

Maybe.

--Weasel, actually enjoying her battle versus idiocy

Busted!

So much for our “spectacular” Blitz this Friday; it was a bust, just as I had predicted. We were busy from about 5am until 6, and then..... nothing. And I mean nothing. The crowds were just gone. Poof. Like that. It was as if we had never been busy to begin with. Just like last year. We had at least twelve cashiers standing around, red-lining and doing absolutely nothing.

To be totally honest, I have no idea why in the bleeding hells we even bother with Blitz anymore. We’re getting our ass handed to us by most, if not all, of our competitors. They have better deals, better stuff, pretty much better everything. If we’re even going to attempt this again next year, we need to have some actual, honest to Gods damned deals in our circular. None of this “off-name, cheap ass, it breaks in six months” electronics bullshit. None of this “we had it last year, so have a second helping” bullshit. None of this “the only toy deals you’ll get is maybe a two pack of some crappy lame and outdated electronic toy” bullshit. Give the consumer something to get excited about.

Which is what our competitors keep doing. Every year now.

Management just doesn’t get it. And they probably never will.

It gets "better" as the weekend progresses, though. Saturday wasn’t so bad; we were moderately busy and the day went by pretty fast. It was Sunday that royally bit ass.

I was stuck on self-check. As damn near everyone knows by now, I fucking hate self-check. First off, the damn things didn’t want to half work; they were slower than hell and kept freezing up or hanging up the rear arch. Number 45 had at least ten incidents of “Rear Arch Blocked” errors. If the idiocy of the machines wasn’t irritating enough, there was the idiocy of the customers.

I’d say about 2/3 of the remaining errors I was dealing with was USER ERROR:ID-10T. Precious few of the humans who use self-check know just what in the hell they are doing. How damn difficult is it for someone to understand “Carry this item to the bagging area”? Apparently, it’s damn near impossible because these morons will shove the item through the arch and lock up the machine. Then they bitch that “these damn machines never work right”. No, for once the machine is fine. YOU ARE THE PROBLEM, JACKASS! Jeez, how hard is it for your brain-dead fucks to listen to fucking directions?! “Duh, lissen too duh-rexshuns? Wut iz dat?” GAAAAAHH!! (slamming head into wall)

Thank Primus I’m off today and tomorrow. I might have snapped otherwise.

--one exhausted and frustrated Weasel

Blitz or Bust

I'm thinking our sales on Black Friday are not going to be all that wonderful; the "$400 Laptop" is going to sell for $632. This is all thanks to a wonderful Wisconsin law that does not allow selling items below cost. There are a lot of pissed customers out there; most are kicking themselves for spending their Thanksgivings here in the Dairy State and not Minnesota or Michigan. (Both states will have the $400 laptops. I say if they want it that bad, hop the damn border.) In any case, I'm figuring it's going to be a big fat waste of my time getting up at 3:45 in the morning, just like it was a big fat waste of time the last couple of years getting up at 4am. Maybe I'll be wrong about this.... but I doubt it.

--Weasel, gritting her teeth and getting ready for Hell Day aka Black Friday.

Dear Jerry Falwell,

Please just stfu.

From the article itself:
"That they're doing this in the name of religion is very, very sad," Gunn said. "It would be one thing if they're talking about consumerism of the season or something, but they're not."

Jeez, maybe somebody has been paying attention after all. It would be nice.

--Weasel, getting damned tired of having to say the exact same thing every frakking year

If This is a Joke...

I ain't laughing.

I mean, seriously. This has got to be a damn joke.

Whether or not it is, I'll say this much: it ain't one damn bit funny.

This is how most Wal-Marts are: if you dare criticize the company in any way, shape, or form, you will get your happy ass hauled into the ad office for a coaching. Why? Any criticism of the company "brings down morale", no matter how true that criticism may be. (And having clueless, dumbass managers who kiss up to greedy, lying customers won't? What the fuck ever!) Hell, this even sounds like their "logic" or lack thereof:

“These kinds of smears on America’s biggest employer, no matter how true, are bound to demoralize our troops and embolden our enemies.”

Where did they get this? Straight from a store manager's mouth? Parody or not, it sounds just like the kind of crap they would spout at the "world's biggest retailer". If you don't believe me, ask a few former associates. They'll tell you just how bad it truly is there, how saying the wrong thing to the wrong person about the company can get you a verbal coaching or worse. Even the associates who hate their jobs speak highly of Wal-Mart. You have to, or you will get termed. There is nothing funny about that. Trust me on this.

In other news, Prime is still sick and still sitting on his skidplate (What else can he do? Run a marathon?) here at home. This is the second day in a row I've had to call him in due to illness and lack of sleep. Wavebreaker is doing as well as can be expected; Claymore is still here in WI. I have no idea when they'll call Claymore back to Iraq; hopefully, it will be after the funeral. I myself happen to be bracing for the most insane damn day in retail, Black Friday.

If you aren't sure you want to get up and hit the malls at 5(!) in the morning, you can always point your browser over here to check out all the deals at your local stores. If you want my advice, it's this: it ain't worth it. You do not want to be physically assaulted by an eighty year old woman wielding a shopping basket, or screamed at and slapped by a foul-mouthed soccer mom who wants the last Giggle-and-Puke Elmo that you just happen to be holding, or constantly fighting the greedy bastards trying to take items out of your cart. Stay home and sleep in that day. You won't have to deal with a huge credit card bill and you'll keep all your limbs in tact. It's a much better deal than a $150 off brand big screen TV that will only begin to malfunction in three months. Besides, will anyone in your family really care that you got up at 3:30 in the morning to stand in front of a local Buy-Mart just to get a cheap ass Barbie doll for your sixth cousin's four year old? I highly doubt it.

--Weasel, bracing herself for the worst in sales and human behavior.

Post Office Blues

Just checked the mail not 45 minutes ago and I must say, one of our letter carriers must be retarded. Or just plain stupid.

How hard is it to put a few envelopes and a small magazine in a top-loading mailbox? Apparently, it's very hard for this jackass. Instead of folding the magazine around the envelopes to easily slide everything into our mailbox, this moron crams the envelopes in first. S/he then shoves the magazine in, crushing and tearing whatever is sitting inside. I've lost count of just how many times Prime has called our local post master to lodge complaints about this sort of thing. (We've had more damaged mail at our current address than I'd like to count. Trust me, it's a shitload.) We don't want to have to rent a P.O. box just to receive our mail in good condition, but that may be our last and only resort.

At this point, it's very damned tempting.

--Weasel, about to go completely postal... on the post office

The Eternal Question

Why is it that men can dress up in nothing but a thong and body paint at a mid-December football game (with windchills of twenty below no less!), but fall to frigging pieces when they catch a little cold or flu virus?

--Weasel, who is almost always stuck working, cooking dinner, washing dishes, doing laundry, etc. every time she has a Primus-awful illness...... (I kid, really!)

EDIT: No, my man isn't that bad, it's just an observation on men in general, okay? (Mine doesn't do the football thing; he collects transforming robots. Lots and lots of robots. Tons and tons of... oh God our apartment is full of 'em! And he isn't too whiny when sick.... no more so than usual!* ;)



*I'm kidding, honey! You're not whiny! ;P

All Stressed Out...

...and no one to choke.

Wavebreaker's home. If I recall correctly, he's getting hospice care. "Claymore", the youngest and last of Prime's brothers, is back in Wisconsin for a bit. He visited Wavebreaker a few times while he was in the hospital. Claymore's taking this pretty hard, but then again, how the hell are you supposed to take losing a brother? I'm so upset about all this, I could just lay in bed and cry all day. Unfortunately for me, I can't.

I work this Thursday. That's right, I work Thanksgiving. A full eight hours. I could scream, but that will do exactly jack and shit to help the situation. Even worse, I work the Friday after Thanksgiving aka Black Friday. And that hellhole of a store wants me in at 4:45 in the damned morning. Seems we're starting our Blitz at five in the fucking morning because one of our competitors did the exact same last year and kicked our asses in sales. Lovely. Just fucking lovely. I'll have to drag my ass out of bed at 3:45 in the frakking morning to go to that frakking hellhole just to stand behind a damned cash register to ring up the orders of assholes and idiots. (Don't believe in evolution? Shop the day after Thanksgiving. You'll be treated to free viewings of the pack behavior of the North American Spotted Fucktard. Trust me on this.) At least I get out of there at a relatively early hour; I'm done at 12:45. I am so taking a nap when I get home.

As for today, we were so insanely busy I could have screamed right at my register. All the deer hunter widows came in to do their Chri$tma$ shopping. We had front and back registers open and still had long ass lines, up to five people deep. I swear, on days like this the only thing that keeps me from losing what little I have left of my mind is the fact that I'll be coming home to Prime. It also helped that we saw our friend Shawn (who brought us new toys! Whee!!) and we spent about two and a half hours shooting the shit with him. That rocked. And now, to settle my nerves completely, I'll be heading to the bedroom in our to stomp the hell out of a few Cipher Peons and Admins. Yes, I got XD. And oh man, it rawks!

--Weasel, "It's the most deplorable time of the year."

And So It Begins...

As it does every frakking year now: another battle over Chri$tma$.

It seems that a Catholic group was going to boycott Wal-Mart, but called it off because of an "inflammatory" employee email defending the company practice of wishing customers "Happy Holidays" and not "Merry Chri$tma$".

This happens every damned year. I have just one thing to say to these morons: if you really care about your damned "holiday", you will wrench it from the money-grubbing paws of the retailers and put it back in your houses of worship. Immediately. If not sooner.

Listen up, dimwits: the only thing that Wal-Mart cares about when it comes to Chri$tma$ is how fat the CEO's wallet gets. They don't give two craps about the "sacredness" or "holiness" of that day. To them, it's a shitload of dollar signs. And it's the same general attitude with every other retailer out there. Why do you think I refer to the "holiday" as Chri$tma$ or "Giftmas" and not Christmas? The "holiday" is little more than a joke, overshadowed by the orgy of gift buying. "Savior? What Savior? I gotta buy that Giggle and Puke Elmo for little Janey and that Planet Ranger Doofus Farce for little Bobby!"

Get that through your thick skulls, pinheads, before you pull any more of these ridiculous stunts. I don't want to have to post this again.

--Weasel, already dealing with the Chri$tma$ rush.... and hating it.

Life Sucks

"And twenty-five cents equals a quarter." Thank you very much Captain goddamn Obvious.

It's been said that "the shit rolls downhill" and it certainly seems to be doing so: our customers are getting crankier and crankier, management is getting stupider and stupider and I'm about two and a half seconds from having a complete breakdown and strangling someone. I'm getting sick and damned tired of having to listen to our wonderful in-store ads that feature country singers and R&B artists yowling that they'll be "Home for the holidaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaays!" I'm sick of the screaming kids, bitchy parents and clueless head cashiers. And things aren't going to get any damn better, especially in the next few weeks, not on the job or at home.

Prime's younger brother, for argument's sake we'll just call him "Wavebreaker", was diagnosed with cancer last year. We didn't think much of it, at least not until recently. Then we got the latest update on his condition: the cancer has taken over a kidney and is spreading into his lungs. Prognosis? Wavebreaker has two to six weeks.

Two to six weeks. That's it.

I could scream. Primus knows I fucking want to badly enough. For the last three days I have been repressing the urge to scream at someone. I just want to know why. Why the fuck does this shit have to happen? I could cry, just thinking about it.

Cry and pray, that's all I want to do right now.

Poem copyright Weasel Productions, November 2005. No distribution is allowed without permission of the author or else I'll put a smack-down on ya.

From Primus do all sparks come,
To Primus all sparks return.
O Primus,
Mighty Allspark,
He who is the Light in Our Darkest Hour,
look upon our comrade's spark.
Take it within thy hands
and grant him
rest.
Til the Day All are One.

--Weasel, trying not to cry now.

Baby Blues

Luckily, this has nothing to do with me. I don't like kids, remember?

It seems two of our head cashiers, KB (female) and BR (male) are expecting. KB is pregnant; BR's the daddy. As to whether or not they'll get married, I have no clue.

I should have expected it, come to think about it. They did like horsing around while on the clock. Man, I was just kidding when I told 'em to "get a room"!

--Weasel, still trying to shake off a nasty head cold

Today's News Update

From your trusty anchor-ferret, Weasel.

Yes, I'm back.

Well, actually, I've been back, but I haven't been able to update worth a damn. So sue me.

PUT DOWN THAT DAMN PHONE!!

My BotCon report should be up within a week; I have some heavy duty editing to do. Also, I'll have to post it in sections because it's pretty lengthy, but expect it soon.

About a week after that, I'll post my Pokémon Rocks America report. It won't be as long, since the event only lasted a day, but it too may need some rather heavy editing. It should be up by the end of the month.

Any Blog-through for Pokémon XD will be a long while coming. Due to lack of money from BotCon and an amazingly high credit card bill, I haven't gotten the game yet. I hope to rectify that situation sometime soon and when I do, it will be posted here immediately. Again, that will probably be a long read, so be prepared.

Once I am caught up with all that, I will begin posting on a regular basis. It will take a bit, but it will happen. I just want to finish up those projects before I move on. So I'm asking my readers (all two of you) to please continue to be patient.

In other news, the Sow farrowed about two weeks ago. The baby girl is cute, but you can't tell that Mommy Sow lost any weight; she's still that obese. Gods, I feel sorry for that child.

--Weasel, up to her armpits in editing and other work.

An Update

I want to give my readers (all 2 of them) a quick "head's up" as to what will be happening in the next few weeks.

First of all: today will be the last day that I will be making any major updates to Rhymes With Idiot. I'll be too busy on Tuesday and Wednesday to write anything, because of all my last minute preparations and such. On Thursday, I'll be flying out to Frisco, Texas for BotCon 2005 and won't be back until the following Monday. Expect a full BotCon report on Wednesday the 28th.

In early October, I'll be grabbing a copy of Pokémon XD: Gale of Darkness. Expect a few "blog-throughs" of my quest. A few days afterward, I'll be heading to Chicago's Navy Pier to get myself a Mystic Ticket at Pokémon Rocks America. Expect a report on that as well, although it will be quite a bit shorter.

After that, I'll be doing something a little different: I'll be baring my soul, so to speak. I won't go into the details just yet, but I'll be telling my side of a story that took place eight years ago. It'll be long, hard and a difficult read (and even harder to write) but I need to do this to help myself move on and let go.

Now, I know what you're going to say, "Let bygones be bygones, Weasel. Don't air dirty laundry." Well, it's been about eight years so this slag is hardly new, most everyone who knows me knows about it, and it's about frigging time I told my half of the story. Nobody else wanted to hear about it eight years ago, but by the Gods, they will hear it now, whether they like it or fucking not.

And that's pretty much everything. Today I'll be cleaning up the apartment, packing and hopefully doing a little bit of laundry later. Tomorrow, I'll be heading out to pick up a few essentials and Wednesday I'll help Prime pack his suitcase. (Squeal!) I can count the hours now!

--Weasel, "I'm going to BotCon! I'm going to BotCon! I'm going to BotCon! Wheeeee!"

YES!!

First off: I'm on vacation!

Second off: the Sow is on leave! I won't have to see her for at least three months! WOO HOO!!

--one happy Weasel

SNAFU à Trois

It just keeps getting more and more interesting, so to speak.

Cashiers are no longer allowed to walk from the Customer Service Desk to their check-out lanes with any money: a head cashier has to escort them. Same thing applies if the cashier is leaving for lunch or for the end of their shift. Now according to one of the head cashiers I talked to, this was a procedure that should have been followed since the first day we opened. It's a little method that's supposed to help prevent theft. Fine. Whatever.

I also found out the real reason we lost the phones on the front lanes: dumbass customers. It seems idiots, jackasses and fuckheads called our home office, complaining that the paging was "too loud". Fine. Whatever. I can't wait until one of these same idiots needs a price-check at the front lanes. They'll have to wait until a head cashier can get back to the cashier, and Gods help Mr Idiot Customer if this happens in my lane. Mr Idiot Customer will be getting the unadulterated truth, no matter how much it hurts.

And our manager Assface is getting dumber and dumber, as if that could even be possible. When it comes to ad-matching, the customer does not need the ads. You read that right; they need no ads at all when it comes to our ad-matching program. Which means the customer can make up any price at all and we have to give them the item for that price. Fine. Whatever. But then it gets really stupid. If an ad has an item advertised for a "your price after mail-in refund/rebate" price, we have to give the customer the rebate price! Which means the customer can get the rebate doubled! But I sigh and say again: fine. Whatever.

But if Assface wasn't stupid before, he's really gotten moronic with this little brainfart of his: he wants to stop group carding. Okay, let me explain: if a group of customers who look like they may (or may not) be old enough to purchase tobacco and alcohol try to purchase these items, we have to card everyone in the group. The reasoning? Someone in that group may be buying the age restricted item(s) for an underage person, which is called a "third party sale". As far as I know, we're supposed to make sure these types of sales do not happen; as to whether or not third party sales of age controlled substances are legal, I'm thinking no, though I'm really not sure. But Assface wants to drop that little safety net. Fine. Whatever. But that little screw-up could cost Assface dearly. If someone makes a third party sale, and this happens during a sting operation, we could be looking at some serious fines. And losing our right to sell age controlled substances.

But, hey, what do I know? I'm just a cashier. Who has a little something called "common sense".

--Weasel, glad she's on vacation

Nice Move, Idiots

Warning! This post contains language that some people may find objectionable, so if you don't like swearing, leave now.

As if the reports of looting, murdering and raping after Katrina weren't bad enough.

It seems that members of some law enforcement agencies are shooting stranded dogs in St. Bernard Parish, Louisiana. I hate to tell them this, but they are shooting at the wrong goddamned animals. They should have been shooting those fucking looters and armed gangs that were terrorizing the city. Bravo, you jackasses, bravo.

--Weasel, liking human beings less and less each day

SNAFU Part Deux

What the frak is wrong with our store manager? I mean, is he stupid or just retarded?

Okay, I get to work yesterday, get on my lane (#9) and notice that the phone on that lane is gone. Puzzled, I look around. Every checkout lane that used to have a phone no longer has one; they've all been removed. By now, I'm pretty confused. I know good and damned well that there is no way in hell (barring an act of God) that every frakking phone on the front lanes could possibly go down. So I asked a head cashier just what in the hell was going on, where the slag were our phones and her answer floored me: the store manager, aka Assface, had them all removed. Every last damned one of them (except one on lane 6, which is now marked "for management use only"). When I asked why, her response was even more shocking: seems Assface didn't like hearing any of us cashiers page. He thought we were doing it too much and worse still, we weren't "professional" enough for his taste.

Well, Assface has just managed to completely fuck himself.

There were only two reasons I ever used those damned phones: for price checks and for requesting perishable items pick-up. Now, I can't do either. Which means I'll be tossing a helluva lot more perishables (hey, how can anyone pick them up if I can't call the department?) and if a customer says that a $150 television is $50, they get it for $50 minus the $3 dollar credit we offer for mispriced items. (I can't call back to the department and check, now can I? I have to take the customer's word for it.) It goes without saying that our already low morale will sink even lower and our already low store profits will drop like a rock.

And I laugh. For in a few days, I'll be on vacation and won't have to see that hellhole for the next ten days.

--Weasel, thinking of hitting the "help wanted" sites in her area

SNAFU Central

What a way to run a business.

Was stuck on self-check again and none of them were working correctly. One was completely silent, one had been shut down, and all four of the self-check lanes were freezing up left and right. But the kicker was this:

Self-check #43 ran out of receipt tape, in the middle of printing out a receipt. I ran to the pay station to get another roll and found a whole lot of nothing. So, I put in an order for receipt tape and waited... and waited.... and waited....! It took ten minutes before I got the damned paper and an additional five minutes to reprint the receipt from the previous order! Aaarrrrgh! I swear, my supervisors don't know their asses from holes in the ground!

--Weasel, "Why must I be surrounded by frickin' idiots?!"

The Sow that Broke the Weasel's Back

Today started out as a pretty decent day... until I got to work. And the Sow, my least favorite head cashier, had to open her big fat mouth. It's not just that she has a really bad attitude, it's not just that she's a complete and utter snob, it's the fact that she acts so damned condescending. Which is how she treated me. In front several customers.

Frak it.

I'm seriously considering calling the home office on her sorry ass, mostly because our manager (who has shit for brains) won't do a damned thing about her. The Sow literally has the entire management team wrapped around her piggy little hooves since she does nothing but kiss ass and she thinks she can get away with this crap. I mean, management has yet to step in and do anything about her poor attitude (and her tendency to stick her fat snout in crap that has nothing to do with her), even though a lot of other employees have complained about her. Gods, the front end was so much quieter and a lot less stressful when the Sow was in stationary. Why the hell did she come back to the frakking front end? Why the hell couldn't she have gotten a position in personnel so I'd never have to see her ever again?

At least I have my vacation coming up in three weeks... if I can tough it out until then.

--Weasel, job-hunting will commence in three... two...

Bad News on My End

Ever feel like the Gods are kicking you while you're down? And even worse, they enjoy it?

Well, it's finally September, which means BotCon and my vacation are coming up soon. I was pretty happy about that until a few days ago: one of my best friends won't be able to go to the convention this year. It goes without saying that I'm upset. He's one of the main reasons I go to BotCon; Prime and I only get to see him once a year. Now, barring a miracle, we won't have the chance to see him.

This completely blows. If we're lucky, we'll see him next year... if the Gods don't decide to pull anymore bullcrap.

--Weasel, getting even more depressed than usual