Thursday, December 26, 2013

Dixie Chick

 She was off in the corner of the casino sitting in her mobility scooter, playing video poker, & smoking a cigarette. Beside her was an oxygen tank feeding oxygen into her nose. Her name was Dixie.

  I started my shift by walking to my assigned area & noticing Dixie’s change light was on, so I walked over to her and mistakenly asked, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

 Dixie immediately went off on a tirade, “You can get me my $200 back!”

 I asked, “What $200?”

 She yelled at me, “The one you stole from me!”

 I explained to her that I didn’t take her money. After ten minutes of her going off on me, I figured out what Dixie was bitching about.

 Dixie was playing a $1 video poker machine where you can bet up to 5 credits per hands. Unfortunately for her, she mistakenly bet 1 credit & wound up hitting a 4 of a kind. A 4 of a kind pays $250 if you bet five credits or $50 if you bet one credit.

 House rules, it’s your responsibility to make sure your bet is registered before you play a hand, & malfunctions void all pay outs, but Dixie plays a lot, so the casino should have just paid her to shut her up! For fuck sake, they would have got the money back in a matter of minutes, in the end the casino spent more on labor dealing with her, & other customers didn’t get the customer service they needed, but what do I know? I am an alcoholic & a failed punk rock musician.

 The misplayed hand happened at 5:30am, that’s four & a half hours before I even started my shift.

 I later learned that every 30 minutes before I walked on the floor she was hitting the change light asking for her $200, screaming at any slot floor person or cocktail server that happened to walk by. She repeatedly asked for a supervisor or manager, but they told her they were through talking to her, so they never came when she demanded one. I am surprised she kept playing, if I was in her situation and I felt ripped off. I would have stopped feeding my money into the slot machine. If the management refused to “deal with me”, I would have told them to, “eat a dick!”

 For the rest of the day Dixie would call me over and yell at, threaten, or insult me. Dixie even went as far as threaten to come back at a later date to beat up one of my coworkers. I was now frustrated at my employer, I shouldn’t have had to put up with this shit, but middle management doesn’t care, I am disposable & stupid me sticks around.

 At one point in the day, Dixie even accused me of being the employee who first helped her at 5:30 in the morning. She demanded that I tell the truth about ripping her off. Fuck, I was probably still drinking at the time of the incident!

 Every time Dixie called me over she would say, “I’m never playing here again” or some bullshit along those lines. I would stand there quietly, listening, sweating out the previous night’s booze, hoping that she’d, “show us” & go play elsewhere… she never did, she remained at the same video poker machine, pumping thousands of dollars into it.

 I kept explaining to Dixie that there was nothing I could do, I explained to her that management was through discussing the issue with her, but she kept going off on me. All day long she’d call me over to yell at me about the $200. After a while, I just avoided her & never came by. I eventually told my boss that I refuse to deal with her, he told me, “Fuck her!” 

 I ended my day, and walked off the casino floor relieved to be through with Dixie, I drove home frustrated, promising to buy myself some beer.

 24 hours later, I was hung over & Dixie was still off in the corner, sitting in her mobility scooter, playing the same video poker machine, smoking a cigarette & bitching about the $200.

Sunday, December 8, 2013

I don't Have Moves Like Jagger, and Fuck Anyone Besides Mick Jagger That Does...

 Many years ago my old boss sat me down and told me, “Karl, unlike a lot of the other employees you have the potential to succeed, but for some reason you choose not to”

 Fuck this guy, I have succeeded... to me success is using up all of my sick days to do fun shit like eat Thai food with my daughters, sitting on the patio reading, convincing Bethany to join me in a work ditch day, & getting an early start on tonight's drinking binge.

If I Write A Song About You Don't Take It As A Joke...

  I had my face inside of a slot machine, doing some minor repairs when I hear a man’s voice bark at me, “Rest blah, blah, blah”

 I wasn’t too sure if the voice said “restroom” or “restaurant”, When you have a radio in one ear, & lots of casino noise to compete with, it can be difficult to hear what some asshole has to say. I say to the customer “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. Do you mind repeating that?”

 He did mind. I was stared at as if I was stupid & then the old fuck barks, “Restaurant!”

 I ask the guest, “the buffet or the coffee shop?”

 I could hear the agitation in the old man’s voice, “RESTAURANT! – a place where you get food”

 I say back to the old fuck, “I know what a restaurant is!”

 The old fuck shakes his head, “No, don’t shake your head at me. I’m not some fucking animal” I say to him.

 The old man starts to walk away from me, I say with a deranged laugh “that's right, walk away you fucking pussy!”

 The old fuck catches up with his wife & tries to wave me off. I say to him, “that’s right hide behind your boyfriend, you fucking faggot!”

 His wife starts to cry & rhetorically asks, "What’s wrong with you?"

 For the record, I hate when people use terms like “gay” to describe shit or use words like “faggot” as an insult, but this was an all American “man” & American “men” have man issues, nothing upsets them more than questioning their sexuality or manliness. As for me I don’t give a fuck about being a “man”, and I don’t care if someone thinks I am a faggot, I have sucked a cock or two and really enjoy it.

 The old man tells his wife to stay put, he has to defend her honor. He walks towards me with his fist up! I point at his wife & say to him, “that’s right, leave the boy over there!”

 He yells at me, “that’s it, you asked for it, you bum!” he then clocks my lip. I could taste the blood, “Ahhhh I love pain!”

 The old fuck punches me again above the eye. I reach my hand into my pants & begin to masturbate, “ahhh that feels good! Pain is my only way I can feel!”

 The old fuck keeps punching me, while I stand there pulling my pud, I quickly ejaculate my fuck. I pull my hand out of my black work pants, & I reveal that my hand is covered with sperm. I extended my hand to him & ask, “Do you want some?”

 He hollers at me, “You are fucking sick!”

 I let off a laugh, then I put my fingers to my lips, & I gobble up the cum, “hmmm, delicious!”

 The old fuck says, “Jesus Christ!”

 I say back, “Jesus Christ has nothing to do with this, but now I’m gonna have to fuck you up!”

 The old fuck charges at me, but I quickly get him in a head lock. With my free hand I reach into my pants, pulling out some sperm, & then I rub it across his face, while saying, “That’s right, it tastes good, I knew you would like it, you fucking faggot!”

Saturday, December 7, 2013

Full Disclosure Alert!

 Going from the shit I type up it would be easy to assume that all of my customers are assholes, but the truth is most of my customers range from being super duper nice to being what you would expect of someone on vacation. The assholes are just so absurd they seem funny to me.

 Now that you read that, I want you to forget that you read it, because it is much funnier to assume I am a bitter fat guy, fuming with rage for my customers & the only thing that can simmer it is ice cold beer, whiskey, & the shittiest music imaginable! 

Another Post About My Asshole (former) Supervisor

 I was sitting in dispatch, dispatching calls when my supervisor walked through the door & asks me, “Do you know what kind of neighborhood has three fried chicken places on one corner?”

 I ignored him hoping he’d go away, I have heard enough grandpa jokes to know that this was one of those racist observations that is supposed to be a joke, but not really a joke.  

 He blurted out “a Churches, a Popeye’s, & a Kentucky Fried Chicken!”

I said to him, “Man, I don’t even want to know!”

He said, “It was like a fucking Snoop Dog video!”

 He went on to talk about his latest adventure at Larry’s Villa, he explained that it used to be much better when it was just a place for white trash strippers, he was disgusted because now it was a place for, “big black bootie women!”

 My supervisor added, “There were a bunch of black drug dealers watching them!”

 I wondered how he knew they were drug dealers & I told him, “Shut the fuck up!”

 He laughed, sensing I wasn't offended enough for his liking, he launched into a rant about how he hopes they* hurry up & build an electric fence on the border, “so we can keep those tax evaders out, because they are sucking up all of our resources!”

 I tried to argue his point with my progressive “bullshit”, but he cut me off with an argument to end all arguments, he said, “I know this is true my mom told me so”

 Yup, this coming from a guy in his 30’s, I went back to drawing & dispatching calls. My supervisor walked out of the dispatch room satisfied that he offended someone he believed to be a democrat. I don’t know if this guy even believes this bullshit or if he says it to me to piss me off.

*they being the Federal Government that he hates!

Friday, December 6, 2013

Fuck This Guy!

 I was helping a customer when some asshole “outlaw” biker butts in, “Where’s the fucking bathroom?”

 Annoyed I didn’t respond, I went back to helping the original guest, but once again the “outlaw” biker interrupts me, “come on, I have to piss… where’s the fucking bathroom?”

 I gave the “outlaw” biker my attention & told him, “You are just gonna have to wait!”

 “Fawwwwwk!” he says.

I thought to myself, “what an asshole, I wonder if this is Danny’s boss?”

 When I finished helping the guest I was originally helping, I paused & looked the “outlaw” biker up & down, then I shot him a look that expressed that I was not impressed. I don’t consider him to be the all American bad boy, America’s outlaw export to the world, or the modern day cowboy, to me he is just a fucking poser & another impatient asshole, who needs to die fucking die!

 With a drawl emphasizing my lack of enthusiasm, I ask, “so, you want the bathroom, hugh?”

He grabs his crotch & says, “yeah!”

I say to him, “follow me”, and then I lead him towards the restroom.

 As we are walking through the casino a woman walks towards us, the “outlaw” biker says “wow, what a fat bitch!”

 I roll my eyes

 It then becomes apparent the women is pregnant, the “outlaw” biker corrects himself and says, “she’s a pregnant fat bitch!”

 I wonder if he thinks I’m impressed by this or find his bullshit funny. I think to myself, “You want to make me laugh? Talk about queefs!”

 As we get closer to the pregnant women, the “outlaw” biker says to the women, “you’re a fat pregnant bitch, you know that?”

 I feel like pulling the gun out of my tool belt & shooting the man, but then I remember that I don’t own a gun, I want to stab him in the throat with my screwdriver, but I lost my screwdriver in a slot machine 3 months ago & never cared enough to buy another one.

 I tell the “outlaw” biker, “Knock it off”

 He asks me, “You don’t like that?”

I said sternly back to him “no I don’t, knock it off!”

 I then pointed in the vague direction of the bathroom & bark at him, “the bathroom is over there”

 I walked off thinking to myself, “go fuck yourself!”

Thursday, December 5, 2013

Reason #412,953,751 My Old Supervisor Is Human Caca

 Many years ago my supervisor (at the casino we no longer speak of) asked me, “Can you believe it, my girl left me for some guy in Wisconsin that she met on World Of War Craft?”

 I could believe it, this guy was a vile human being, a sexist prick, a homophobic asshole, & pompous fuck. The shit he did behind his lady friend's back would make me believe he would be relieved…

 I asked him, “What happened?”         

 He first asked me if I knew what World Of War Craft was, I told him “yeah, that’s what the asshole security guard in my neighborhood is always talking about”
 My supervisor then made an asshole comment about one our coworkers Adam playing the game.
 I let off a laugh and said, “That would be fucking awesome if it was Adam”

 My boss gave me a dirty look, he didn’t find my dumb comment funny.

 I found it strange that this guy was sad, he was always sharing stories with me about getting his dick wet with woman he met on hook-up lines & fuck sights. Now he has more time to philander & do whatever gross shit his pimply dick desires. 

Sunday, December 1, 2013

Do You Know Where I Can Find Some Pussy?

 Recently, I was working on a slot machine, when I felt a finger poke my back. I got up, turned around, & found a young drunk white dude (aka frat boy) behind me, so I asked him, “is there anything I can help you with?"

The douche bag asks, "Do you know where I can find some pussy?"

 I don't know what compelled me to do this, but I pointed my finger at his crotch. The douche bag got really mad & I could tell that he was debating punching me, luckily for me he didn't.

 I'm not the most politically correct guy or some feminist (obviously), but it bugs the caca out of me when someone refers to woman as “pussy”. I wanted to slap the guy & tell him, "Have some respect for yourself & others, you pathetic piece of shit". Unfortunately I was at work so I wrote this on a piece of paper, that I folded up, & put in my pocket for later.


 I used to work at a distribution center for Lechters. It was a horrible job that required emptying trucks full of bake ware, cooking supplies, & knick knacks that collect dust in a kitchen. The best part of working for Lechters was that they constantly hired temp workers, which meant a steady stream of underpaid coworkers that didn't give a shit about anything.
                                                                        One of the temp workers that I met was a guy that looked like a vampire, he told me that he played guitar & once played in Christian Death, but not on any of their good albums. He went on to explain that he lived in LA, but was stuck in Las Vegas due to a recent drug charge, but this story isn't about him or the shitty Christian Death album he played on.

 One particular morning my boss introduced me to a temp worker & informed me that I would be responsible for him. My new coworker looked like your stereotypical 70's Hollywood version of a Mexican. He looked like Cheech Marin & had the exact same accent. He would constantly ask me, "Do you cruise Balboa Park?"

 I told him that when I was younger I went there, he laughed & said, "I figured as much".

 I liked working with the guy, he was a hard worker, & for the most part he was cool as fuck. He would tell me about being in prison & about his seasonal work he did installing above ground pools. The only weird thing about the guy was that he would always call me Chappy. One day while we were unloading a truck full of boxes marked Rubbermaid he said to me, "hay, Chappy can I borrow your box cutter?"

I handed him my box cutter & asked, "Why do you always call me Chappy?"

 He let off a laugh & explained, "Chappy was a guy I was in prison with & you look just like him, we called him Chappy because we used to put Chapstick on his ass & butt fuck him".

I began to laugh & said, "Rad!"

He then told me, "I'm serious, when you are in prison you are either the boyfriend or girlfriend!"


 When BJ & I graduated high school we started a punk band together called Puckered Starfish. At one band practice he told me he once fucked a watermelon (or maybe it was cantaloupe).  He explained that it felt good, but after a while he had to cut a new fuck hole because his fucking eventually stretched out the hole making it too loose to fuck… I did see BJ recently at Walgreens but he didn’t tell me anything as interesting as the Watermelon fucking!

Career Opportunities

When I was 15 years old I asked my Dad if he would drive my friend BJ & I to the mall. He agreed because he knew if we were out of the house, our shitty punk band wouldn’t be causing a racket & he wouldn’t have to hear us sing “fuck!”

 When we entered the mall we were wearing the shittiest cloths in our entire wardrobe. Our cloths were stained, torn, & our t-shirts featured vulgar images of bands we thought were awesome. BJ had a tie tied to his head, for an added touch I had my clothes on backwards, & both of us made sure our hair was messy. We went straight for Jewelry stores, lingerie shops, & any place selling formal wear. Most of the stores wouldn’t give us a job application, which made us laugh! One employee even gave us a pep talk about coming back when we were cleaned up & had nicer cloths on.

 To add to the fun, at some businesses we would pretend to be retarded, or speak with a foreign language. Sometimes we would pretend that we just moved here from England & we would speak with a thick cockney accents, it was a laugh riot. 

 Occasionally we would take a break from the game and go to the woman’s department at JC Penny and try on dresses, we thought we looked pretty!

 After a few hours my dad picked us up at the prearranged pick up spot at the prearranged time. Cut us a break, this was way before cell phones were affordable & accessible, & we couldn’t just call Daddy when we were ready to be picked up.

 My dad asked us if we had a good time & what we did. We explained to him that we went to the mall wearing our crappiest cloths & asked for job applications. My dad being a Republican didn’t find this amusing, he shouted at us, “what if some day, you wanted that job? Now you can never have it”. This game was even funny after you left the mall, as my dad yelled at us, we laughed more, as we laughed more, he yelled more & grew increasingly frustrated. Punk Rock!

 I’m now pushing forty & I’m glad to report that I still don’t want those jobs, or any job! 


 Last night at work a drunken lady walked up to me, looked at my name tag, & said, "Karl, I have a snappy pussy! What do you think about that?" I thought to myself, "FUCK YOU!"

 I told her, “it is creating images of snapping turtles, kind of like that Chuck Berry song My Ding-A-Ling".

 I already knew what the lady was getting at, she was a drunken ass hole that wanted to fuck, & no one would fuck her all night long, so she is trying to pull a Thomas Jefferson by fucking the help. She put her arm around me & asked, "so are you gonna help me & fuck my snappy pussy?"

 I told her that I am getting off work shortly, but I would rather get drunk & listen to punk rock records. She seemed annoyed that a loser like me wouldn't jump at the chance at fucking her "snappy pussy".

 I assume I was the last somewhat fuckable looking guy in the casino, so she tried to persuade me one last time by saying, "but I have a nice pussy".

 I stood there and shrugged my shoulders and pretended to act dumb. She got frustrated & asked "why won't you fuck me?"

 I guess I could have told her, "I'm married", but the reason why I wouldn't "fuck" her is because she was an asshole. I shrugged my shoulders again & told her, "I am going to FEST next month!"

 She wasn't impressed by my dumb comment & walked off calling me a faggot.