Mr. Mojo Risin'

This evening at work as I was pulling bacon from the oven, the control panel shorted out and shot huge sparks at me. Then it proceeded to catch fire. We had to power down the kitchen until we could figure out which breaker controlled the power to the oven. Once we got it disconnected we got the flame out.

I told my manager that the oven couldn't withstand my powerful Mojo.

It's Been Awhile

I haven't posted in quite awhile, mainly because I had been busy with school and work. Eventually I reached a point where I just couldn't focus on school because stupid obstacles kept popping up and getting in my way, not the least of which is the fact my wife and kids refuse to grant me the freedom from distraction I need to get my work done. The online university has given me a run around with things they promise me and then later deny they ever said, and demanding more money. I got tired of it all and gave up for the time being.

Right now I'm working again and our goal is to move out of this trailer that's falling apart and into a rental house. Once that's accomplished I'll go back to school again. I'm still working at the fast food place I had been working at earlier, only there's an interim period where I didn't work so I could take care of the house and the kids, but now I'm back again.

This time around a lot of things are different, like some of the managers and quite a few of the procedures. There's a new "Grrrrl Pack" that I consider to be my own kids, and they're just like the old one: faces of angels, vocabulary of sailors.

The customers are still the same, however. 'Nuff said.

Here's My Book.

Office Supply Store Rip-Offs.

When is a sale not really a sale?

When the retailer is miserly cheap about it, and hides it in fine print.

Case example: I went to Staples, hoping to get a good deal on some disposable mechanical pencils. My spouse told me that (at the time of this writing,) the local Staples had packages of disposable mechanical pencils for 25 cents each in Staples’ back to school sale.

Since my children really love to use them at school, and they go through several of them every year, I picked up eight packages. I get to the register and my total comes to $16 and some odd cents.

W.T.F. ?

The cashier told me there is a limit of two per customer. Like, really, can’t I read? It’s on the sign at the display. I checked the sign. The disclaimer was printed in type smaller than a rat’s ass. Oh, I see. That’s makes it all nice, tidy, and legal.

First off, it’s not any kind of bargain worth wasting my gas coming to the store if I can only get two measly packages. Second, hiding things in fine print might be legal, but it sure as hell is not good customer service. Treat people like fools in that manner, and you can kiss customers goodbye.

That’s not the half of it. I desperately needed an ink refill for my printer. I have a super important project due. Unbeknownst to me at the time, the computer printer industry has undergone heavy consolidation lately, and most retailers only carry Canon, Lexmark, and HP. Not only that, but you can’t buy generic ink refills any more – the major brands have been cutting deals to chase the generics out of the market.

I simply refuse to pay the over-inflated prices of name brand ink. That’s like paying $500 for an alternator at a dealer when you can buy a re-built one for $89 at the auto parts store. It’s monopolistic restraint of trade, and retail piracy. I don’t stand for it.

So, the store person had to explain to me why I had to pay a king’s ransom for my ink. He did so with obvious disdain. What rock have I been hiding under? Why can’t I see the “obvious” advantages of genuine HP ink?

Even if I had the money they wanted for it, they didn’t even have the right cartridge I needed. So guess what? I gave the arrogant, computer nerd punk ass clerk a good “fuck you” in my mind, and I went to Wal Mart. They had plenty on hand of everything I needed and at a lower price. I mean, like right out of a cheesy customer testimonial on a commercial.

I absolutely hate both Staples and OfficeMax for just these reasons. Arrogant clerks and mis-leading advertising. Fuck that.

Put My Cheese Back, and F* off.

Sacred Cows and Finely Ground Beef.

You know the old saying about sacred cows – they make great hamburgers.

Yesterday I was browsing through the business section of my favorite book store. I saw several copies that old ivory tower management fad hack piece, “Who Moved My Cheese?” That’s the book which says we must always change, whether we need it or not:

• It says management should always cram change down people’s throats, whether they want it or not.
• It says that people who resist change are stupid, incompetent, stubborn morons and they should always feel guilty for resisting change.
• It says that people who resist change are disloyal to their company, and are worse that kitten-stomping axe murderers.
• It says we should never question management whenever they demand change, but instead we should always suspend our reason and common sense.
• We should just simply accept the word of management when they introduce change.
• When it becomes obvious the change is a bad disaster, we must suspend our reason again and ignore all evidence against the change.
• It says that all change is good, and there is no such thing as change that is badly planned and poorly executed.
• It says we should ignore all examples in history where bad change led to bad results, destroying businesses, governments, and entire populations. (Hitler, Stalin, the Khmer Rouge, and New Coke come to mind.)

If there is one “silver bullet” management fad that I absolutely HATE, its “change worship.” The one thing I hate worse than “change worship,” is people who are change “worshipers.” These are the people who take their brains out of their head and leave them at the door when they go to work in the morning.

I’m thinking of writing a book, and calling it “Put My Freakin Cheese Back, or You’ll Loose Your Arm.”

How Sweet It Is

In earlier entries I had mentioned having dreams about the local Target getting hit by a tornado. A couple of weeks ago, the store that fired me got hit by a Tornado and sustained considerable damage to the roof.

Payback is a bitch, baby.

Also: apparently Target has problems with the accuracy of their prices, especially on items marked down for sale. When customer try to complain about being overcharged, they are met with customary Target rudeness. (how those employees get to keep their jobs when I lost mine is beyond me.)

You can find the nice details about false advertising at Target right here at this link:

http://www.consumeraffairs.com/retail/target_pricing.html

Have a nice day, shoppers!

Just Shoot Me.

Right now I'm having to deal with someone who continually puts upon me problems I don't ask for or deserve, after all that I've done in the past to put up with them and the things that they do, after all I've done to go out of my way to help them get things that they want. To top it all off, this person has the nerve to bad mouth me continually behind my back to all her friends. One of these days, something is going to change, and it may not be pleasant for someone.

More Video Gamer Loser-dom.

In previous posts I've ranted about the absolute worthless losers who would get bent out of shape over the Nintendo Wii when I worked the electronics counter at Target.

Here's some more lovely idiocy that goes along with that:

Couple gets in fight over Wii. [link]

The guy gets pissed off because his girlfriend bought him a Wii, instead of the remote controlled plane he wanted. She starts to leave, he starts to whoop on her. She gives it back to him good, and both get arrested. The day after Christmas.

Is this guy stupid, or what?

His girlfriend manages to score a Wii, which is almost impossible to find, and he gets upset? What kind of idiot does a guy have to be? He could have easily sold it for twice what they paid (to begin with), but the least he could do is graciously accept what's given him by someone whose love is obviously misplaced. Then, he starts whooping on her the day after Christmas. Yessiree Mom and Dad, this girl has a real catch on her hands -- start addressing the wedding invites right now....

Ladies, I'll give you a helpful tip. If the grown man you're dating owns a video game set, ditch him and ditch him fast. Trust me on this one. When you marry a video gamer, you marry the back side of his head for hours at a time. You also marry his stunted emotional state, arrested somewhere about age twelve.

You'll have better luck marrying a Doctor who's always too busy for you. At least with the Doctor you won't be broke, and the Doctor will actually will be off his ass WORKING. At least a Doctor will posess half a brain and know what art and literature are. At least a Doctor will know how to bathe, brush his teeth, and shave once in awhile. A Doctor will know how to button his shirt right and match his socks.

When you walk down the street alongside a Doctor, you won't have a sign over your head shouting "I married a pathetic video game loser" in big, bright letters.

Ya Can't Fix Stupid

As I've mentioned earlier, I'm taking courses with an online university. My wife, who is a professional chef at a nice eatery here in town, has graciously consented to work while I finish my degree.

One thing became very apparent as I've been interacting with my online classmates, who on the average are significantly younger than I am: either our school systems around the country just generally suck, or these days kids are being born more and more stupid. Probably both.

Case in point: the class professor posted a discussion question asking us to define the term "weak dollar," and discuss the fiscal and monetary policies our government uses to influence the strength of the dollar.

My classmates immediately launched into a series of discussion posts that showed they hadn't done diddly-squat when it comes to reading the assigned text. They kept talking about inflation, and about how bummed they were about the rising price of clothes at the mall.

Jesus.

First off, the strength of the dollar does not refer to inflation. It refers to how well it trades against foreign currency on the international exchange markets. The professor posted a reply to one particular student telling her she needed to read the text again, when her responses had been showing that she had no clue.

She continued to make posts that looked like she had her head buried in the sand. I couldn't stand it any longer, so I made a post telling her as kindly as I could to read the text again. It's one of those situations where someone is making a complete fool of themselves and ignoring the warning signs, like walking out of the restroom with your skirt still tucked into the back of your pantie-hose.

She then replied to me very tartly, saying she had read the professor's post and didn't need a fellow student to lecture her about the text. All of her posts in the days after continued to show that she still didn't understand the subject, and she still continued to make a fool of herself.

Many of her classmates were in the same boat. It got so stupid in the virtual classroom that finally the instructor made a post literally BEGGING the class to understand the text before they discussed the subject further. A small handful of working professionals who are students in my class agreed with me that we needed to beg the university to get rid of all the morons.

Look Into My Eyes...You Are Spending More Money...

People with lots of experience in sales can probably identify with this post.

After having dealt with so many people at a fast food counter over a long period of time, I've developed the ability to pick up on who is more likely to be an easy touch for an upsell on their combo size. 

There are certain signs in a customer's behavior and choice of words that indicate to me who would more likely agree to an upsize when pitched. I also have discovered that when I use a certain choice of words in a certain order, with a certain tone of voice, an upsell is almost guaranteed. I'm not going to reveal here what these things are, because I consider that information to be proprietary to my success on the job.

This evening I had a typical case. A guy with his wife and kids ordered their food, and were trying to order as cheaply as possible. When I noticed that, my sadistic streak kicked in and I worked my magic.  Sure enough, what would have been a $10 sale ended up being more than $25.

As the family left the counter, I overheard the wife whisper to her hubby "how on earth did we just order $25 worth!?" He told her not to worry about it, just eat it and be quiet.

Heh-heh-heh.

Of course, this is all a hold-over from my days as a failed advertising sales executive. I spent a lot of money on courses in Sales Hypnosis and Neuro Linguistic Programming.  I may have really sucked as an ad salesman, but I can really work 'em over at the burger counter.

For those of you who are curious, here's what I CAN tell you: read the following book, available at Amazon, and you'll understand what I'm talking about:


I put links to the pages where these books are sold.  

Many people scoff after reading them. That's ok. Maybe next time they wonder why they paid $25 for couple of burgers, they'll know why.

Lawyers from Hell.

If you're illegally downloading music, and the record companies want to sue you, apparently even your own death won't protect you. I've heard of persistent lawyers, but this takes the cake.

Read about it here. [link]

Corporate Buzz Word For Today.

"EXPOSURE"

A long list of big names in European banking have had to admit they suffered huges losses from the collapse of a Ponzi scheme perpetrated by ex-Wall Street tycoon Bernard Madoff. All told, losses aroung the world from banks affected by the scam number in the hundreds of billions.

Read about it at Yahoo News [link]

All throughout the above article, spokespeople for these companies continually referred to their losses as "exposure."

"Shares in Santander Bank [of Spain] plunged after the lender said it had an 'exposure' of more than three billion dollars to Madoff Investment Securities..."

Here's something that I find interesting. When large European blue-blood banks loose multiple billions of dollars because of some hot-shot phony on Wall Street, the proper word for such a debacle is not "exposure." The proper description for that kind of disaster should be more like "We walked out of the office, pulled our pants all the way down, displayed our assets to women on the sidewalk, and completely humiliated ourselves."

Heh. "Exposure." What a laugh.

Teenie Bopper Hell.

It's no secret I hate punks.

This evening, a police officer showed up. The manager went out to meet him, and filed a report. Turns out one of the teen punks on the grill line stole cash out of the back office, and the manager got him on camera.

They all dress like "Whiggers." Now, it's obvious they *steal* like whiggers, too. Freakin' loosers. I swear that if I ever have a business of my own, I will never hire anyone under 19. Neither will I ever hire anyone who dresses like a whigger.

= = = = = = = = = = =

Yesterday, one of my favorites from the original "grrrl pack" filled in at our store for a shift supervisor who quit. It was "S." the Our Lady of Guadalupe look-a-like with the face of an angel and the vocabulary of a sailor. I was glad to see her again.

You Can't Fix Stupid.

In the same vein of Bill Engval's "here's your sign" humor about stupid people, we had another moron in the drive through today.

"What's in your strawberry shake? It's only just vanilla frosty mixed with strawberry flavor right?"

It was all I could do to keep from saying "No ma'am, our strawberry shake mix is imported all the way from the Bordeaux wine region of France, and we only use specially selected gourmet blends of berries and grapes...."

Then she asked "can you put some extra flavor in mine?" Okay, lady. I'll put some "extra flavor" in yours, you betcha. And a little extra protein to go with it, too. Moron.

Not too long after that, when my co-worker was taking drive-thru orders, I was listening in on my headset when I heard the lady shout out in between items: "move it, ya f*ing b*!" (refering to the car ahead of her who wouldn't pull forward). Lovely. With citizens like that, our country is in good hands.

In earlier posts I mentioned my intense hatred for teenie-boppers in the workplace. Today's shift was no exception -- they were all slow, stupid, lazy, and worthless. They begged to leave early, then made a huge mess in the lobby as they sat around with their buddies. One of them drew a picture of a big penis on the table. Needless to say, the shift supervisor was furious.

I heard rumors afterward that our roster is going to be missing a couple of people after today.

Ennui.

I am the king of procrastinators. All week long I've been putting off my schoolwork, because I've been very depressed and listless. Right now, I'm tinkering with the RSS feed aggregator settings in my Outlook 2007.

I love Outlook, but it doesn't have a newsreader like Windows Mail (formerly Outlook Express). I love Windows Mail, but it doesn't have calendaring and task managing like Outlook 2007 does. Windows Mail coordinate its RSS aggregator with Internet Explorer, but Outlook 2007 doesn't. Outlook 2007 coordinates with my calendars in my Windows Live accounts, but Windows Mail does not.

I paid good money for Outlook 2007, but it's pretty much worthless to me except for task managing and calendering. Windows Mail does pretty much everything else I need, including access my online classes through the newsreader, and Windows Mail was free.

Why can't Microsoft make something that can do email, newsgroups, RSS, calendar, tasks, contacts, and synchronize with Windows Live all in oneapp, instead of dividing it across two? Where's the sense in that?

Dammit.

Hippie Mac Inspiration.

Damn Hippies.

By now just about everyone has seen those PC vs. MAC commercials, with the hapless, frumpy businessman standing beside a hip, Gen-X college-Joe peace-love-dope hippie.

As much as I laugh at them, I really resent those commercials, to be honest. They imply that because I use a PC I'm a frumpy nerd who is out of it. The smarmy, wise-ass hippie guy just makes me want to punch his flower-power lights out.

Microsoft recently launched an ad campaign showing PC users from all walks of life, who are hard-working intelligent people that refuse to be pigeon-holed by MAC's stereotype of PC users. I just love these commercials.

The one that really sticks out in my mind shows a commercial fisherman working hard on the deck of his boat, and he says "I am PC, and this is my office." I used to live in a commercial fishing town, and I have a lot of respect for the people who work in that industry, which is really tough. I have very little respect for goateed slacker gen-x gamer hippies in t-shirts who sit on their ass designing bad advertising for graphics firms with their MAC's.

I believe it was Eric Cartman who said it best:

"DAMN HIPPIES..."

Have At It, Kid.

My four year old daughter has been affectionately labeled as "The Marauder" by her older brother and sister. Anything she gets her hands on, she tears to pieces. It is a continuous struggle for everyone in the house to keep their valuables out of her hands, before she annihilates them. One of her favorite objects to try and steal is Bullseye, my stuffed animal in the shape of the Target mascot dog.

BullsEye was given to me by the HR Team Leader after I had won a customer service contest held at the Target store where I used to work. That little dog meant a lot to me -- it was a symbol to me representing the pride I took in my customer service, service that I received many commendations and good ratings for, service that I tried to keep giving wholeheartedly even in the face of the most obnoxious and abusive jerks ever to drive Cadillacs and Jaguars. All the customer service I conscientiously gave didn't amount to didley when they fired me on December 26th for a mistake I made, when I was so sick I could barely stand up and I hadn't had my mood-meds for weeks.

Today my daughter found Bullseye again. It used to be that I would take it away from her, to protect it. Today, I stopped myself, thought twice, and decided to let her keep Bullseye, knowing that in a matter of days it will be reduced to a pile of cloth scraps and stuffing.

After the screwing in the a* I got from Target, why should I keep the piece of sh*? So I told my daughter, "here you go, sweetums, all yours."

School Daze.

At the moment I'm not working -- I'm doing school full time with an online university. I'm looking for a different part time job -- something in the evening that doesn't require handling a super heavy volume of customers, or dealing with teenage coworkers, or dealing with politically correct managers who practice reverse gender discrimination against males, or dealing with managers who sit in the store cafe barking out orders over the walkie while everyone else is out working on the floor.

Actually, that's a tall order. I don't know if such a thing exists, but I'll take as close to perfect as I can.