An Untitled Blog

Yeah yeah yeah, I know I’m being “that guy” but as one of few people I know who is vaguely of Native American (not Indian…Columbus you directionally impaired douche-nozzle) descent, I feel it’s my obligation to ruin this holiday for you. Also, the easter bunny is not real…

 
Unfortunately the nightmares I will have after seeing this are…

Seriously though guys. We all know the truth, so why do we overlook the fact that we’re celebrating the pillaging and death of the people who rightfully lived here first?


I might consider overlooking this if I had one of these.

Personally I don’t consider killing the Natives, taking their land and robbing their graves after they just fed your fat ass a very nice way to thank people.

Fuck thanksgiving. I’ll enjoy my turkey, but I’ll enjoy bitching more. 

Seriously, I feel like my heart is going to explode. That is all

I was recently asked by someone whom I have never been known to associate with: “Is working at Cold Stone like the funnest job everzz?”

I actually get this question a lot by customers, almost on a daily basis. So allow me to tell you what my job is like.

My job is simple, easy, and repetitive. Under normal circumstances these three things should combine to make a stress free-job environment-and yet they don’t.

Every single day some bullshit happens that makes my day at work weird and ridiculous for no reason. Whether it’s a lady with an indiscernible accent telling me she wants a discount due to the fact that the two cakes she’s holding have a different frosting circumference to the equality of five dollars; or if some bitch’s kid decides to jump on the cheerios he just dumped on the floor seconds prior.

            (my face on such occasions)

The bottom line is: if something stupid doesn’t happen to me; I wasn’t at work that day. If I don’t encounter a Russian woman who’s yelling at me because I refuse to write a fucking paragraph on a cake the size of my own hand; it’s not Three O’Clock yet. If I don’t have a customer that orders without even reading the ice cream labels and then rages when I tell them “I’m sorry, we don’t have that”; it’s not past noon. And if I don’t think about quiting, I haven’t left the house yet…

Now to actually answer this question: No, no it is not the best job ever.

I do not recommend doing this. A moose will fuck you up.

Something I recorded in my music tech class in highschool. I made it up on the spot-so it’s a bit buggy, but good enough. I need to fill up some space here…

I was at Chili’s last night. I burned my mouth on a god damned South Western Egg roll…

I don’t know why I’m doing this. No one gives a shit about what I have to say, mostly because I have nothing to say-I tend to just complain about things; mostly the stupidity of others, things that only interest me; and that’s about it.

But hey, it’s my blog-I’ll do what I want (cue the laughter of South Park fans) And I’ll mostly just use it to post pictures, songs, music (yes, there’s music other than songs) that I create and anything else that might be mildy interesting.

That is all.

A few select pictures from the trip to Mystic this past summer.