Tool Selection
Could be someone I know, someone I don't know, fictional characters, dead people. I don't care, I'm an equal opportunity complainer when it comes to complete dickwads.
Wherever there's a Complete Tool, I'll follow closely behind with my anonymous bitching. 'Cuz that'll show 'em.
Wherever there's a Complete Tool, I'll follow closely behind with my anonymous bitching. 'Cuz that'll show 'em.
About Me
Anti-Tool Committee
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Sunday, August 30, 2009
Seriously?
I never really go to the online "sell your own crap" type sites. I guess I just figure if I want homemade crap, I'd just get off my damn lazy ass and make it myself. Don't laugh, I can sew a straight line like no one's business.
Recently, a buddy of mine opened a shop on Etsy and I was checking it out. I said, "Eh, why not poke around a little and see what else is on here." Oh goodness, why? Why did I look?
They have a feature on there called "Pounce" that just pulls up random crap. You can filter it by "Just Sold" (shops that just sold an item) or "Undiscovered" (shops that can't sell shit). I was curious why no sales for the Undiscovereds. And now I know.
Take this purse for instance:
It's the picture of the flower. Some yo-yo wants me to spend $14.00 of my hard-earned dough on a picture I can take myself. I'll take my own daisy pictures for free, psycho. Okay, what else?
Someone's ugly wrinkly shirt for $25.00?
Another one? Who the hell is paying $150.00 for these purses. I'd like to have a word with you.
This horse pillow with dingle balls. I'm not even sure what the point of this is, but it's $20.00.
Okay, I actually kind of dig the knit cthulhu:
Anyway, so it's not all crap, but if any of these "shopkeepers" were asking my opinion (one of these days someone will be desperate enough to do so), I say stop making crap no one wants, then charging more than it's worth.
And start knitting some cthulhus (or is it cthulhi?). I think I'm going to go back and add that guy to my favorites.
Recently, a buddy of mine opened a shop on Etsy and I was checking it out. I said, "Eh, why not poke around a little and see what else is on here." Oh goodness, why? Why did I look?
They have a feature on there called "Pounce" that just pulls up random crap. You can filter it by "Just Sold" (shops that just sold an item) or "Undiscovered" (shops that can't sell shit). I was curious why no sales for the Undiscovereds. And now I know.
Take this purse for instance:
Hey, that's pretty cute! What's that gonna run me? Oh? $10.00? Not bad, I think I might.....NO! That's the shipping and handling. If you actually want something that looks like this purse it'll run ya $150.00. Well, no fucking wonder. What's it made out of? George Clooney's pubic hair? For shit's sake. $150.00? Let's look at something different.
What the hell is this? It's a flower? Are they selling a daisy on Etsy? Naw! They're selling just this:
It's the picture of the flower. Some yo-yo wants me to spend $14.00 of my hard-earned dough on a picture I can take myself. I'll take my own daisy pictures for free, psycho. Okay, what else?
Someone's ugly wrinkly shirt for $25.00?
Another one? Who the hell is paying $150.00 for these purses. I'd like to have a word with you.
This horse pillow with dingle balls. I'm not even sure what the point of this is, but it's $20.00.
Okay, I actually kind of dig the knit cthulhu:
Anyway, so it's not all crap, but if any of these "shopkeepers" were asking my opinion (one of these days someone will be desperate enough to do so), I say stop making crap no one wants, then charging more than it's worth.
And start knitting some cthulhus (or is it cthulhi?). I think I'm going to go back and add that guy to my favorites.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Take My Word For It
It seemed like a theme for yesterday.
The first time I heard it was from some guy who claimed that the other party responsible for signing his paperwork had, in fact, signed the document. Problem: I know the guy's signature and that wasn't it. Even after explaining this to the guy he says, "You can trust me. You have my word."
The second time I heard it was from a little old lady. She was having some difficulty signing her paperwork due to a medical condition that affected her hands, so I told her, "You can just initial or make some other kind of mark that's friendlier for your hands." Her response: "This is ridiculous. I don't know why I have to sign at all. You see me sitting here." Uh, yeah...the people I forward these documents to are going to get a little picky about there not being some kind of ink on this paper. We talked a lot about Power Of Attorney and she almost told me to get bent. Seriously?
The last time I heard it was from some young chick that was clearly ... battling some demons (read: strung out on drugs). She was asking our help to access some funds that belonged to her daughter. This woman's mother had worded her agreement in such a way that excluded the junkie from having access to them. Good job Grandma! We explained that we couldn't help her at all with her inquiries and she says, "But my mom said it was okay that we do this. Trust me."
No, I don't think I will.
Friday, August 21, 2009
The Night Before Saturday
'Twas the night before Saturday, when all through my work,
Everyone was all crazy, and being a jerk;
The clients were hanging off the door before open,
Don't think that they'll vaporize but I'm always hopin';
The employees were all puking and sick,
One of them's fakin', she can suck a fat dick;
And manager late as usual, I could care less,
You've got food on your clothes you fat, ugly mess;
She shows us a scowl that cuts through the chatter,
Then picks apart all our work like we don't even matter;
I punched her real hard, the fat fucking slob,
Ok, I didn't because I need my job.
She finally left without helping at all,
Probably went off to go cruise the mall,
At least now she stopped making us crazy,
It must be real hard to be that dumb and lazy,
She shouted with glee as she drove out of sight,
"See ya tomorrow! You know you're coming in right?"
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Dento-phobia
Again, I'm a lazy ass. I'm sure that there's a technical term for being deathly afraid of dentists, but I don't care to look it up. Actually, if I'm thinking logically, I'm pretty sure the title would indicate that I'm afraid of teeth. Well, close enough.
A gazillion years ago in my last visit to the dentist, I bravely sat there while Dr. Quackenstein fucked up my smile. Call me crazy, but I thought that dentists were supposed to make your teeth look good. I really must be an ignorant jerk.
He left black filling materials in one of my front teeth, drilled another one 1/2 way through then made fun of me when I asked him if he was going to fill it in (direct quote, "Why do you want it filled in? For cosmetic reasons?" Uh, yeah asshole. I don't like looking like a snaggle-tooth hillbilly), and lastly he filled in one of my back teeth only to have it break 2 weeks later on a sunflower seed.
I never went back. I never formally complained. I just tell everyone I know that story. He gets anti-referrals from me.
I finally got up the courage to go back to the dentist recently. The whole experience wasn't really as bad as I remember. Maybe I just have always had Scrivello-esque dentists. I needed a couple of fillings and my broken tooth will need a crown, but overall it wasn't too bad.
Until he was filling in one of my teeth and discovered that the last dentist just filled over one of my cavities. As if I didn't already despise that guy enough. Oh, and also, my new dentist was chastising me for the huge hole in my canine. He looked at me like I was a psycho when I told him that my old dentist left it that way. After the cavity-behind-the-filling discovery, I'm pretty sure he knows I'm not lying.
The other guy sincerely thought my tooth had a better shot at surviving with a huge, gaping hole. *cough*whatanasshole*cough*
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Hey Asshole! You Hate Chicken Wings...
Note to self:
When someone asks you if you want chicken wings, just say no. You hate them. Eating meat from the bone reminds you that the meat used to be an animal. The fat hanging off the things makes you gag. The skin gives you the willies. I'm not sure why you don't just give it up and become a vegetarian.
What do you do instead? You say "Suuuuuure! I'll have a few wings!" What is it about these stupid things that gives you disgust amnesia? You get them in front of you on a plate and it all comes flooding back. Now you're wasting food that someone else would have gladly eaten. What happens is you have to go picking through these fried up baby chick limbs for the tiny amounts of actual meat on there. It takes for.stinkin'.ever. Then you get all paranoid that you're about to eat a vein that you've somehow missed.
Enough is enough. Stop the madness.
How About Some Real Irony Alanis?
For all my grumblings about the tiny trespasses throughout my day, I'm really not a hateful person. No, all of my actual hate gets reserved for tools like Doug Manchester. Doug has been a major contributor to the anti-gay marriage movement. Let me just state for the record that I am firmly for gay marriage.
But, but, but Awesomeness....what about the sanctity of m-m-m-marriage? Fuck you. What are we trying to preserve here? Let's take a quick look:
- Even in this day and age, marriages are still arranged. Often between unwilling parties and often with "women" who have barely gotten their first period.
- Partner swapping is gaining popularity. I'm actually questioning if it's happening more, or if it was always a big deal and just not exposed as it is today. Whatever. Another time.
- Cheating is so commonplace that it's no longer scandalous.
- Divorce rates are through the roof. This is not news. Except when the news is publishing articles titled "Sooner Vs. Later: Is There An Ideal Age For First Marriage?"
- People marry out of obligation or expectation rather than commitment. This is my bottom line. Some of these convenient excuses: pregnancy, obligation for time served in the relationship, parental expectation, pay and benefits, unrealistic expectations of a marriage certificate fixing problems with the relationship.
My point: marriage, as it is, is not an institution that we need to preserve for select people. Two consenting adults does a relationship make. It's not any less serious a relationship just because the couple involved can't procreate with each other. Hell, heterosexual married couples opt not to have children. How are they any different?
Where is the line drawn? I've heard ignorant rantings from assholes who get their panties in a bunch because their insane theory is that it will open the floodgates for other undesirable couplings. I'm not sure that some people weren't harmed making such a drastic leap.
People marrying animals: animals cannot consent to a relationship.
Adult people marrying children: children also cannot give consent to a relationship. They can be pressured into saying they're fine with something to please an adult, but that's clearly not the same thing.
Oh yeah, and Doug Manchester, he's divorcing his wife of 43 years. How special is your marriage now Doug? You hate mongering tool.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
To My Work Children
Dear Work Children:
I was gone for one damn day and you all somehow managed to do everything but burn the place down. I know that some people think they're the "brains of the operation," but I think it might not be a huge stretch in my case.
How many times do I have to train you all how to fix errors in your submitted paperwork? I'll refresh your memory: it begins when you pull out the paperwork you fucked up and ends with you doing it over again for resubmission. Truth be told, those are the only 2 steps involved.
Can someone besides me put sugary food away in the refrigerator so we don't get ants?
Locking the cabinets 101: put the key-thingie I keep showing you into the little keyhole that it fits into. Turn.
When MisManager tells you to throw away tools that are mandatory for our security protocols, Just. Say. No. Good thing the trash hadn't been emptied yet.
Please refrain from stuffing my work folder with your filing. File your own shit you lazy assholes.
I will neither approve overtime for nor will I comp you for any time you volunteered to stay after your scheduled time out once your work is completed. "Out time" means "Get The Fuck Out." If you like it so much at work that you just can't bear to leave, that's on your own dime.
Don't leave it to me to call for maintenance to come out to remove graffiti from the property.
Also, when I mention the graffiti and the fact that it needs to be removed, don't bore me with a 5 minute long story about pigeon crap on a sign no one looks at. Let it go or call it in yourself.
If you're going to write me a note to let me know what happened while I was gone, emailing me and telling your coworker to tell me all about it is OVERKILL. I'm sure you'll also tell me yourself when you come back to work on Monday. I'll be nice and try not to stab you in the jugular with my pen.
Signed,
The boss
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Cheese - The Only Food You Need
Listen Grandma. You're an old lady and you're doing us a huge favor by watching our kids, so I'll try to take it easy on you. I have a newsflash: there are other foods in my kitchen besides ___(insert carb here)___ and cheese.
When you were feeding my daughter like this, I was pregnant and too tired to fight you. Now she eats 3 things for dinner: macaroni and cheese, grilled cheese, Ramen noodles with cheese (I know....poor kid). I do not want this for my son. I am not too tired to fight you this time.
When I come home from work to you proudly proclaiming that my son has scarfed down his macaroni and cheese dinner -- for the 3rd time in a week -- that's the last straw. I asked you to feed him something else and we have this conversation:
CheesyGrandma: I don't know what else to feed him.
Awesomeness: Food. Any Food. Any OTHER food. There's an entire kitchen full of it.
CheesyGrandma: Like what? I just don't know what else there is.
Awesomeness: What did you eat for dinner? Could you have offered him that?
CheesyGrandma: I ate chicken.
Awesomeness: There you go. Cut it up into little pieces and feed it to him.
CheesyGrandma: You want him to eat chicken?
Awesomeness: *trying not to strangle an old lady* Yes! I want him to eat chicken and other such foods. Anything else but macaroni and cheese.
I can't talk to you anymore Grandma, I'm losing it. We have our fridge, freezer and cupboards packed with good foods. This morning I fired you from dinner duty only because hubby won't let me fire you all together.
I can't stop you from feeding my son nothing but pancakes for breakfast. I can't stop you from feeding him nothing but peaches and jelly bread for lunch. I am home for dinner, however and I'll make sure that he eats real food like last night's chicken, avocado, tomato and black beans. He loved it. Probably because it wasn't macaroni and cheese AGAIN.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Sorry For The Inconvenience Your Majesty
You've got places to go and people to annoy, don't you CourierMan. It's just very aggravating for you that my company employs your company to transport documents back and forth between our offices, and you let us all know that.
You have a scheduled arrival time of 9:10. When you show up at 8:30 because it's more convenient for you, don't you think that giving us just a few minutes to get our stuff ready would be the polite thing to do? Obviously not, or you wouldn't have made my blog.
Instead, you stomp around the client waiting area all annoyed. You point out, a few times, to my staff that you have a schedule to keep. Nevermind that you're a full 40 minutes early for any schedule-keeping appearances.
Please note CourierMan: I don't care how many stops you need to make after you leave my building. I don't care that you're driving into traffic. I don't care that your next stops will also hold you up by not having their stuff completely ready (because you're 40 minutes early, by the way, in case I didn't mention that enough). The next time you stomp your pompous feet in my building, your ass is waiting for the scheduled pick-up time.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Don't Be That Guy (Hella Long...Just Like My Week -- Again)
Everyone wants to complain nowadays about how customer service has gone downhill. On some levels, I would tend to agree, but I'm going to let everyone in on a little secret. Just as kids make parents crazy assholes, customers make service representative utterly heartless and completely insane.
For example, here are the types of people I've had to work with this week. Most of them just yesterday:
Neddy NameDropper: At the first sign of trouble, Neddy starts droppin' names like they're hot plates full of angry scorpions. Who cares if those names still work there. Who cares if those names even know who you are. Who cares if the policy you're trying to circumvent came down as a direct imperative from the name they're tossing at you.... Pssssst...Neddy, it usually is.
Don't be that guy. No one is impressed that you know the name of their manager. If you make a phone call to an office and ask who the manager is, you now have that information. Congratulations.
A tip: if you actually know the manager, or someone else that makes a difference, it is a lot more impacting when you just quietly take down the name of the jackass helping you and report them calmly and factually. When you scream and fling names like ninja stars at people, it's harder to take you or your problem seriously.
Lambert The Loyal: This customer pleads their case by reminding you that they've been a customer of your company since before the dinosaurs died. Then they go and blow that terrific argument by telling you that they've been considering doing business with another firm recently. Why'd you do it Lammy? You were doing so well!
Don't be that guy. Lambert is a douche to the 20th power. He's also like a second cousin to Neddy NameDropper. They share that, "Don't make me find someone else that will take better care of me than you." attitude. Now, please don't mistake that statement. The customer should be taken care of. I'm talking about unreasonable requests. Such as the one I got yesterday when some Lambert walked in and wanted to be waited on before the 5 other people standing in front of him because he was "in a hurry". Uh, so is everyone else.
A tip: if you actually have a reasonable argument to make, just make it. You don't need to pad your facts with veiled or overt threats about taking your business to a competitor. If you don't like the service somewhere, you're always free to go somewhere else. Everyone knows this, the reminders are unnecessary. It makes you look like a manipulative dick.
FairWeather Franny: When everything is hunky-dory, Franny is the nicest person you'll ever know. She'll joke, chat, commiserate, compliment. Until the smallest thing doesn't go her way. Suddenly, you're out to screw her, you're liars, you killed her kitten in the 3rd grade.
Don't be that guy. Sorry we're not perfect Franny. No one is. It's the same thing Lambert's going to find out when he finally goes off to CoolCompetitor.
A tip: if you ever find yourself faced with a problem with a company you otherwise love, calmly and intelligently work it out. Most of the time, these things happen because of a miscommunication or misunderstanding. It's not the end of the world and alienating yourself from the people that you rely on with spoiled brat antics is not too smart.
GuiltTrip Gary: If you're a nice person, you'll take good care of this guy. You don't seem to care at all that he can't afford the fees that your company charges everyone for service. Your reasonable alternatives do Gary no good because they involve Gary doing something besides standing in front of you and whining about how life's unfair because he can't pay you for what he's asking for. Gary's no dummy, he knows that you make a commission off of all of your company's fees and that's the only reason you're charging.
Don't be that guy. If you don't already know, companies charge fees for services. They'll let you know up front what they are. If they don't, run for the hills. Sometimes fees can be negotiated, but a lot of times, you'll need to just accept that they are what they are and make a choice to either pay them or find out what your alternatives are.
A tip: employees don't typically have control over what their companies charge. They just know that there is a charge and it applies to your circumstance. Demanding their manager is a gamble. Some of them do have a personal stake in their office's bottom line. For a reason. Figure out your alternatives and if the charge is really worth it before you complain. If you have questions about the legitimacy of any charge, demand to see it in writing. If the employee can't produce some sort of written document that breaks down your charges, go elsewhere.
Insider Isabel: The worst person to wait on is someone who is also in the same industry. Some asshats actually expect better service than they give from other people who share their chosen profession. They'll condescendingly instruct the employee through every aspect of their job. I'm guessing just for shits 'n giggles.
Don't be that guy. You know what it's like to be the person whose life you're now making into a living hell. Instructing someone who is not under your direct supervision does not make you look cool. It makes you look like a tool.
A tip: remember that office to office, store to store, restaurant to restaurant rules change. You have different management, different clientele, different environment. Just because you're in the same profession, it doesn't mean you've done their job.
My favorite phrase of the week:
"Are you going to explain to my boss why I can't afford the necessary equipment to finish my job thanks to you?" Uh, no. You don't want me to make that call. I will actually tell your boss that you had alternatives to paying for our services. Free alternatives.
My least favorite phrase of the week:
"You people....." I don't even care what you have to say after that. The quickest way to ensure a negative outcome with me is to start your sentence that way. I can't believe how much ignorance and contempt can be woven into two words.
All right. Everyone cross your fingers that next week will be better. I have Monday and Friday off, so it just has to be 3 easy days.
Please don't suck, please don't suck, please don't suck....
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