Say Hello To Me!

Do you have unanswered life questions? Maybe you just want to say hello to me. Well, you're welcome to e-mail me at If nothing else it just makes me happy.

Monday, September 27, 2010

'Tis The Season

It's that time of year again; the leaves are changing colors, there's an invigorating chill in the air and the first cold sore of the season has appeared smack dab in the middle of my lower lip. Yes, fall is here.

Now some people don't get cold sores. I hate you. I really really hate you (while still respecting you as an individual). This one isn't too bad, thank god, but there is still the possibility of worse to come as the lovely Kansas weather keeps teeter-tottering back and forth from warm to cold.

So for those of you who aren't familiar with the emotional and physical pain that accompanies cold sores/fever blisters, I have decided to clear up a few things.

1.) Abreva sucks ass. It does not work. You can spend a small fortune on a tube barely bigger than the tip of your pinkie, slather it all over your lips for the rest of eternity and it. will. do. nothing.

2.) Boys: If you accidentally give a girl a cold sore (yes, they are very contagious), do not give her a tube of Abreva to make up for it. It is not romantic and does not help. I would go with some roses and a card saying 'Sorry for giving you a lifelong social abomination.' (I would go with yellow roses. They are the friendship rose and you most likely will not be more than that with said girl after kissing her when you have a cold sore. Also, it will cost about the same as a tube of Abreva.)

3.) Pointing at someone with a cold sore and screaming out 'HERPES!!!' like you suddenly came down with STD Turrets is not clever. It is annoying and childish and makes me want to plant one on you so that you can feel my pain and I can have sweet revenge (don't worry, I'll send you a bouquet of yellow roses with some Abreva attached to them).

So the next time you see someone with an awkwardly dark shade of lipstick on, or a clever scarf draped around the lower part of their face, politely speak to them as if nothing is out of the ordinary. If not, you may be subjected to an ugly arrangement of flowers at your doorstep in the near future.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Why Are You Telling Me?!

Yesterday wasn't enough for me. I want to do a little more bitching commenting about facebook. What is the [//put] random words brackets about when posting statuses on facebook? Is it supposed to emphasize certain words? Are you trying to tell me that you are in true pain as opposed to the mundane depressing statuses of your friends? Tell me, facebooker! Tell me!

I recently came across this one:

"‎[[ShUt yOUr MouTh]] you [[Dirty]] little hamster!"

First of all, I don't even know what this means. I'm hoping it's a quote from something because I would be severely dissapointed if this person came up with this phrase and thought it was clever. Sorry, I don't think it's going to be the next 'Yo quiero Taco Hell'.

My advice, and I am going to extend this to all facebookers who try to be pensive and clever in their statuses; just don't. That is my catchphrase, or My New Philosophy as Sally Brown would say. Just don't. Think about it, chew on it, maybe even swallow it but then spew it up like a teenage girl trying to be prom queen. The brackets don't make friends, they make friends make fun of you behind your back.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

How To Piss Off Your Manager

The other day I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off at the locally corporate owned restaurant I work at. We'll just call it shmupplebees. Or maybe orangehornet. I don't know, I'm bad at making up names. Anyhoo, I had a couple credit cards in my hands because one of my tables wanted to pay, and that's generally what they do when they want to pay; they give me money. It's pretty common-practice. I also had in my possession some dirty plates. Again, this is a corporate restaurant so there are certain rules we have to follow that I'm sure were made up solely for the convenience of the workers. I took them to the back because "Under no circumstances are you supposed to plate park, Ms. Hoag. Feeling like you're going to gouge your eyes out because you're so busy is no excuse!". (Plate parking is setting dirty dishes on the side station for an hour minute because you're too lazy busy to take them to the back)

I decided to be a good employee for a minute, and take the plates to the back before I ran the cards. I ended up being the only server back there and there was food to be ran. The expo called for a runner and I politely shouted at her that I couldn't because I had someone's money in my hand. I ran out of the kitchen and ran the cards so that my table could leave. Now I've been told time and time again that if you have someone's money it is your first priority to get said money back to them. This is one of the rules that I whole-heartedly agree with.

After a few minutes, my manager, shmjason, came up to me and began reprimanding me for my actions. He informed me that having someone's credit card is no excuse to not run food.

"But I've been told that getting a table their money back as soon as possible is first priority," I..politely..said.
"It's always hot before anything!" he snarkily remarked.
"I'm not going to make people wait for their money to run food!" I politely retorted. "I've been told over and over that this is the right way to do it."
"Are you seriously going to argue this with me?!?!" he replied, his face becoming a bit purple in the cheek and everywhere area.

Now, I understand I'm not a manager. In fact, I thank God every night before I drink large amounts of beer go to sleep so that I can wake up bright and early and be a productive member of society. But come on! This feels like it should be common sense!

Just because you're a manager doesn't meant that
1.) You get to treat and talk to me like I am in kindergarten
2.) Expect me to go with every decision you make without question like I do not have a mind of my own (I believe this is kind of what happened when Hitler took over Germany. Are you a Nazi shmjason? Are you?!?!)

Over all, though, lesson learned in my book. I hereby promise not to bypass food that needs to be ran in order to get customers back their money. I will simply plate park and run the cards before taking the dishes back to the kitchen instead.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Your Mom's On Facebook

I was talking with my mom about my cousin who posts inappropriate statuses on facebook. Now, they wouldn't be so bad except for the fact that she is "friends" with several of our family members on the site. It got me thinking about the statuses that I put up, and what kinds of things would upset me if they were posted on my wall. I too, by the way, am friends with quite a few family members including my mom on facebook. Also, as a side note, she posted statuses like "f*** you! f*** you! f*** you! f*** you!" and things along the lines of "I love marijuana".

Now my family is fairly liberal, but there are still some lines that shouldn't be crossed and some censorship that should be taken into consideration. I decided to come up with a few statuses and posts that I would not appreciate making their way onto my page.

Hey, is it cool if I get that sack from you by tomorrow?

Today is 'national screw your boyfriend in a park day' Mom, I hope you're proud of what's become of your daughter!

I hope you didn't mean to run that kid on the bike over. Don't worry, I won't tell the cops!

You only shoplifted one bottle of tequila from the store?! That is so not going to last the entire night.

Hey Kara, I hope you used a condom on 'national screw your boyfriend in a park day'. We don't need any little munchkins running around.

So is a UTI a symptom of herpes? Or is it just chlamydia?

So be careful, all of you facebookers out there. God is watching you. I mean your mom is watching you.

Memory Lane Will Be Temporarily Delayed. Traffic Updates To Follow Shortly.

I was at my mom's today, and we sat there listening to my seven-year-old niece read us the book That Man is Talking to his Toes. I ended up doing a bad job of listening, even though I love that book and think it is hilarious. In the middle of story time I got to thinking about what books I loved as a child. I remembered this one I read in the library of my old elementary school, but could not for the life of me think of the title. The only thing I could remember was that it was about fairy tale characters (such a The Three Bears, The Big Bad Wolf, Little Red Riding Hood, etc.) receiving letters from a mailman. In case you don't know, this is kind of hard to go on in order to find the book title.

I would like to throw out a big thank you to Google.

I started typing in random words that had to do with this book. All I could find were books that referenced phrases from unknown book, and due to the snippet view that was available on Google (thanks again!) I couldn't find the title. It's like someone telling you are warm in a game where you find ten bricks of gold, but you can never get to the 'hot' part of the game. (Hot-Cold game. Come on people!)

Finally I found my book title. It is called The Jolly Postman. It follows this postman as he delivers letters to various creatures of the fairy tale world. The envelopes are glued to the pages, so you can take out the letters and read them. I know that I usually dedicate my posts to making fun of things displaying my vast knowledge of human nature, but I was just so excited about finding this book that I wanted to write it on here. I am going to give it to my niece for Christmas so that I can play with it...I mean so that she can enjoy it as I once enjoyed it.

The moral of this is that all you need in life is a little Google magic.
Google magic, my friend, Google magic.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Picture Perfect

Today I decided to be productive and surf the Internet for awhile. There is a vast amount of information that can help you through daily life at just a click-of-the-button. You can learn how to improve your image, choose a better career, and turn your life around all together. So I dove into the interwebs and found something that indeed did change my life. Funny portraits that people have taken. Don't confuse this. They aren't meant to be funny. They are funny because these people are serious...(-ly deranged..). You can view the full thing here if you want to. I chose two to display.

I don't even know where to begin on this. He looks so happy. Like every moment of his life is filled with psychotic joy kind of happy. And his loving embrace with his hand on the child? He must be the father, not a pedophile who has had a kid imported so he can....yeah.. he's not the father. Well, sir, I'm glad you now have a photo to remind you all of the good times you had choking this boy. May you look at it while you sit in jail after they discover the vast amount of child porn saved onto your computer.

I'm going to leave this one as WTF?!
Oh, and I feel sorry for you child in the tigger costume. I feel sorry for you. Beer will make it all go away someday.

Friday, September 3, 2010

It's My Party And I'll Cry If I Want To.

So I feel the need to say this. I. hate. kids. I hate the way they spend 98 percent of their time crying, eating, pooping, eating, crying, pooping, and drooling on things. The other two percent is the time they have to dedicate to looking adorable so their parents don't drop them off at the nearest catholic church or Salvation Army.

More than kids/babies; I hate their parents. It's like once you have a kid the earth suddenly forgets about the sun and begins rotating around you. Yes, you mother of obnoxious one year old, are the sole reason that we still have gravity, warmth and light on this planet. You.

Now I have a niece, and she's pretty great. Also I love my sister so I feel like I should exempt them from this rant so that she will not kill me will know that I am not talking about her.

One of the things that gets on my nerves the most is when someone has a baby, and insists that you come "Ooh!" and "Ahhh!" over it. The only responce they usually get from me is "AGH!" See, babies do not like me just as much as I do not like them. They cry when I am within ten square feet of them. People tell me this is because they can sense that I do not like them. Smart little tykes. I try to warn parents, but they insist on me coming over and staring at their child anyway like the thing is a two cent freak show.

This is how it usually goes:

Annoying Mother: "Hey, Kara! haven't seen you in awhile! How are things?"
Me: "Well I've bee--"
Annoying Mother: "I had a baby!! Did you hear that I had a baby?!! Don't you just love babies?!!"
Me: "Well, actually I--"
Annoying Mother: "You should come see my adorable sweet baby who is loved by the whole world in my mind because I can't come to terms with the fact that something that ugly came out of my uterus!"
Me: "You know, I would but I tend to make babies cry when I go up to them. Me and babies, we don't get along very well so I'm going to respectfully decline..."
Annoying Mother: "Oh, my baby never cries. It'll be fine. She just loves everyone!"
Me: "Okay......."

And of course we walk up to the baby. Surprise! The baby starts bawling its eyes out!! The mother and father then turn to glare at me like I just single-handedly destroyed what is left of the rainforest.

*This is not a specific example. This has happened many times.

Dear mothers,
I do not want to look at your ugly child. I do not care that the condom broke and produced the great miracle of life. I do not care that you life is over so you have to pretend that you have discovered the greatest thing you've ever known. Please stop making me pretend also.
Kara Hoag