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Monday, November 29, 2010

Blog Love And A Thanksgiving Feast Of Bitchiness

I think that sufficient time has passed that I can tell you about my Thanksgiving without seeming like a serial killer in the making (which I might have been on that day. Hey, we're all allowed to be crazy once in awhile).

But first....

Blog Love!!!

Mustang Sally over at Functinal Kaos gave me some. And it made me smile. You should go check her out because her posts are hella funny and her photography will make you want to go buy a camera in hopes that you can be half as good as her some day. Check out the photos of the carnival. The last one in the post is my favorite.

This is what I received from her:

Thanks Mustang Sally!

Yeah. It totally has cupcakes on it. WITH sprinkles! And who the hell doesn't love cupcakes with sprinkles?

In the spirit of these things (awesome awards), I would like to pass this on to Mrs. Hyde at A Bitch Called Mom. I just started following her blog recently and love it! She is not afraid to talk about the side of motherhood that sucks ass (and the side that is the most hilarious). I really enjoy the bitchiness honesty in the voice she uses to describe those who step in and out of her life. Plus, she makes a hell of a cake judging by the pictures.

Now to talk about Thanksgiving. I got to work at five-thirty. Thank God, because there was a seat in that restaurant that really needed to be warmed by my ass for about an hour straight. I kept it to beer (mostly) before the shift, with the exception of a few shots of whiskey. The last one was not my idea. I gave in fairly (totally) easily, but it wasn't my idea.

I would like you to know that the only incident I had was knocking the basket of bev naps onto the floor. I am clumsy anyway so no one knew it was due to my Thanksgiving celebration right before work. Even if they did know, I doubt anyone working that night would have cared.

So I warmed a seat up, played hangman (the girl totally cheated), and drank a lot of diet pepsi. Finally, about an hour or so after I got there my first table was sat. The lady asked me if the turkey was prepared in the store that day, to which I replied, "...kind of..." She didn't get the turkey dinner. I didn't blame her.

We're going to blur the rest of the night together into a whirlwind of scattered tables, cigarette breaks, crappy tips, cigarette breaks, rude service on my part, and a few cigarette breaks. Seriously, I think I have cancer from that night alone.

Fast-forward to my last table. The kitchen closed at eight-thirty. A man and his wife came in and sat in my recently swept (I still had the broom in my hand. I had literally just finished) section at eight-twenty six (I'm not sure where the hyphen goes on that one. If someone would like to correct me it'd probably be a good idea because I don't like being wrong on those things).

I know there were a lot of parenthesis, so I'm going to say that again. Eight-thirty equals the magical time that I get to retreat to the back and put everything away. Eight-twenty six equals the time that Deuchy McDeucherson sat down at my immaculately clean table. I hate him.

This guy has the audacity (emphasize that word when you read this sentence) to make this joke:

"I just came in so late that you'd have to stay here later. Har-de-har-har." Add a leg slap for good measure (he didn't really leg slap but add one in your mind anyway because it'll make him look even more like a jackass and that will make me happy).

I mustered up a laugh after a few awkward seconds of staring him down, but I think I sounded like a wounded hyena.

Yeah, what a jerk, right?!

I pretty much ignored them for most of the time they were in there. You don't make jokes about the loss of my Thanksgiving to me on Thanksgiving. I will not want to talk to you.

Plus, I was eating my free Shmupplebees meal and planning out the fastest way to make myself drunk after work so I was busy.

And no, I didn't have the turkey dinner either. It looked nasty.


  1. Congrats on those awards! *clap clap* And you made it thru Thanksgiving! Hooray!!

  2. Kara-

    you go girl! i drank and smoked a bunchie on thursday too...but i ONLY drank in cheers to you...(as a side bar, i used to know a girl named kara cheers) cuz i gave up drinking for lent...

    you can use a hy-phen an-y-where...or i like to...but i like ~ even has pan-a-che...english was my major, but i make big sticks into little sticks for a living, so what do i know?

    shoulda whipped out a FYA on the douchy guy...or hit him with the broom, right up along his fat coulda blamed it on evilbruce..

    congrats you award gettin girl!!!


    bruce johnson jadip
    stupid stuff i see and hear

  3. Thank you Bruce. And I was kinda hoping that your evil twin could go drink all his beer 'cause he obviously is the kind of person that would not care if God killed a kitten.

  4. Aw, thank you soo much for the award! I'm a huge award whore, so thanks for pimping me out. And you know what's the best part? A cupcake that I didn't have to fucking bake! Brilliant!

    I hope you spit in that dude's food. Even if you didn't, I'm going to pretend you did for my own amusement.

  5. Mrs. Hyde,
    I'm sorry to disappoint you. I can't bring myself to spit in anything because then I am paranoid that I will have spit in my food the next time I go out to eat (server karma. It's real).
    BUT, I did give a lot of dirty looks and monotone dialogue. I pursed my lips too. And my eyes looked VERY disappointed in his decision to come eat there. I'm sure he got the point...


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