When You're Screwed, You're Screwed

I don't know about you guys, but this election season has about done me in. The scary harpy bitch and the crazy motherfucker are a lose-lose proposition. What the hell is an independent gal to do come November? I have never failed to cast a vote whether it was local, state, or national. I cannot let the Washington wackos break that streak! I can't remember a time when the political landscape was so bleak. It was bad enough from day one that all of the assholes from either direction couldn't stop the lies from falling out of their mouths, but here we are just a few short months to E-Day.  I cannot even bring myself to watch news of any kind on television, and the shit that passes as "journalism" on the internet is even worse. We have lost all civility in this country. Where did it go?  Well, I guess I better get back to my Netflix. Binge-watching "Lost" takes me back to simpler time.

Oh yeah, BTW, someone teach these Sanders folks  Economics 101. I don't think they get it. Nothing is ever FREE.

It's a Man's World, and that Man SUCKS BALLS

I've just about had it with my new boss. He's, for lack of a better term, an complete and utter dumb ass. And not just your typical, run of the mill dumb ass, but a fucking chauvinist dumb ass. If only I could relate to you the bullshit this ass crack has pulled in the 9 mos he's been my boss. Let's just put it this way: he does not like the ladies to ask questions or push back. I've been branded, along with the only other female employee he supervises as a "hysterical female."  He said that. Not to my face or hers, of course, but my damn desk is next to his office. I heard him say it clear as day. He didn't realize I was at my desk. And now he's a bit scared of me. That does not, however, preclude him from trying to get me to quit at every turn. So, I'm looking for a way out that means I can tell him (without anyone else in the vicinity) to go fuck himself. Seriously. I don't know how he got this job. Well, maybe I do because the shit show of a manager that hired him is basically the same. I'm not making this up, people. It's for reals. No less than 4 times has he prevented my female colleague and I from moving to another position. We both had to write something extra for our performance reviews because he cannot put together a sentence that is coherent or related to what we are reviewed on. His opinion of things keeps creeping in, you see. We've both been to HR. Shockingly, nothing has happened. Well, I should say that nothing POSITIVE has happened. So now, I'm stuck looking for a new job (my female colleague just took a job she didn't want to get away from this buffoon) while this piece of greasy shit does nothing but collect a paycheck and look for ways to fuck me over. I'm a semester and a half from finishing up everything but my dissertation. I can't really leave the area. And the area is small. I'm finally meeting with a staffing agency this week because two crappy part time jobs are infinitely better than working for this skid mark on the shorts of humanity. To top it all off, the company has been bought by bigger, badder corporate entity that has really made it all shits and giggles around here with oppressive policies and no communication on changes until the day they occur and must be enforced. But I digress. Just pray for me. Send some good mojo. I'm going to start on my voodoo doll for the asshat I'm stuck with currently. Seriously, I want to punch him in the crotch and stab him in the neck simultaneously. How did he get this fucking job? I'm at a loss.  Dickless wonders will never cease, I suppose. 

I Hate Politicians...

Greetings, friends! It's been too  long! I have a new set of ramblings (read: rants!) because it is an election season. I really dislike politicians. All of them. I don't believe any of them are worth a piece of hamster shit. What I really don't like right now though, is the inequity of the media coverage of the parties and potential candidates. First, no one can have watched the different debates and not seen a clear bias in how GOP and Dem candidates were treated. The questions, people, the questions. Fucking ridiculous. Now let me preface the posting of the following with this caveat: I am an Independent. I am not affiliated with Republishits or Democraps. What I do is my research. I have never made it a secret that I think Hillary Clinton is completely disingenous at every turn. At this point, in her fifties, I doubt she even knows how to take off the fake ass mask she puts on. Here is what I know: She makes bad decisions and lies. Now granted, you could say that about anyone and everyone who runs for office nowadays. However, I find her brand of lying very scary and insidious. Why? Well, I'm glad you asked: 

• When Bill Clinton was president, he allowed Hillary to assume authority over a health care reform. Even after threats and intimidation, she couldn't even get a vote in a democratic controlled congress. This fiasco cost the American taxpayers about $13 million in cost for studies, promotion, and other efforts.
• Then President Clinton gave Hillary authority over selecting a female attorney general. Her first two selections were Zoe Baird and Kimba Wood - both were forced to withdraw their names from consideration. Next she chose Janet Reno - husband Bill described her selection as "my worst mistake." Some may not remember that Reno made the decision to gas David Koresh and the Branch Davidian religious sect in Waco, Texas resulting in dozens of deaths of women and children.
• Husband Bill allowed Hillary to make recommendations for the head of the Civil Rights Commission. Lani Guanier was her selection. When a little probing led to the discovered of Ms. Guanier's radical views, her name had to be withdrawn from consideration.
• Apparently a slow learner, husband Bill allowed Hillary to make some more recommendations. She chose former law partners Web Hubbel for the Justice Department, Vince Foster for the White House staff, and William Kennedy for the Treasury Department. Her selections went well: Hubbel went to prison, Foster (presumably) committed suicide, and Kennedy was forced to resign.
• Many younger voters will have no knowledge of "Travelgate." Hillary wanted to award unfettered travel contracts to Clinton friend Harry Thompson - and the White House Travel Office refused to comply. She managed to have them reported to the FBI and fired. This ruined their reputations, cost them their jobs, and caused a thirty-six month investigation. Only one employee, Billy Dale was charged with a crime, and that of the enormous crime of mixing personal and White House funds. A jury acquitted him of any crime in less than two hours
• Still not convinced of her ineptness, Hillary was allowed to recommend a close Clinton friend, Craig Livingstone, for the position of Director of White House security. When Livingstone was investigated for the improper access of about 900 FBI files of Clinton enemies (Filegate) and the widespread use of drugs by White House staff, suddenly Hillary and the president denied even knowing Livingstone, and of course, denied knowledge of drug use in the White House. Following this debacle, the FBI closed its White House Liaison Office after more than thirty years of service to seven presidents.

Next, when women started coming forward with allegations of sexual harassment and rape by Bill Clinton, Hillary was put in charge of the scandal defense. Some of her more notable decisions in the debacle was:

• • She urged her husband not to settle the Paula Jones lawsuit. After the Starr investigation they settled with Ms. Jones.
• • She refused to release the Whitewater documents, which led to the appointment of Ken Starr as Special Prosecutor. After $80 million dollars of taxpayer money was spent, Starr's investigation led to Monica Lewinsky, which led to Bill lying about and later admitting his affairs.
• • Hillary's devious game plan resulted in Bill losing his license to practice law for lying under oath to a grand jury and then his subsequent impeachment by the House of Representatives.
• • Hillary avoided indictment for perjury and obstruction of justice during the Starr investigation by repeating, "I do not recall," "I have no recollection," and "I don't know" a total of 56 times while under oath.
• • After leaving the White House, Hillary was forced to return an estimated $200,000 in White House furniture, china, and artwork that she had stolen.
• What a swell party - ready for another four or eight year of this type low-life mess?

Now we are exposed to: the destruction of possibly incriminating emails while Hillary was Secretary of State and the "pay to play" schemes of the Clinton Foundation - we have no idea what shoe will fall next. But to her loyal fans - "what difference does it make?"

I'm very concerned that this woman might become our President because the media softballs her, and fanatical Democraps blindly follow her. 

But what do I know, right? 

I'm Still Here...

I am only enjoying my job most of the time. It's relatively easy, low stress, and I have a set schedule where, if I go over, they actually pay me for my time. Of course, there are some drawbacks as well. There seems to be this push to sell shit, and while I understand it, I fucking loathe having to sell anything. We also get one call a week recorded and scored at random by a department that uses "metrics" to give us some bullshit percentage to decide whether or not we get a bonus each month. Now, so far, I'm doing well with that piece of my "metrics". However, there is this one area that seems to count way too much when you don't have any kind of control over it: call backs. The way it works is that, if you were the last agent to speak to this person, and they call back for ANY reason within 7 days, then somehow that gets counted against you. It doesn't matter if it is a call for something completely different than when you solved their problem. It doesn't matter if they are on a stupid ass cell phone that drops the call  in the middle of the conversation requiring them to call back to get a resolution. You still get dinged. This really seems quite unfair, considering it's 40% of your overall score. The goal percentage is somewhere around 11.5%. Sassy is at 13%. Now technically, I'm still training. However, every time I am scheduled for "developmental coaching," metrics are always discussed. Generally, I'm receiving positive feedback and constructive criticism. I'm not averse to criticism at all. It's the only way to gauge progress and to improve. Plus, I'm grown. Some of the other idiot sacs that are in the group get pissed off every time they get any feedback they disagree with. As it is, I'm looking for a second job because this one really doesn't pay me enough right now to meet my financial obligations long term. My savings is taking a hit. There is the opportunity for OT, which I have scheduled for a couple of days this week. However, I'm not sure I want to work OT all the time. I guess I will if I have to, right? 

As for my classes, they are getting a little better. I'm doing well, so I can't complain...much. I have also made some pretty good new friends. Here's hoping a second job I can work part time comes along. I don't want to worry about money...it aggravates my insomnia. 

New Job, New Bitches

So having moved to Big Sky Country, I had to find a job to support myself while I'm going back to the money-sucking university to get another degree. I found said job in customer service at a well-known satellite television provider. Now, for the most part, I have enjoyed the first 5 weeks of training and have done very well. But as you know, my patience for bitches is next to nil. The training class I'm in currently is the largest they've had in quite a while at Satellite TV. In this class, I have found some entertaining and mainly awesome people that I get to hang out with outside of work (saving me from drinking bottle after bottle of wine by myself in my tiny little house in a city where I know next to no one). Unfortunately, the class is full of twenty-something idiots that have the "look at me! pay attention to me!" problem that most of this generation seem to have these days. The compulsive and fucking annoying need to comment on EVERY-FUCKING-THING is too much. I mean, the fact that they know next to nothing about life doesn't seem to dawn on them. Seriously. They suck all the energy out of the room and leave it devoid of any intelligence whatsoever. It's all I can take. Luckily, we have gone through all the classroom part of the training and are now on the phones. I thought this would mean I wouldn't have to deal with most of them. Wrong. On my "team" are two of these ball sacs. One can barely make it through a sentence without telling us about her eidetic memory and how awesome she is. So you can memorize shit quickly and effectively. Good for you. Unfortunately, you can't fake empathy or sound less than robotic when you speak to others. You are sad. Get over yourself. The second one has to argue with EVERYONE about EVERY damn thing. It really doesn't matter what it is or if he's wrong, he's gonna argue. The problem with this is that, between him arguing with whatever our team leader and job coaches say and the other one having a comment and letting us know how awesome she is, shit takes 10 times as long to get completed. This works my last nerve because, frankly, I don't give a damn what either of them has to say at this point. And the fact that they seem to think they are clever by repeating whatever I say with what they seem to think is a southern accent is getting tired. I've not said anything yet. I've kept my mouth shut and gone about my business. But holy hell, they are working my last nerve! So my advice to all the millennials out there: You are not as great as you think you are. Go tell your mom. You have yet to accomplish anything remotely grande enough to have the level of overconfidence you possess. So shut the fuck up already! Those of us that earned our confidence want to punch you in the face and the crotch. 

Hopefully, I'll find a better paying job in education once hiring season starts here for next school year. Otherwise, you might see my face on the news for going ape shit on two co-workers at a call center. I'm this close, people. 

Grizzly Adams Lives, and He Might Be A Serial Killer

So I arrived in Montana just over 2 1/2 weeks ago. It has snowed here and there, and I'm almost completely unpacked. Almost. Of course, ole Sassy can't go ANYWHERE without meeting "interesting" people. I have a disease, and it's called "one of those faces." Since I arrived in Big Sky Country just before the Christmas holidays, I was unable to schedule delivery of my washer/dryer until after Christmas. Thus, I had to go retro and take my dirty laundry to a local laundromat. 

Sparkle Laundry is not a bad place. They provide a TV room, lay out the day's paper, and even have a snack bar that will whip you up a mean cappuccino. Fuckin' A. Plus, they provide you with as many quarters as you want (bonus!) without looking annoyed when you ask for change. As I loaded a couple of washers, I noticed a rather large, hairy gentleman sitting at the snack bar. He didn't look homeless really, just a bit scraggly. He reminded me of Grizzly Adams from that old TV show.  After I got all my undies in the washers started, I decided I needed a diet Coke. The man at the snack bar was reading Nietzsche, so we had brief discussion on some of the common themes that I had knowledge about, and I quickly ascertained this guy was a 54 yr old career student. Scary. As I sat down to read the paper, Grizzly Adams decided to come and chat me up. Now, I don't want to sound like a snob, as I'm no such thing. However, he seemed a bit...well, off. Here is a snippet of our conversation:

GA: Well hello there! What's up, pretty lady?
SB: Um. Hello, how are you? (I am from the South, and bad manners are not tolerated!)
GA: Funny that you ask. Do you know how frustrating it is when your dehydrator isn't working? I'm completely out of jerky. (I shit you not, he said this!)
SB: Oh, I'm sorry. I guess you could just go buy some emergency jerky at the store though, right?
GA: Store jerky?! That stuff is full of chemicals, and I don't even think it's really what they say it is. It's dog. 
SB: Oh no! I don't think they could use dog to make jerky. There has to be some law against that. 
GA: Sweetheart, do you really think the government cares if we eat dog? They purposely put shit in our food to control us. (Ok, at this point, he's gone beyond eccentric in my book and totally on to being totally fucked up)

(At this point, I'm starting to get a little worried that he might either be carrying his firearm (or several) or a vial of anthrax. He's getting the friggin' bug eyes and starting to twitch. I began to wonder if maybe he might be high on something.)

SB: Uh, well...what do you put in your jerky? (Why? Why did I not just stop talking??!)
GA:  I usually use elk or deer. They make the best jerky. 
SB: So you are a hunter? My dad likes to hunt too.
GA: I only eat what I catch and kill myself. I won't let them control me. 
SB: Them? 
GA: Have you been listening to me? The fuckin' government! (with this statement he pounded his fist on the bar)
SB: Oh. Well, I don't think I could do that. I'm not much of a hunter. I don't necessarily have a moral objection to regulated hunting to control populations and as long as the animal is used for food, but I don't really believe sport hunting is right. And I am absolutely creeped out by the whole idea of taxidermy and hanging animal heads on walls. 
GA: (Smiles) I could take you hunting. I have a cabin just north of town. 
SB: Thanks all the same, but I don't want to be a hunter. Ever. I couldn't do it. I tried it before and just couldn't. I think my loads are ready to dry now. (start to get up)
GA: (Puts his hand on my shoulder as I am getting up) That's too bad. I think you would enjoy my cabin. (wink)
SB: Sorry, dude. Thanks anyway. I gotta get my laundry done, or my old man will beat the shit out of me. 

Okay, people, is that not totally serial killerishy? I kept cutting eyes at the soda jerk, but he was quite engrossed in his Nietzsche....or pretended to be. WTF? My skin crawled the entire last 45 min. I was there, and Grizzly Adams was a fucking starer! I finally took my last load out of the dryer early and got the hell out of there. I just hung up what wasn't quite dry once I got back home. Of course, I was completely paranoid about every noise I heard at night and couldn't sleep for the next 3 days. I slept with my friggin' gun under my pillow. I am definitely a weirdo magnet! I didn't even start the conversation. And the fact that the soda jerk didn't even twitch makes me even more uncomfortable because I fear this might be what passes as normal conversation in these parts. Holy shit! So now, everywhere I go, I'm on the look out for Grizzly Adams. Call me paranoid, but it's been two weeks, and I'm still completely creeped out by that conversation. If I don't write anything in a few days, call the police. I may be hanging on a meat hook in Grizzly's cabin just north of town awaiting my fileting so that he can make Sassy jerky. 

(Other than this incident, people have actually been pretty nice, and  you cannot beat the scenery. I even got a job tip from my satellite installer that panned out. Gainfully employed is good. Serial killer victim, not good.)

What's up with y'all?

Ain't Nuthin Gonna Break My Stride...

Well, well, well. I see that many of you, like myself, have been far too busy to blog. That's okay. I forgive you. And myself. I'm just that kinda gal. I return to you today with some epic news (okay, maybe not epic but still news) regarding my current living situation. After the Mayberry shakedown I received, I decided that I was taking a full 3-week vacation to sort the shit out in my brain. After a wonderful road trip that included Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, North and South Dakota, and Idaho, I decided to make a serious life change. So I applied to several doctoral programs. I got accepted to all of them. I chose the University of Montana. So yes, I'm joining John Mayer and escaping to beautiful Montana. Granted, I'm not going to Bozeman, but I could still blog a John Mayer douchebag sighting here and there. So after months of planning, I'm hitting the road and relocating in 3 weeks. I've secured housing for me and my remaining pups (I lost my Pug and Boston this summer due to old age), resigned effective December 31st (of course, I have numerous personal days that will allow me to leave in the aforementioned 3 weeks while still getting paid because the Head Shed never granted me a real vacation in the past 4 years), and I'm changing my life. Mid-life crisis, you ask? Perhaps. I just kicked the latest man to the curb, so I'm free to pursue any number of virile manly men that the state of Montana has to offer. Mostly though, I'm just relieved to leave. Who knows what will happen? What I do know is that these fuckers can kiss my ass as I walk the hell out. I'll even mark the spot for them. Of course, many people (even those whom I actually care about) have decided that I am crazy, stupid, or otherwise because I'm making such a drastic move. But then again, I've always done this kind of thing.  Sure, I could have stayed here, gotten another job (actually was offered several), eventually agreed to marry the latest BF, but I don't know that I would have been as happy as I am right now. There is nothing more exciting than a new adventure! Do I have a job? No, but I will. Do I know anyone? No, but I will. Plus, I will be Dr. Sassy soon enough with a little hard work and a lot of confession (goodbye, Father Glenn! woo hoo!). So be nice, bitches, and wish me well! Mayberry is soon to be in my rear view mirror! The best part? It was on my terms. Fuck you, Head Shed! I win!