Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber

Are alive and well...

I swear to all that is pure and holy, the average IQ of the average jacktwat I encounter on a frighteningly frequent basis is somewhere between a flatworm and a box of hair. It disturbs me greatly that such a large majority of the human race, we are at the mercy of in our daily lives, conduct themselves as adeptly as a dog with two dicks. This is scary. Pisses me off to high hell and scary. I shall illustrate for you now. Several fucking times.

I have tolerance for many things. Yes, it's true. Stop shaking your head at your screen. I do. Now stop laughing. There are pa-lenty of situations where I let the sphincter standing before me being a retarded tool flex and fart without batting an eye. I eat more shit sandwiches then fat Jared at Subway. But, it seems like there's something every damn day, and sometimes more than one something, and I for one think we who use more than .0135826% of our brains should revolt. With sharp sticks. For poking. Poking stupid people. Poke. Poke.

There are, of course, asinine situations that we can't do anything about and must wash down that crapadilla with a refreshing diet crap. It would be stupid to take that bait dangling before us, no matter how satisfying it would be to thrash it back-and-forth in our gnashing teeth until all that is left is a crimson wad. For instance, not that this is based on any kind of truth whatsoever because I love my job and don't want to get dooced so just indulge my totally fabricated (wink wink) example please.

Say you go to your awesome and highly intelligent boss with some real-life pressing issues, looking for advice and guidance. The most important being your health & welfare and the toll your soul-crushing commute and long hours are having on your less-than-perfect over-taxed system, worn-out body and questionable mental state.

Hoping that he'll...ah...she'll (ha ha, I don't have a male boss, noooooo) get the hint and perchance offer a reasonable compromise of maybe a few hours a week telecommuting since half of what you do can be done from home anyway and it's a proven fact that telecommuting saves companies money and for everyone's safety it might be better if I was self-contained away from the office. But all the brilliant micromanagers are too busy patting their own backs to implement that.

You pray that he, I mean, she thinks it's her idea because we all know that when you're dealing with a supervisor who's not the sharpest tool in the shed they have to be the originator of any great idea or it's shot down. In my case? Not f'ing likely.

My "hypothetical" dilemma was pondered for a moment, my boss looked at me with furrowed brow and concern, or was it constipation, I don't know, and started with a"hrm"...then suggested with a big bright smile that why don't I sell my house and move closer to work. Um, what? Sell my...WHAT? Are you seriously suggesting that I SELL my HOME and move? Into one of the top two highest priced areas in the entire city? Where my two bedroom condo would be the equivalent of a trash dumpster behind the local Starbucks and no free coffee? O.K. thanks! I'll get right on that! Moving is totally not stressful at all! That's a great idea! Idiot. (I totally said inside my own head as I smiled and chewed my torpooper).

Morons are everywhere. And I'm not just talking about those born with half a brain. I'm talking about lazy, useless nitwits that don't give a dink about doing anything the right way. Or they are blatantly trying to fuck you over and treating you like you're completely taking it wrong and you don't have the smarts or the cajones to keep up with their bullshit.

Take this stupid fender bender for instance. That dumb accident was 6 weeks ago and my insurance company has screwed up about 20 hundred times and have become completely pointless in the whole ordeal. Thanks for the back-up dicks!The other insurance company, of the kid that hit me, has tried to bend me over and force me to take it up the ying-yang about 50 times with a rusty fender. They lie, cheat and steal. I've gotten some letter or another from one of the two companies almost every day. And some days I'm extra lucky and I get 3! Woo hoo!

I've got claim #'s coming out of my ass, I've made 6 recorded statements. They decided that they'd only pay for 7 days of my 16 day rental car then the nastytude bitch had the balls to ask me why I had the rental car for that long. Oh, I don't know you stupid frothing cunt, because I wanted to drive a white non-discript Chrysler for more than 2 weeks instead of my OWN car. Or was it because it was not fixed yet you filthy puerile conniving ho-bag!

And now they've determined that I couldn't possibly have been hurt because their "accident reconstructionist" said so. Like I'm buying that one. This all causes my face to turn red and my butthole to twitch. It makes me so mad. So help me, I'd like to find one of these bastard scammers and ram them with my car until they proclaimed that I'm right and deserving and pretty and would write me a check from their own personal bank account with their bloodied fingers. But that would totally fuck up my new bumper and I'd have to put in another fucking claim!!

And as I briefly mentioned yesterday, my own personal health insurance woes are too gnarly to go in to. I'm past my eyeballs in debt and got some REALLY BIG bills on Monday. Bills I wasn't expecting. Bills that I'm not sure how I can pay for without selling a kidney and I can't even do that because mine is all defective from radiation (I had to take my organ donor sticker off of my license. How sad is that?). The thought of how much any impending treatments are going to cost me has me in a sincere panic. Like, I might have to sell my damn house to pay for this shit afterall. It's that bad. So, I hope there's a nugget of humor still leaking out of me because everything is as serious as a heart-attack right now and my panties are permanently twisted.

And we move on.

If you really think about it, these mental midgets aren't just working the drive-thru at Burger King where they forget your cheese and gyp you on the ice. They're in your payroll departments who don't bother to read your 2 sentence e-mail and hose up your paycheck that takes 4 weeks to fix. These botards are "repairing" our dishwashers, our cars, our airplanes. They're running our schools and passing laws.

They're the morons standing lazily behind the check-out counters in department stores and the health professionals casually mentioning that your scan was clean a week after telling you it wasn't then acting flustered and non-apologetic when corrected blaming the load of paperwork in their hands. They're ALL OVER THE ROADS.

I understand being overwhelmed. I get that our brains are not always going to work at maximum capacity. I sympathize that everyone has a weak area and an off day. The most brilliant and lovely man I know would lose his wallet if it wasn't attached to his butt with a chain. (Not that you heard that from me). And I've been known to spout some really ace things like walking into a library and telling the counter lady that I'm looking for "a book". Not my best moment, yo.

Intelligence doesn't necessarily equal self-awareness. But at least try to be cognizant of your surroundings and loosen up that tunnel vision. At least attempt to put a coherent string of thoughts together. I'm only asking for a marginal effort here. Not Ms. Perfect and Mr. Overenthusiastic. You know we all want to titty twist those people.

But sweet fancy Moses, use the four synapses managing to fire in your big dumb melon and think. And for the love of Jebus, quite being such an apathetic fuckface so those of us who aren't complete dumbasses don't have to do our jobs and all of yours. And then you just might avoid a hearty POKE. Cuz I'm seriously gonna get that stick.

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