Archive for February, 2006


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Verizon Wireless: I ordered a new cellphone last week on Valentine’s Day. That shit was supposed to arrive overnight. Why do I still not have my phone? I called those bitches 3 times last week, waited on hold for upwards of 30 minutes each time only to be told “We’ve been having some issues fulfilling all our orders due to an unprecidented response to our recent promotions.” Finally yesterday I get someone with a brain on the phone and they inform me that “There seems to be some problem with your credit card” to which I responded “IT’S A GOLD CARD BITCH! RUN THAT SHIT AGAIN” and lo and behold it was vaild. It’s a fucking gold card, no shit. Turns out the dipshits who enter the order data transposed some numbers and no one could get it together to holler at me to rectify the problem. So now a full week later I am waiting for my new shit. Meanwhile my phone continues to turn itself off mid phone call, call unsuspecting parties and generally act up when it needs to be doing it’s job. I’m not feeling the customer service right now. Not at all.

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Dog Stroller Bitches: This shit is real folks. I saw this bitch in Union Square about a month ago and completely lost it. Thank god my girl Jessica was with me to photograph it. I could barely keep it together long enough to ask permisson. The real disturbing shit is that this was NOT the first dog stroller I’ve seen in SF. In the last 2 months, I’ve seen 3 dog strollers and 3 dogs being carried in fucking baby Snugli. Seriously do we need fucking strollers for dogs? That’s obviously wack right? How insane/indifferent/dilusional do you have to be to rationalize pushing your fucking dog around in one of these things? It’s bad enough that there are dumb bitches refusing to make thier children walk around, now these bitches are refusing to let thier fucking dogs walk? A dog should be walked. Period. If your dog can’t handle a day out shopping, maybe you shouldn’t bring the fucking thing? All I know is I fucking dare one of these bitches to get in my way with a fucking dog stroller. I will not be shy about how I feel. I’ll give both of them a reason not to be walking.

Flying Stand By: Remember when motherfuckers were too fucking scared to fly after 911? Airports were a dream back then. Sure the security checkpoints were a bitch and carrying weed cross country was totally out of the question, but I never had a problem getting a seat on a plane. I flew twice last week and both trips were completely fucked. The most fucked trip was the flight I took out of Oakland on stand-by status. I spent 6 fucking hours waiting to get a seat on a flight that would have me in the air a grand total of 1 hour and 40 minutes. The return portion of that trip was equally fucked. America West had ya girl stranded mid-leg in the Pheonix airport just waiting to get on her flight back to the Bay. Let it be known that’s the main reason ya’ll didn’t get hate last week. The second trip I took was also delayed on both ends and I bought that ticket full price. So what I really want to know is where are all these mutherfuckers coming from? Why so many people flying now? How come these damn planes can’t keep to a mutherfucking schedule? A boss like myself has schedules to keep and I can’t have bitchmade Southwest or US Airways fucking up my couch like that.

Player of the Week:

Player of the Week goes to ol’ boy who bought my tits a drink in the Oakland airport last weekend. I think his name was Carlos. Poor Carlos was in his late 40s, early 50s and was bored as shit. His flight had been delayed for about as long as mine was so he was posted up in the bar drowning his stress in Hefewisen. I sat down next to him fucking livid after blowing up on the tiny female ticket agent who was the third person to tell me that I was not getting a seat on the third flight I was attempting to board. As I sat down and sighed, Carlos took a minute to ask “Delayed?” and then stared directly down my shirt and asked “Can I buy you a drink?” Bieng the cheap bitch that I am I said “Sure, that would be lovely” while thinking “Hell yeah beers are $7 and Jameson is $9…Did he just talk to my tits?” Carlos proceeded to tell me/us all about his failed marriage ( his wife left him for her boss, ouch!) and his three kids who he was en route to visit. Ol’ boy busted out cell phone and regular pictures for me to peep all the while he kept the booze flowing. He bought me and my boobs (he didn’t stop staring at them the whole time) 3 beers and topped it all off by throwing a 10 spot to the bartender so as to make sure “this pretty lady gets a shot of Patron in her.” Carlos completed my sleezy airport bar experience by asking to “take me out to see Modesto” sometime. Yes, Modesto. I felt so bad for mooching, I almost gave him my real phone number. Almost. Play on player, play on.

A special shot out goes to New York on Flava of Love. Ya girl dropped the gem of a quote this week, while blubbering about her true love for Flav she uttered, “I’m not gonna share my man with another girl….a big girl at that!” in reference to Goldie, who had won Flav’s affections for the night. To New York I say this… Never underestimate a big girl, she will snatch up yo’ man in a heart beat. Sometimes a man wants to sit back and let momma drive…and let’s face it little bitches always get lost.

btw if you are still sleeping on Flava of Love, let me give you a reason to tune the fuck in. New York is crazy as a mutherfucker and will cut a bitch…she’s definately grown on me. I still think she looks like Janice from Dr. Teeth’s Muppet Band tho…

LADIES AND GENTLEMAN…..

Today’s Hater Tuesday has been cancelled due to airport drama and the excessive workload at Funkbitch’s real job. Your regularly scheduled Hater Tuesday will resume later this week with a special “It’s Not Tuesday But I’ll Hate If I Want To” post. Oh and the new Mesh hits the streets of SF soon as well. So you can get your Hatert Tuesday fix there as well.

Until then you should do two things.

1. Watch the new Juvenile video “Hustle”
I normally don’t fuck wit Juve….but this shit is the knock.

2. Listen to some hot shit by Eddie K

Heed my words. Eddie K is the real shit. Thug E Fresh has been preaching this for years. It’s about time we all fucking listened. 88 is the truth. “Rockin’ Wit The Best” is my shiiiiiit. Gurpology 101 drops soon. Real soon. Don’t sleep blood.

So yeah…more later this week. If you got a problem with it, send a check. Ya girl needs to get paid.

Valentine’s Day on a Tuesday? Thank the Baby Jesus. Thank him twice.

I am no fan of Valentine’s Day. Yes, I’ve been in love. Yes, I understand the concept. However I also understand the whole thing is bullshit. The concept that if love is not expressed via a generic gift like chocolates, roses, balloons and fluffy pink teddy bears on this one day means that your lover must not really love you is ludicrous. Consider these things:

Oversappy Romantic Gifts and Gestures:
If you are not a man or woman who lends his or herself to grand displays of love why do it on Valentines Day? Should love not be expressed daily and uniquely? Certainly one’s love cannot be conveyed via red construction paper, glitter and lace doilies or by sending a fucking teddy bear trapped in a balloon surrounded by crinkly pink streamers and silk roses. Why drop hella paper on bullshit that is going to end up in a box marked “Exes” on someone’s shelf in the back part of the closet, right next to the box marked “Taxes 2004″?

Obligitory Expensive Dinners: I really feel for my male friends with needy ladies. These poor saps really get the shit end of the stick on VD. They are totally roped in and obligated to take out thier lady to a fancy ass pricey dinner if they want in any way to get tail they would normally get any other Tuesday. Fools have to dress up, act right, figure out what fork to use with the salad while simultaneously staring at that spoon just chillin’ there on top of the plate thinking to themselves “Now what the fuck is that here for.” The whole thing is topped off with a big fat bill cause you know she’s ordering hor’dorves, cocktails, entree, desert and coffee.

I’m-Going-To-Lay-You-Down-By-The-Fire-Guy: I’m going to keep this brief and to the point. If you haven’t laid her down good and plenty by this point. Tonight is NOT the night to do it. No one is saying you shouldn’t get some tail. That’s what on demand* is for. I’m just saying it’s not the night to lay down roses and break out the wax candles and get freaky with it. If it goes wrong (you just ate all that expensive ass rich tasting food, you smell me?) she will eternally remember it/you as that shitty Valentine’s lay. Don’t be that guy. Just don’t.

Middle-Aged-Happy-Valentine’s-Day-Lady:
It’s days like today that I am so glad I don’t work for a bloated company with an office full of bored old crones who just live for whatever holiday they can accesorize for. Valentine’s Day is like the Super Bowl for these bitches. In every office in America there is at least one woman who is wearing red tights or festive socks, some sort of cutesy sweater set with hearts or cupids or a whimsical conversational heart print vest. She’s carefully laid out all her special Valentine’s Day desktop toys like a wind-up heart wearing tennis shoes or a collection of trolls wearing boxers with heart and or cupid print. She probably bought herself flowers and came in early just to put them on her desk so everyone knows she’s loved. Even though the sad part is she probably lives with her 3 cats named Tuggles, Sox and Snowflake who do love her daily and uniquely. But old girl is too caught up with her festive socks to realize.

PLAYER(S) OF THE WEEK:

Hipsters
Here is my Valentine to you folks, my readers. I call it, “Fuck You and Your Girlpants”

I was at this terribly exclusive and hip party last night. There was free beer and cupcakes. I couldn’t say no. Anyhoo, these sorts of parties almost always fill me with rage but like I said, free beer and cupcakes. The people in these photos are shining examples of what I hate about SF hipsters. Fuck it hipsters in general. I saw each of these people individually at first. Then I realized that I was incredibly stupid for not realizing that they MUST have come together. A list of things that almost got each of them punched.

1. Deep 80′s part on Short Stuff. Fingerless gloves? Really? Still? Are you attempting Bike Messenger Chic? Um, is that an acid washed shirt?
2. White girl. Please stop doing every thing you are doing. What the fuck is going on with your hair? Why the unflattering bangs/mullet? Why pull your 12 strands of hair into the tiniest pony ever seen? Your purse is ugly and not ironically so. Tunics are so LES 2004. Also please see my rant on your gay ass boots circa Sept ’05. Loose them shits immediately.
3. White Boy 1: You look 12. Girl pants will NOT get you laid. Well maybe they will. You and bony booted tiny pony white girl can rub your pointy pelvises against each other until you spontaneously combust. Then we can be free of both of you.
4. White Boy 2 : Denim on denim is not cool. I don’t care how expensive the jacket was. That bandana is not helping you look any less douchey. In fact it’s doubled your douche factor. Also it is apparent you are “that guy who makes faces” because either a. you are wasted or b. you are uncomfortable with your face or c. you are a douche. I’m going to go with c.
5. I told these assholes they were going to be in Vice Dos. I crack myself up.

*On Demand: Like to the On Demand menu via Comcast, one of the redeeming things about a committed relationship is having “it” on demand. Credit to Thug E Fresh for coining this genius term.