Archive for March, 2006

It’s Hater Tuesday

So as of late I have been running into a shitload of really unhelpful retail people. Let me begin by saying, I’ve worked retail. I know that shit sucks. People come in all the time and ask fucking retarded questions and generally act like assholes to “the help.” That is why I usually go out of my way not to be a nuisance and to help myself unless I really need something I absolutely cannont find. Oh and I am super fucking nice in restaurants too. I’ve also worked in that industry and there is nothing worse than a table full of dicks who change thier orders or demand unreasonable items or are think just because they are paying you as a waiter are supposed to turn into Mr. Benson.

This week’s edition of Hater Tuesday is dedicated to all the shitty retail help and waiters of the world. I hope you get fired. Soon.

Snobby Retail ‘Mo: In 3 out of 10 retail shops (of course in LA and SF that ratio moves up depending on the shopping area) there is one Snobby ‘Mo (yes I mean homo) who is convinced he is better than his minimum wage mall job and that your presence in “his” shop is unnecessary and a waste of his time. He usually rolls his eyes immediately upon your entrance and as soon as you touch something he releases a loud sigh that can be heard over CeCe Peniston’s wailing. You see he’s spent all day folding that sweater on the top of the pile you are touching and he is NOT going to fold it again. God forbid you decide to purchase something because then he is really going to be pissed off. He is mad for a few reasons: 1. He has to go all the way to the back of the store behind the counter where he cannot stare into the body of the mall and gawk at the dudes in the GNC kiosk. 2. Your choice of purchases are ugly and therefore a waste of his time. 3. Your boyfriend is crazy hot and you a female are with him thus keeping him from his gay clutches. 4. He actually has to work now.

Too Busy Being Plesant Not Enough Time Being Smart Guy: This is really a tragic individual. He’s so fucking nice. Like sugary sweet nice. But the buck stops there. He can’t do his job for shit. He will take your order, smile, exchange pleasantries but when the food comes that shit is wrong. Like you ordered a salad with poppy seed dressing on the side and he just brought you a cheesburger and fries wrong. When you tell him it’s wrong you feel like an asshole because he’s so fucking nice about it. That is until he comes back two minutes later and says, “So you wanted the tuna melt right?” Then you realize it doesn’t matter how fucking nice he is, dude is a retard and can barely hold a pen. You settle on a tuna melt even thought of mayonnaise makes you want to hort.

Silent Nervous Teen: My friend Dave White has written about the Teen help before so I know he will feel me on this. God bless a working teen. Lord knows I have respect for a young person with the drive and responsbility to get a job and do for self. However, if you are not capable of speaking to people that are not related to you, work on that first, then get a job. It is so frustrating to enter a retail shop, go to the counter, ask a question and just get stared at. Or worse mumbled at. When you ask them to repeat themselves or speak up you can see the terror in thier eyes. They whole “Don’t talk to strangers” mantra is still in the process of deprogramming. A simple exchange that should take about 4 minutes to transpire can be stung out into a 15 minute ordeal due largely in part to Nervous Teen’s inability to communicate or make change.

Ghetto Botch Wit A Job Her Baby Daddy Made Her Get: This is a love to hate type of thing. One of my favorite stories ever involves GBWAJHBDMHG, it was told to me by my dear friend Coach. It goes a little something like this, Coach goes into KFC to purchase a bucket of wings for a party he plans on attending. He is standing in line behind a gentleman who is placing an order for a large family style dinner bucket. The woman taking orders has long, long braids, extremely long nails and perfectly applied make up. She is using her knuckles to press the keys on the register so she keeps instructing the man to “Hold up” or “Slow down, dang” or to simply say “Whuuuuut?” The entire time she is looking over his shoulder or to the left of him or just right through him. She finally manages to get the order down in the register and then she asks him the cherry of a question, “Is that for here or to go?” The man visibly annoyed at the sheer amount of time it’s taken to place the order, looks around and then looks back at her and says “Um, what do you think? I’m here alone and I just ordered a family pack.” Without missing a beat, she flips her braids back, stares at her fingernails and says “I don’t know yo’ life…is that for here to go!” That my friends, is the essence of GBWAJHBDMHG. She does not give a fuck and she certainly does not know yo’ life…nor does she want to.


Look at this mutherfucker right here, he does not give a fuck. He don’t need no fucking t shirt. Sure he’s got one, it’s that grey/brown rag that’s wadded up in his fist. What’s really fucking important is that afro pick. Let’s be real, a mainey individual like this needs to maintain his fro. That shit is perfectly picked out and activated. And I do mean perfectly. He’s got the kung fu grip on that bitch just in case someone, like say that square ass pretending he’s in his “happy place” and not sitting next to a shirtless 300lb black man with a scarred belly, tries to get wise and snatch it from him. No one is taking this fool’s afro pick. No one. Now here is where it gets super fucking awesome. You will notice dude is putting something in his pocket. Take a moment, look at his hand. What you can’t see here but what absolutely and I swear on my grandfather’s grave that this shit went down – dude took a call. On a cell phone. A shiny ass Treo cell phone. That shit rang and rang and rang, then dude realized it was him, he pulled out a shiny ass Treo and answered in a deep voice “WORD.” It was at this point that I started scrambling for my own cellphone, struggling to pretend like I was “texting” so that I could snap a photo of dude on his Treo without getting my ass beat. No such luck. I missed the phone call by mere moments. Luckily I did get this picture. Moments later the mainiest man alive stepped off the train onto the platform and was gone. Oh and don’t worry because that IS an earpiece danling from his face and laying across his naked chest.

Everyone’s favorite baby’s daddy KFeds is back again. This time with a heater that’s “Only for the haters…” Thanks Kev…but really you shouldn’t have. No really, you shouldn’t have.

A few things for you to consider…

A. Fresno is NOT the Bay Area. Get off the Bay’s nuts. We do not claim you. We will never claim you.

B. That IS not YOUR beat.

C. You CANNOT rap. “Basically ya’ll talk like Bryant Gumble?” WTF does that mean?

D. “I love my kids mutherfucker….I love my wife too!” OH…WORD? Damn dog…that’s deep.

E. What the fuck is that tattoed on your arm?

Coffee Nazi on Muni Line 27: That’s right mutherfucker. I’m calling you out. You can disrepect me once but not twice. There is a young Muni driver who has a stick up his yonkey and won’t let anyone bring ANY food or drink onto his bus. Sure I know there is a sign that reads “No Food. No Drink” but we all know that does not apply to a cup of coffee or tea with a securely fastened lid. I mean really what harm is one cup of coffee gonna do? Huh? The thing that really bothers me is that this dude is really fucking rude about it. Like really rude. He doesn’t even look you in the eye. He just yells out “No!” and then points to the door. Or, he does the whole “Nah, nah, you can’t bring that in here” and looks really annoyed. This morning I wasn’t even paying attention, I had my coffee and a paper and my purse and a bagel in a bag in my hands boarding the bus flashing my fast pass when I look up, see him and hear, “OH HELL NO! YOU CAN’T WRAP A NEWSPAPER AROUND THAT AND PRETEND IT’S NOT THERE. GET OFF MY BUS” Yes ladies and gentleman, I got kicked off the bus for attempting to smuggle coffee on board. I immediately rolled my eyes and got off the bus. I was not in the mood to deal with Coffee Nazi. I walked to work instead. But let it be known I am not cool with being yelled at. Not cool at all.

Snow in SF:
One of my roaming Haters at Large, reported snow last weekend on the corner of 24th and Mission. Yes, snow. In the city. According to Big Max it was “pretty fuckin’ trippy, man.” His report was confirmed by another Hater at Large, Lelania when she posted the photos you see above. That’s snow people. Real live fucking snow. It concerns me for two reasons.
A. Um, this is the Bay Area. It is not supposed to snow here. Rain? Yes. Snow? No. I live here for the moderate climate and the rap music. If I have shitty climate all that is left is rap music. I love rap but the scene could fall apart at any moment and then what do I have? Shitty climate and shitty rap music? I’m not going out like that.
B. WHY IS IT FUCKING SNOWING? Shit is def fucked up in the world. I’m no hippy (anymore that is), shit just last week I got into a fight about recycling a used fork with my coworker. But I do think there is something to be said about taking notice of how our actions affect the global climate. I’m starting to regret all those cans of Aqua Net I used in middle school. Am I a part of this problem? Damn.
Moral of the story is. I don’t want it to snow anymore even though it was “totally fuckin’ trippy man.”

Fall Out Boy:Who told Fall Out Boy that it was okay to make another pointless mini movie type video this time rife with cliched 80′s references? I had the unfortunate pleasure of stumbling across the “Making Of” special on MTV for the new video “A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me” and all I could do was talk aloud to myself and wish I had a computer at home. I sort of wanted to live blog my reactions to this video because it confuses the shit outta me. This video is described by the band as “Kung-Fu Hustle meets The Warriors.” The concept alone is so played out it makes me want to line up these assholes and punch them each in the face once just for agreeing to it. It starts off all Lost Boys meets Thriller then goes into some of The Warriors then it slips randomly into West Side Story meets Clockwork Orange meets Dick Tracy meets Smooth Criminal. The entire time the viewer is left thinking “Uh dude? What is happening here? Why does everyone have a cell phone?” Then you rememeber that Fall Out Boy is a bunch of nerds who make cry baby faggot rock and the backbone of faggy rock music is a shitty pointless video paid for by corporate cellphone dollars. Yeah that’s right I said “faggy rock music” as in rock music made for and by fags. And don’t even try to be all “dont’ use that word…what about the gays!” because I asked a real live true homo who admittedly “fucks men in the ass” and he agreed with me.

In fact his exact words were:

AIM IM with Dave White
4:52 PM
Funkybiz: hey can i get your homo approval on something
dwhite: yes ma’am
Funkyybiz: is it okay if i say that Fall Out Boy makes cry baby faggot rock
dwhite: yes, cuz they fuckin do
dwhite: they suck 3-inch erections

Funkybiz: im going to say you gave me homo approval to say they are still nerds and no fancy ass video can hide the fact that they make faggot rock that is good for nothing more than sucking 3 inch erections to
dwhite: you can say a true homo that fucks men in the ass said that
Funkybiz: sweet. thanks dave.
4:55 PM

So there. It’s official. Fall Out Boy makes faggy music.


The honors this week go out to Flava Flav and Hoopz. I’m sorta pissed Flav chose Hoopz over New York but then again, New York is a crazy ass bitch and I’m pretty sure she woulda pulled a Fatal Attraction on ya boy. The reason Flav is Player of the Week is because he gave your girl Hoopz, a set of gold ones as his sign of commitment. GOLD ONES! Not just a lady grill either. A full top and bottom row. He made her put them in and said “SMILE FOR ME” The look on Hoopz’ face when she saw them was priceless. She was sorta scared yet she just went for it and snapped them into place. She was lisping and everything. I wonder if she knew what was up when the producers came in and were like “Um, we are going to need to make molds of your teeth now”