Boner conspiracy!

Apparently, the same Boner’s BBQ that I was fascinated with a few months back, is under a ton of fire recently.  Mostly, due to the fact that the owner of the company took too personally, a negative review of their business on Yelp.  So he did what, well, nobody else has really done, as an actual business owner, and proceeded to go on the company’s Facebook page, post a picture of her (she’s fat, big surprise), tell her to go fuck herself, and to Yelp that, bitch.  Pretty much everything has been redacted at this point, and as of my typing this right now, is a whole lot of back-pedaling, damage control, superficial apologies, and naturally because this surfaced on the internet, a whole lot of people trumpeting superficial righteousness.

Firstly, I think that everyone who is condemning Boners is full of shit.  There’s a lot of fake righteousness and “that’s now how you run a business” rhetoric being flung around, because other people are watching.  Deep down, I have a hard time believing that anyone who has worked in the food-service industry at any point in their lives (which are most, hard-working, had jobs as teenagers), believes for a second that Boners is in the wrong for actually acting on impulse and anger and ripping this heifer a new asshole on the internet.  Not tipping is the worst thing a customer can do to an establishment, because someone ends up getting boned in the end (no pun intended), and pretty much everyone who’s ever worked food service has been stiffed somewhere down the line.  To these people trumpeting condemnation and wishing for the business to go under, I say you are all either full of shit, or have never worked in the food service industry before and should also go fuck yourselves for being too spoiled to have to.

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Regardless of what you’ve been told, there IS an expiration date

Again, that is. Apparently, for the second time in the last eight years, Hostess is going bankrupt. Not that I eat them with any regularity, but such news makes me want to run out to Publix during lunch and pick up some Ho-Hos and some Twinkies while I still can, if the company really does go under.

But really, the point of posting this at all, is so I could make the very obvious, but always relevant Zombieland reference.

Racism lol

And it’s not even February yet, geez.

And people have the audacity to be critical towards me for finding sadistic enjoyment in racist humor.  At least I don’t go deliberately trying to spread my jaded perspective of the world onto children in a classroom environment:

The question was a word problem that said, “Each tree had 56 oranges. If eight slaves pick them equally, then how much would each slave pick?”

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I like coffee, if you haven’t heard

This is my actual desk at work right now.  I have not been working at this place for just 56 days, it’s certainly been much longer.  I used to have a different cup sculpture up, but it was during a time in which I would get a size of coffee depending on how much caffeine I needed.  But then I realized that I could just get a small coffee, and go back for as many refills I needed, if any at all.  Plus, I’m a stickler for symmetry, so I started this when I started just getting smalls on a regular basis.  Naturally, this is interrupted by weekends, and on rare occasions where I use a coupon or something, and get the biggest size they have.  And I do not accept the cups of others, there are all cups that I emptied myself.

I have a disturbing feeling that the winter holiday red cups will cease to be used at an inopportune time which will necessitate a reconfiguration in order to maintain a symmetrical appearance.  But whatever, the show must go on.

Things I would tweet if I did Twitter

If people spoke in the manner in which they typed, then 70% people on the internet probably sound like retards.

The mark of good text communication is the conveyance of voice.

Taking the middle urinal out of three urinals is always a dick move.

I wish more things were punishable by immediate death.

It would be awesome if remote-controlled retractable spike strips, existed to put on my far-off, preferred parking space.