Saturday, April 30, 2005

Prank Call Me

Apparently, everyone else is doing it, so join the club!

My phone number is...


Just kidding. :-)

So, I got out of the shower the other day, right? Perfectly normal practice, but as I was sitting at my computer, the phone rang no less than four times.


Ring, Ring. ;-)

"Hello?" I say the natural phrase.
"Yeah hi, is Bob there?" A woman's voice says on the other line.
"You know, Bob?"
"I'm sorry, you must have the wrong number,” I say, getting ready to hang up.
"No, this is the right number,” The woman says persistently.
"But, there isn't a Bob here..." I say, feeling like I just woke up. My brain was sluggish that day.
"Can you help me find him?"
"I just...I need to find Bob,” The girl says, and suddenly I hear some muffled sound and laughter.
"Who the hell ARE you?!" I say angrily, checking my E-Mail at the same time (I'm multi-tasking because I'm getting bored with the stupid phone calls).


About 3 seconds later...


"Hello?" I say, a little irritated.
"Yeah, is this Pizza Hut?" The same girl says. I can distinguish her voice now.
"Yeah, can I take your order?" I improvise, indifferent.


"Ma'am, are you wanting to order or not?" I say, pretending to sound highly irritated.
"Uhm, sure..." The girl says, trying to decide if I'm screwing with her or not.
"You want hand-tossed or thin-crust?" I ask, trying to sound like an actual employee. I had heard this spiel about a million times from other random pizza places, I had it memorized. What can I say, I'm in college! ;-)
"Thin...crust...” The girl says, a little uneasy.

"Can I have your phone number, ma'am?" I ask, smiling now.
"What, you don't like it?" I ask with spite in my voice.


Three seconds later...


"Yeah, put Mason on the line,” The same girl demands.
"Shut up there isn't a Mason here bitch,” I say, pretending to sound really pissed off.
"Yes there is, get her now," The girl says angrily as if I had just spoiled her day.
"F*$k off,” I say.


"You...don' me?" A small voice says, just as I'm about ready to slam the receiver down.

Now I have to cover the mouthpiece because I'm laughing so hard.

"GET THE F*^K AWAY FROM ME!!!" Someone suddenly screams into the receiver.
"DON'T EVER CALL ME AGAIN, F&%KER!!!" She yells into the receiver again, trying to anger me.
"What the f*^k girl, you called me, dolt!" I say calmly.


And, one more time...about 3 seconds later. This time I'm ready. I've got an idea formed...


"DON'T EVERY F*^KING CALL ME AGAIN BITCH!!!" I yell, ready to slam down the phone in a few seconds.

"...Jillian?" A voice says, making my blood run cold.

"Oh, hi mom..." I sigh, slamming my head against my desk about 17 times.

Sunday, April 24, 2005

Don't Get Mad, Get Even

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not a terribly mean person. Just don't upset me. :-)

I personally believe in Karma. You know, when someone does something really mean to you, that God will punish him or her and do something mean back.

I also feel that, at times, one has to 'help' Karma along. :-)

Either way, my story begins in the laundry room:

Normally, when one does laundry, one has to go to the basement of the dorm (at least, at my school this is how it is done). So, I put my laundry in washers, and came back upstairs.

There are many washers and dryers downstairs, but I figured I would be safe in guessing to leave my stuff down there to wash because surely no one would steal wet clothing, right?


So, after about 45 minutes in my room and re-making my bed (I washed my sheets, Der!), I decide to go back downstairs to put my stuff in the washer.

Unfortunately, not to my avail, I found my sheets and pillowcase on top of a dryer -- Outside of the washer that I had put it in. I picked up the lid of my former washer, and I found someone else's clothing be washed happily in the bubbly atmosphere.

My new Enemy.

"Hmmm..." I wonder loudly to myself, looking over at my shoulder at my now-drying sheets, sitting in a puddle on top of a dryer.

After properly fixing all of my clothing so that they were ALL in dryers, I look back at my former-washer, thinking.

What if I went ahead and helped Karma along? (As you recall in the beginning of my entry...)

I picked up the lid of my Enemy's washer, and take out his now-marinated-in-soap clothing. I wring them out, and stick them in the dryer right beside the one I was using. Making sure no one was looking, I then placed the lid of the washer back into it's proper place, and let the washer run it's course with no clothing in it.

About a minute after I had done this, the Enemy's washer went off, just after I had finished stuffing the rest of his soaking clothing into a dryer.

To top it off, I asked someone for a scrap of paper, and I wrote, "Returning the Favor" on it, and stuck it in the door of the dryer, so when the Enemy would have opened his dryer, the paper would fall out.

After that, I sat in front of my dryer (The one next to the Enemy's), and watched the scene unfold.

And I didn't have to wait long.

"What the hell?!" A male says, opening up my-previous-now-his washer. I look up sweetly from my book I had brought down, luckily. He takes a few glances around the room, eyes glaze over some girl talking on her cell phone, a nerd-man reading his Biology book, and rests upon me.

"You did it." He says quietly so that only he and I can hear.
"Excuse me?" I say, pretending to be mildly surprised.

"Where are my clothing??!" He yells suddenly, looking around the room in rage. Of course, this seems to be quite a feat for this short, short man. He seems to come only to my neckline, even after he inflated from being so angry.

The girl stops chattering abruptly, looking, wide-eyed, at the guy, and shakes her head. The dork-man looks up from his book, pushes his glasses back onto his nose, and shrugs.

I bat my eyes at him.

"Who stole my clothing?!" He yells more insistently.
"Could you keep it down?" Nerd-man snaps, frowning - Nerd-man clearly didn't hear what the Enemy had said.

I smile expectantly, holding the book up to my face, but still being able to peer around it to better see The Enemy.

"Once I find out who did this..." The Enemy says, but he seems to sink back to his normal height of three feet, even. Suddenly, he starts going to each of the dryers in turn, opening the door, finding out that his clothing aren't in there, and slamming it shut again. It doesn't take him long before he is right on top of me.

"Move it." He says, for I am sitting in front of THE dryer.
"Say please," I grumble, trying to sound irritated and moving out of the way anyways.

He pulls open the door of the dryer anddd...


"YOU DID THIS TO MY CLOTHING!!" He blows up at me. I can feel his steamy breath on my face. The note I had written to him flutters soundlessly to the floor. I follow it with my eyes, and The Enemy notices. He snatches up the note and reads it in about 3 seconds.

"You JERK!!!" He yells at me again. This time I scoot back my chair, as to be as far away from his face as humanly possible.

"Are you calling me a thief?" I shout back, standing up with gruff. I notice that I tower over the Enemy, and I allow myself a smirk.

Sensing trouble, an RA bustles over in record time.

"Now come on, we're both in college,” The RA says, and it just happened to be the Nerd-Boy who was reading his Biology book.

"Damn straight, but this BITCH TOOK MY CLOTHING AND PUT THEM IN A DRYER SOAKING WET!!!" The Enemy yells, his beady little eyes popping with outrage.
"I didn't,” I say, shrugging him off to the RA. The RA seems to be X-Raying me for a minute, trying to see if I'm telling the truth.
"Okay, so just start up the dryer,” The RA says, seeming to be satisfied that I didn't do anything to The Enemy's clothing. He goes back and sits down on the other side of the washers.

"What comes around goes around,” I mumble to The Enemy after the RA had retreated.
I smile and wink at him.

Then, he snapped.

"I'LL GET YOU...SON OF A F&%%ING BITCH!!!" He yells, his popping eyes swiveling madly in their sockets as he started on me.
"YOU DID IT FIRST ASSHOLE!" I scream at him as I get up and back away to the dryers on the opposite wall. I hold up my fists, ready to knock him dead. I watch as the RA gets up and runs to block his path as The Enemy advances on me...

At least, it would have been more entertaining if it had happened this way.

Instead, after I mumbled 'What comes around goes around' to The Enemy, he gripped his detergent so hard he poked a small hole in the side and spilled about 1/4 of it all over the floor. Then, the RA came over and promptly made him clean it up.

I even put my feet up for him. :-)

Although not as entertaining as if I would have gotten into a fistfight with this very short man, it still did the job for getting even.

And I don't think he needed Karma after I got through with him.

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Know Your Role as a Consumer

So, I thought that, since the cashiering and dealing with the public part of my life is almost officially over, I thought I would post a little something about the do's and don'ts to a cashier.

Tips for the Consumer (From a Former Cashier):

  1. As a consumer, you should remember that a cashier is not perfect. We make mistakes, and therefore you should always be forgiving and kindly to a cashier. Always smile and tell your friends that we are the best damn cashier you've ever had in your life. We know where you live.

  2. If you (the consumer) engages in conversation with the cashier and he or she does not respond within 5 seconds, just smile and walk away like you just received the best sex of your life.

  3. If you start a fight with a cashier, be prepared to be dragged outside by our security guards and beaten to death. Although harsh, I feel that this punishment is justified for some customers. :-)

  4. If you are snotty or rude to the cashier, please be prepared to have an unexplained charge fee of 175 dollars. Trust me, we are well-prepared to justify our actions.

  5. Do not act like you are an employee of this store and then ask for an employee discount. If you do, I will personally throw you into the crocodile pit in the back-room. What, didn't you know that we have a crocodile pit in the back?

  6. If you are a good citizen, you will be nice and courteous to me (the cashier). Smile and nod the whole time we are dealing with your transaction, and don't look impatient. After the transaction is completed, walk away like I just gave you best sex of your life.

  7. If you throw your credit card or school ID at me, be prepared to have a sur-charge of 50 dollars for an unknown reason. Again, we are always prepared to justify our actions.

  8. If your credit card is rejected, we try to be really nice when we tell you, but don't act surprised. Just give us another card smoothly and you'll be on your way. Do not make a scene. We know where you live. :-)

  9. Do not charge your bottle of soda and pack of gum to a credit card. I will call in the hound dogs which will drag you outside and chase you back to your home.

Hopefully these tips will make any future transactions that you have with a cashier flow more smoothly.

If not, never forget that we know where you live. ;-)

Friday, April 15, 2005

Turn Off the Alarm







I sit straight up in my bed, climb to the end of it, and slam my fist on top of my alarm, the beeping sound slowly fading from my mind.

At that exact moment, my roommate gets up, and also turns off her alarm.

But, it's not going off.

"Danielle...?" I say cautiously, remembering that she must have gotten in late last night because I went to bed late myself and I didn't hear her come in.

"'re not supposed to be up now..." I say slowly, remembering again that her class doesn't start for another couple of hours. She climbs out of bed, her eyes half-shut, and squints up at me.

"You serious?" Danielle says, walking over to her computer and moving her mouse so that it comes on.

"Um...yeah." I say, now climbing down my ladder to get a better view. Taking inventory while putting up my ladder (I have a loft bed), I notice that Danielle's bed is in disarray, as if she had been in a fight with it.

"What are you doing?" I ask Danielle loudly, hoping to inconspicously wake her up.

"I..." Danielle says, her eyes seem to come back to life. "I...don't know!"

"Ha ha, you were really going to get on your computer, weren't you?" I say, stiffling a yawn and turning on my computer simultaneously.
"I think I was!" Danielle says, laughing now that she's awake.

"I think that's a sign that you are on your computer to much..." I say, smiling as I turn to get ready for the shower.

"Naw..." Danielle says, climbing back into bed.

Within 5 minutes she's snoring softly again, sound asleep.

See what happens when one spends to much time on the computer? You sleepwalk to turn it on!! ;-)

Sunday, April 10, 2005

Talk With Bloggy!

Bloggy, being the first EVER automated Blogger-ROBOT, is also --

"Cute and Fuzzy!" he reminds us everyday via his blog.

In Bloggy's first-ever post, not only does he mention right away that he is cuddly, but he also fails to give us all the meaning of life.

I feel that a reprimand for this transgression is in order here.

In one of his posts a few days ago, the title of Bloggy's post was plain:

"Simple Thoughts".

In it, Bloggy wrote a one-sentence (as always) post.

"The sun is special!” - Bloggy: April 5, 2005

Oh, God.

And, as one faithful reader posted:

"Do you know that some ancient cultures 'sacrificed' members of their society to the sun? They thought the sun was pretty special too. Full of strange mystical powers.

Do you feel that we should sacrifice members of our society to the sun?"
- Anonymous

Not only did I have to change pants when I read this, but I was also eager to continue reading other's comments.

Don't be mean to Bloggy! ;-)

I think that not only Bloggy's Posts are funny, but the comments can be even funnier than Bloggy is.

And finally, I leave thee with words from another fellow commenter:

"I'm worried that my tax dollars are going to fund this."

Thursday, April 07, 2005

Dear Noteworthy College Student,


How can I put this without offending anyone?

You. Are. A. Dumbass.

But not just any regular dumbass, I can assure you. You are the Prime of Dumbasses. The King of Idiots. The Almighty of Morons. The Great...oh you get the picture.

While I was walking innocently through the quad, you are on a bicycle. Now, if my legs were made out of wheels then I would have been on a bicycle as well.

But that's not how it went.

Can you not see me?

You know, I definately think that you aren't even watching where you were going.

Maybe if you got some contacts or something you would have seen me before you sent myself and my bookbag flying.

You're sorry?

No, that's definately not going to cut it. Now my jeans are all muddy because it has been raining all day and all night, for almost six and a half days! (You won't understand this crack, but I forgive you.)

Are you going to pay for these jeans?

No, no you are not.

Are you going to come over and at least pick my bookbag out of the mud which is devouring it?

Oh, thanks.

No!! DON'T SET IT......!!!!!!!!!


You see why I call you a dumbass now?

Here let me explain this to you, the Most Incompetent Person on This Earth:

You picked up my bookbag. Are you with me so far? Have I lost anyone?

Okay, good.

Then, you brought it over to me, and placed it in my already mud-filled lap.

The bookbag fell out of my lap, and into the mud that I had been laying in.

Yeah, I'll just lay here while you pedal away, obliviously and stupidly happy that you had 'helped' me.

Thanks, Idiot.


Monday, April 04, 2005

Take a Nap

It's my turn next, and I'm nervous as hell.

I get up slowly from my seat near the front row in my Speech 110 class (Communications), and stride to the front of the classroom slowly, planning my every move.

Pretending I know Zen, I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm every nerve in my body that feels as if they are about to explode. My notecards are shaking in my hand, but I know that today is the day that I will finally get my speech over and done with.

This is it.

I start to speak, and all of a suddenly a girl flashes into my mind and she is laughing at me.

As I pull back to my senses, I realize that she is laughing at me here in this classroom as well. Her belly-shaking laughter is contagious, and soon the entire class is laughing at me. My face keeps getting a deeper shade of puce every minute that passes.

"Stop, please...stop laughing...what's wrong?" I say anxiously, staring around at everyone in the classroom.

Now there are flashing in my mind of people as I watch their faces go by, they are all laughing at me, and I haven't even started my speech at this time.

Now I'm getting mad.

"What's so funny?" I snap at a girl in the front row. She just continues to howl with laughter, tears running down her face at something so extremely entertaining that I am doing.

"Stop...STOP IT!!!" I yell at the top of my lungs, and these very words burst from my mouth. I sit straight up on the couch, staring around wildly.

Suddenly, I realize where I am.

I'm at the library -- on the sixth floor.

"Whoops." I say softly. Now everyone at the tables is staring at me. My chest is heaving like I had just run the mile in about 2 minutes. Suddenly, a girl gets up, and I jump a little.

"'s okay," She whispers, bending down to pick up my papers. I notice that I fell asleep with my books on my chest, and now they are spread out all over the floor.
"Was I snoring?" I say jokingly, trying to keep the conversation light while I also bend down to pick up papers. I realize that my face is all sweaty, and I quickly wipe it clean.
"No," She says, and I look up at other people around me; they are all watching me cautiously. "Just...turning and twisting a lot."
"You're okay now though, right?" She says anxiously, staring up at my face.
"What? Oh yeah, just fine thanks." I say, the girl's laughter from my dream still echoing in my mind.

I gather all of my books up and stuff them into my bookbag.

"Get back to work!" I say loud enough for the people to stop staring at me. The girl who helped me gave me a faint smile before going back to her table.

Note to Self: Don't go to sleep in the library. ;-)