You know

what I don't like? I don't like being hired for a sales position that is wrapped passive aggressively in the title 'customer service.'

I don't like being jacked off by my employer when they have a product upgrade contest to promote On the Job Joy, when what it really is, is an aggressive management tool to make me sit at my desk and SELL! SELL!SELL! I don't fucking like it!

I don't like being told that this is not a sales position and then being frowned upon if my sales are low.

I don't like being tricked by this motherfucking organization that sold me on a mission statement or Team Vision- gack!(a highly overused buzz word- like buzz word) that states that..." _______ company will be recognized as one of the best-managed businesses to work for in..."

Are you fucking kidding me? This company that doesn't pay for your lunch break, pays just over minimum wage, tells you that taking breaks through out the day (as in a coffee) is okay... but, not really suggested. Because the rule book tells them that they don't hafta give breaks, they don't- This is going to be the best-managed company? By the by, using inter office sales contests is not a team building exercise- it's bribery!

They promote the idea that the customer service (pft-ha) reps are empowered (another gack) but also watch their phone stats like big brother on steroids.

All of this with a friendly smile on their faces, as if they are doing me a favor.

The biggest piss off here? That I fell for this shit. That kind of shit that you just get a whiff of every now and then. Like the guy that sharted in his under-roos and walks by you quickly; that's what this company smells like.

Under-roo shart! All super hero on the outside and stink shit on the inside.

I know it could be worse.Unfortunately, that Mary Sunshine spin on things is not air freshener enough for this joint.

They're just lucky I like the other suckers they hired, and that I have made a decision, for now, to be a responsible starving artist.



A final note, I wouldn't be writing this shit if they told me I was going to be working for a company that favors the underhanded aggreseive sales technique in the first place.



Cards on the table people.

Dear Valued Customer,

SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP!

Yes, it is true that I work in customer service to put my self through this thing called life, and school, and children, and responsible starving artistdum. Yes, I get paid to take your calls, your orders, and to assist you in general. But, perhaps the confusion comes in how much I get I paid. Maybe, you think I get paid like FUCKING OPRAH to take your shit. Maybe, you think I get PAID ENOUGH to take your fucking princess bitchass BULLSHIT. But, I don't- didyagetthat?

I don't get paid enough to be the one person you get to look and talk down to 'cause your on the phone. You and I both know that you would NEVER talk to me like that face to face. We also both know that you are such a little fuck of a person, such a loser on the ladder of life, that the only person you can feel better than is the poor fucking sap that has to take your call and make like their kissing your ass. Ya, you like that- don'tcha? You want me to stick my finger up there too, while I'm there rimming you? Bitch.

You know what, except for this little cuntface to 'out' your little measly existence- I forget about you as soon as I have hung up the phone and thought of ways I can fuck up your account- put messages on your file that label you as difficult. I make sure you don't get offered coupons. Cause your a BITCH, AN ASSHOLE, A CUSTOMER SERVICE WHORE. Only you don't get paid to do this shit. You have to pay ME to talk that way, because, you will remember- "[You] pay my wages!"

Yeah... that's right stupid whore. You pay my wages. My favorites are the ones living off the government that call in and say they pay MY wage..... LICK. MY. CUNT, THEN- MY ASS. get a fucking job like me- and then we'll talk. Alright, sweetie?

That's great.... is there anything else I can do for you? No? Alright then, you have a great day. Thanks for calling CUNTFACE.

A real Cunt Face can bitch about anything...

I am starting to not feel alone in this world. I am sure you must know by now but I am truly the biggest bitch in the world. I wear that crown with pride! Not everyone can be the biggest bitch in the world though there can be variations (prettiest, ugliest, funniest, meanest, happiest, saddest, etc).
It makes me happy to be able to find any topic and somehow manager to squeak out a bitch or two. So here we go:
Work-- Wilbur is about to get shanked, skinned and BBQ'd. I hate that fat motherfucker. He assumes that I am a slut, a drug addict and a bitch. Well I am one of those things and could be another (which ones???) but he doesn't know me well enough to comment on the shit I say. I am not even talking to Mr. BO but he manages to put his 2 cents in where it isn't wanted. I do say to him, "Shut the fuck up, ass. I have smoked weed once. Just b/c I know about Ice doesn't mean I do it. You know about sex. That doesn't mean you do it." He SO shouldn't be in a room full of girls. It isn't working out.
Home-- If that cocksuking ass of mine doesn't start yelling at our kids more than I am going to castrate him with my teeth and spit his balls in his face. I cannot handle being the only disciplinarian. I mean I can and did for several months, hell years if you are counting, but seriously. I am taking 15 hours and working full time. My mind is maxed out for the moment. If he wants to keep up the magical sex we have been having he better start whipping some ass!
School-- Speaking of shanking, that short piece of shit teaching my Humanities class better watch his back. That b+ I got on the last paper was the final straw. He is in my sights and I am about to put a cap in his bald-headed ass.
Food-- I love food. If I could hygienically mix food in with sex I would be too big to move. I am bitching that fat isn't in. Doesn't it mean good times? I am really trying to justify why I can eat like I have been since my dick has been back home. We are gaining weight and will soon look like Wilbur. That man hasn't seen his balls in years and years. Doesn't he miss them?
I am out of steam. I mean, if this was a live chat I am sure that I could bitch forever but I am out of fuel and am pretty happy right now. I was fucked well about half an hour ago. I really think I held on to C all of these years b/c that man can eat p**** like no one else. If he were paralyzed I would keep him (if for no other reason than) because his tongue is *magic*! I am not bitching there. In fact he probably does because I am a lazy bitch in bed just laying there letting him please me. It rocks. Smile.

Pay me

I’m tired of my boyfriend acting like when he cleans the apartment, he becomes a god and should be praised. Whatever.

I don’t like to clean. It just happens to be something I don’t like to do so I don’t do. What I do like to do is go to work and make money, so I take care of the finance stuff.

For a while I was considering getting a person to come in and clean once a month to give the apartment an industrial cleaning.

My Boyfriend didn’t like the idea of a cleaning lady but instead suggested that he would clean, and get this, that I should pay him the money I was going to pay the cleaning lady.
The dirt that he cleans up is his and mine, why would I pay him to clean his dirt?

Am I crazy? Does this make some sort of sense in some bizzaro world filled with square faced people who speak in the third person and can't conjugate verbs?
I thought this was supposed to be about SHARING the duties, not “pay me and I’ll do it.”
I’d rather pay the cleaning lady.
She won’t bitch at me later or ask me where her belt is or try to get me to suck her dick.

Holy Hell, it froze over in 93 degree weather

So tomorrow I am off to hell to support C in the DWI transfer case. I hate buying sunglasses b/c I hate the way I look in them. Since I am traveling incognito then I have to have really large, almost stalker sunglasses. I bought them at Target, or Targhetto (depending on the one you visit) for only $9.99. Best $10 I will have spent. I hate the fuckers at the place I am visiting. Not all of them mind you but most. If you were wondering hell is technically BFE (or bummed fucking Egypt). It is 65 miles to the nearest Walmart or Taco Bell. Who can live like that???
Also, at work today,Wibur (yes, like the pig) only burped 7 times with earth shaking force. I suppose he is dieting or the heat is getting to him. Oh, I did have to smell him again today but not as bad. Again, the suspicions of a diet are firmly in place. He is back to wearing that orange shirt that really doesn't do much for his eyes.
Other than that we be cool. I will fill you in on the details of hell in 2 days. I hope that I don't lose my mind while out there. We have 9 hours of driving there and 9 back in 2 days. Fun times with three kids and a chain smoking addict! Yes.
I am formally Married to My Ex but my friends call me Married to My Ex (or stepbackjack as my gmail account will tell you).