Oops, wrong title.
I mistook her for a buck-toothed cow.

Ever seen an ass up close?
Co-workers often resemble asses. Have you noticed?
Usually female, blonde, a bit long in the tooth and stoopid. Have to whack ‘em across the forehead with a two-by-four to get their attention, and they’re mean as hell.

She doth remind me of the “Princess and The Teeth”.

ONCE upon a time there was a prince who wanted to marry an ass; but she would have to be a real ass. He looked all over the world to find one, but nowhere could he get what he wanted. There were asses enough, but it was difficult to find out whether they were real ones. There was always something about them that was not as it should be. So he came home again and was sad, for he would have liked very much to have a real ass.
One evening a terrible storm came on; there was thunder and lightning, and the rain poured down in torrents. Suddenly a knocking was heard at the city gate, and the old king went to open it.
It was an ass standing out there in front of the gate. But, good gracious, what a sight the rain and the wind had made her look! The water ran down from her hair and clothes; it ran down into the toes of her shoes and out again at the heels. And yet she said that she was a real ass.
“Well, we’ll soon find that out,” thought the old queen. But she said nothing, went into the bedroom, took all the bedding off the bedstead, and laid huge teeth on the bottom; then she took twenty mattresses and laid them on the teeth, and then twenty eider-down beds on top of the mattresses.
On this the ass had to lie all night. In the morning she was asked how she had slept.
“Oh, very badly!” said she. “I have scarcely closed my eyes all night. Heaven only knows what was in the bed, but I was lying on something hard, so that I am black and blue all over my body. It’s horrible!”
Now they knew that she was a real ass because she had felt the teeth right through the twenty mattresses and the twenty eider-down beds.
Nobody but a real ass could be as sensitive as that.
So the prince took her for his Royal Ass, for now he knew that he had a real ass; and the teeth were put in the museum, where they may still be seen, if no one has stolen them.

(Dedicated to Bildo, who puts up with the toothy Royal Ass on a daily basis.)

Sheesh.

The interviews began the 24th and ran through today. Twelve of ‘em. All different, all unique . I finally narrowed it down to two good candidates to be second-interviewed on May 9th. Bring ‘em on, I say. I’m so tired I could drop. Most of them were younger females looking for a career change. I guess a change from Taco Bell or Mickey D’s would be positive for anyone, though.
Out of them all, other than the two I chose, two others stood apart from the crowd. One was a mighty brawny lad of 25 who resembled a Sumo wrestler who’s forte’ was “goin’ out to their house and gettin’ the money”. I think he had an IQ of say, 12.
He likes to “hunt an’ fish, an’ go muddin’.”
The other was a young lady who was personable enough, but after I’d listened to her say for the tenth time she “would love to work for our extinguished company”, I filed her resume’ in the appropriate spot as well.

Tomorrow is May 1st and the rest of the week will be sheer hell, so if you don’t hear from me by Sunday, call the undertaker.
Please send donations in lieu of flowers.
Bildo says it costs a lot of money to have someone stuffed and mounted.

1. Are you a thief?
2. Do you have a functioning brian brain?
3. Do you require more than 40 hours per work week personal time off?
4. How often must your significant other report to his/her parole/probation officer? Do they have their own transportation, or must you drive him/her?
5. Are you capable of staying awake?
6. Are you punctual? By this I mean are you prepared to be here by noon, at the very least?
7. Are you taking your children’s ADHD drugs yourself?
8. Do you and your cell phone have an on-going love affair?
9. If you smoke, are you prepared to limit your smoke breaks to say… 10 a day?
10. I’m the friggin’ boss……
Ya dig??

Since I haven’t regaled anyone with a tale of woe since September, I think now’s a fine time.

What would you do if you discovered your employee couldn’t tell your purse/wallet from hers?
Would you think you were becoming senile and couldn’t remember whether or not you lost that 50 bucks or maybe mislaid it? Would you dare to think she wouldn’t steal your money; even if it was only three dollars? Would you be laying a trap for her by leaving your purse in a precarious position and make sure she found the half-opened side zipper just so you could catch her in the act?

Would you begrudge her all the money you personally put in the company till just to make sure you weren’t short for the day when you were sure it wasn’t really your fault?

She loves ex cons. Lives with them for a month or two. She truly doesn’t know who the father of her second child is. I’m happy she didn’t have a litter.

Any road.. she had a choice.

Leave quietly or face prosecution.

I’m free of the horseshit, and my parting shot is

In my quest to make it through this life with some modicum of humor and sanity, I look for the little things that make me smile. On the rare occasion that happens (especially now that I’ll soon be working six days a week), I run across something that makes me shoot the nectar of bliss (beer) out my nose.

Is it a:

Dremel attachment for those hard-to-get-to areas?
Little blue nose picker for the person who has everything?
Pickachu automatic Tampax remover for those days when you have that not-so-fresh feeling?

Imagine my complete surprise when I read a bit further and realized boy, was I ever wrong.

Well, all you other people may use it for its intended purpose, but I’ve just ordered one to use on that brat who works in my office.
Instead of cracking the whip and screaming, “Mush!”, all I have to do now is poke her in her lazy ass and hope the batteries hold out.

I’m madder than a mashed cat.

Details to follow.

Edit:

Happy to report “church” was held, hell-fire and brimstone ensued, and all for the moment is well. :P

If I hear one more time, in any form, that being a stay-at-home parent puts more pressure and stress on my family than it does good, I will puke fire.  I get told all the time that my children will suffer severe social suicide if I don’t put them into an environment where they are around more children.  Or who is going to teach them the things they need to know before going to school?  I agree that school is where the teaching continues…not where it begins.  I also know that I am far from an idiot.  Therefore, what is wrong with my teaching, since it will my household they are raised in…which means my rules.  I know another fact to be that children that are in daycare get sick twice as much, if not, more than children that are not.  I understand that for some parents to make it, they must utilize the tools given to them, such as daycare.  I do not push my beliefs on anyone about this topic, so I would appreciate others with beliefs to the contrary not push theirs upon me.  So, consider this an open letter to all the parents who say those discriminating things just because you are jealous that I get to nourish and enrich my child’s mind with knowledge, manners, and love each and every day. It is a tough road, any mother will tell you that.  If I were lazy, I would not have chosen to have children.  I feel that a higher power blessed me with two children to raise to be productive members of a continuously harsh, brutal world.  I know not only will my children need to be prepared with mathematics and grammar, but survival and social skills when they journey out away from the nest.  That is why I shall not allow some overweight, redneck heifer to throw books at my kid whilst she screams across the room.  I have taken the tours of these places, and I shall place a bet that the large and in charge big Bertha at the daycare center doesn’t take the time to explain why he should not do the things she is screaming at him for.  And, I bet she doesn’t get paid with the slobbery kisses and sticky hugs that I do.
Stay-at-home moms don’t bring home a paycheck per say, but Dr. Phil quoted on his show today that an engineer that he had spoken to said “A stay-at-home parent has the equivalent of TWO full-time jobs.”  Now, that takes skill, patience, and dedication.  Here is some reading for the ones out there who think that us stay-at-home parents are short-changing our families.  Do your homework before you make statements that will make you appear not as intelligent as my 3 year-old.

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,194881,00.html

My family and I applied about 7 months ago for a federal grant for a weatherization program. This program is designed for energy conservation. The gentleman that came to my home today was there to inspect the home to see where we might be losing energy and thus causing our utility bills to be expensive. He went through my house with a fine tooth comb, looking at the attic, the basement, and everything in between. I would like to share with you some of the wonderful tips he provided me with. (He was very informative.)

1. Only 20% of homes built before 1980 are/were insulated well.

2. If you are going to add insulation, spend most of your insulation budget filling the walls and the attic, then around the windows and doors. Insulating the open air underneath your home, provided it is only crawlspace, is handy, but unless you reside in a very warm climate, is low on the priority list. Heat rises, therefore, it is not going to sink and escape.

3. Ventilation is key in reducing your cooling costs during the hotter months. Warm air and cool air cannot occupy the same space at the same time. So, the warm air must be expelled for cool air to effectively chill your living space. Range hood exhaust fans, bathroom exhaust fans, as well as attic fans should be installed to create proper expulsion of moist, warm air. Heat+moisture=mold and mildew.

4. The duct work in your home is vital to keeping it warm in the colder months and cool in the warmer months. If there are leaks present, you are spending a huge amount making the attic or lower crawlspace comfortable for all the spiders and creepy crawlies that take up residence there.

5. Super-Savers: 10% of your energy bills can be saved by caulking or sealing around all windows, doors, and seams. 10% can also be put back in your pocket by shading your air conditioning unit outside. Shaded units work way more efficiently than ones that must work in the sun all day. Another 10% can be chopped off using a programmable thermostat.

6. Double paned windows reduce heat loss by 20%-50%.

7. Replacing 25% of the lights in areas where heavy lighting is needed most will reduce your lighting energy costs by 50%.

These tips will not only put money back in your wallet, but also help to keep our environment healthy.

I swore when I left the hell-hole I would never look for employment in the finance field again, but upon seeking gainful employment for the past two weeks, it’s become increasingly apparent to me that in the grand scheme of things that this is what I do best.

This is a very depressed area, with most folks around this section of the city collecting welfare, food stamps, and Social Security disability benefits, so in my field of expertise, there are many, many businesses that cater to this particular group of people.

When I call these businesses to inquire as to whether or not they’re hiring, that for the most part they say they’re taking applications, but once I arrived in all sixteen places, they took one of the 16 resumes and I’m told, “We aren’t hiring right now, but I’ll fax your resume to the home office.” I never get to the application unless I ask for one. It’s difficult too, for me not to notice that most of these females are in their 20’s and 30’s, dressed like they’re going either to a barn dance or a rave, and hold managerial positions.
Please, someone help me out here. What in the hell is wrong with this picture?

I did have a call-back from an online application from a huge call-center from an East Indian type fellow who said they’d love to set up an interview for Friday. He asked me if I were using Microsoft Word and Microsoft Excel if I knew how to switch programs. Woah! Be still my heart!
Not to be daunted by a little condescension, I said I would be happy to be there at 9 AM; and would of course arrive fifteen minutes early, as requested.
Little more than two hours later, another East Indian fellow called to confirm I would indeed be there at the appointed time and place, and could I also confirm that none of the information I had given had changed since my last conversation with the other representative of their company.
I wanted to tell him I’d moved three times since then, changed my phone number more often than my underwear, and given birth six times.

Yesterday I stopped in the grocery to buy a six pack of soda. I had no Bi-Lo discount card with me, so the cashier offered to get an application for me. In the meantime, she did offer another card to use until mine arrives in the mail. Cute little thing I can put on my keyring.

Bi-Lo for Seniors.

As an extra bonus, I have a birthday coming up in just 11 more days.

Perhaps I should pick out my shroud now.

I finally bit the bullet and advised the powers that be to shove their job up their proverbial chocolate whizways last Monday. In good conscience I could not make the effort to earn the scum-sucking bottom feeders another dime toward their blood-sucking enterprise that preys on the misfortune of others. I’m free as a bird, albeit a poor one, but the release was so great and satisfying that I’ll just do a Scarlett O’Hara and do a fiddle dee dee, I’ll worry about that tomorrow number.
It wasn’t a hard choice to make, really. I was being pushed out of a job I intended to retire from when the time came by the Little Big Boss who’s stuck up the Big Boss’ derrière so far he hasn’t been able to blow his nose in months.
Being a mature woman means so little to those in corporate America. Having common sense means nothing as well. I’m not a dumbass, and will not be pushed around by a snotty little snake thirty years my junior whose sole purpose in life is to climb a corporate ladder and beat his feminine little chest while he goes on and on about the new Disney On Ice.

I expect to be beating the streets for gainful employment this week, but in the meantime, I must color my grey hair, lift my wrinkles, buy a new bra and bring my stilettos and fishnets out of retirement.

This time around I’m going for the big time.