I don't have friggatrishtkaidekaphobia (it‘s a real thing- look it up). I mean, if I was (for some reason) at a summer camp, a teenager, drug user, drunk, and screwing anything that moved- I might be worried. Also, my teenaged years would've been a lot more interesting. Oh, I’d also be in Australia, or somewhere else in the southern hemisphere (since it‘s winter time here).
Ooh- imagine Mrs. Voorhees as the Meryl Streep character in “A Cry in the Dark”- she’d be all revenge motivated and slaughtering dingoes while chastising them for “eating her babies.” But I digress.
Anyway, Friday the 13th. If you happen to find yourself at Camp Crystal Lake, it'd be wise not to fornicate, use drugs or drink. In fact, what the HELL are you doing at Camp Crystal Lake?!? Have you been in a pop-culture vacuum for 35 fucking years??? Even I'm not that out of touch. Get in your car IMMEDIATELY and get the hell out of there!
Nope. No friggatrishtkaidekaphobia here at all.
One my "insider" emails from one of my credit cards that has info on presales for concerts and events. One of the featured items is the presale for the Van Halen show at Madison Square Garden (I've tried something like a jillion times to change the preferences to show me stuff around Atlanta-obviously unsuccessful- but that's a whole other story). Kool & The Gang are the other group on the bill. Odd pairing, what?
I have a co-worker who has a "the-man-has-it-out-to-get-me" complex. Normally, I just ignore him- even when he's talking directly to me. (Let me not forget the part where he’s also a dumbass who has- for something like three years now- been trying to prove some ridiculous point about how unfair our bosses are in enforcing the rules equitably by coming in around 9:30 every day just because some of the other asstards come in late and it’s not fair. And then bitches that he can’t get enough hours of work, and doesn’t get paid enough.)
Anyway, he was griping that he had to go to court for getting cited for driving on an expired tag. He was jabbering on about how “technically, 2011 wasn't over yet- so I shouldn't get a ticket until 2012.” I asked him when he got the ticket. He said in December. I asked when his birthday was. He said November.
I said (and you’re gonna have to use your imagination to get the right inflection of incredulity), “you're actually going to go before a judge and make that argument?”
He confirmed that he was. And people wonder why I say I work with fucktards.
Alas, the derision in my voice was lost on him. Of course.
I was telling Shelby about it and she said “well, if he was from Virginia, I might understand...” (because in Virginia, you renew after the first of the year, instead of your birthday. Like we used to do in Georgia. You know, fifteen years or so ago?)
Anyway, I said “he is from Virginia- but he's lived here at least 10 years. You'd think it would've sunk in by now- but that's a layer of stupid I don't think anything's ever getting through!”
So a few days after that, dumbass co-worker is all kinds of down because the judge wasn't buying it.
I asked him “did the judge appeared to be retarded?"
He looked perplexed.
“Well that's the only fucking way he would've gone for that story,” I continued.
Seriously, sooner or later they'll all stop talking to me and just let me do my fucking work...
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