Team Amberica: World Police

making something more expensive doesn’t necessarily make it better.  a $200 ugly ass shirt is actually worse than an ugly ass shirt that only cost $30.  why?  cause you were only stupid enough to spend $30 on it - not borderline mentally handicapped enough to spend $200.

my favorite is when the dumbass purchaser/wearer wants to justify their hideous piece of clothing by saying something like, “but it’s [insert brand no one cares about]!”.  oh shit!  why didn’t you say so?  nevermind then.  my personal opinion based on good taste has now totally changed!  because, in the end, i am totally swayed by name brands and what the collective deems as “cool”.  from now on, please inform me of the price and brand of something vomitous before i form an opinion on it.  i don’t like to think for myself if i don’t have to.

by the way, nice $200 shirt!  i love that designer.

need an example?  click here.  yeah.  i think i’ve made my point.

as if the fact that much of my current job involves me answering the phone in the first place isn’t enough - idiot people insist on making it worse.

how it should go:

me - “good afternoon - [name of business]”

random person - “may i speak to so and so?”

me - “sure - let me transfer you.”

transaction over.  easy peasy.

how it sometimes goes:

me - “good afternoon - [name of business]”

random person - “uhhhh yeah - i just missed a call from this number … “

me - “ok.  do you know who it was?  did they leave a message?  who do you normally deal with in this office?”

how it goes in my head:

me - “good afternoon - [name of business]”

random person - “uhhhhh yeah - i just missed a call from this number … “

me - “ok.  cool.  i just had pasta for lunch.  oh - i’m sorry.  i thought we were telling each other things that recently happened.  i mean, you can’t expect me to be able to help you because THERE’S 20 FUCKING PEOPLE WHO WORK IN THIS OFFICE AND I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHO CALLED YOU!  are you that fucking desperate for a phone call that you curse the fact you didn’t answer in time and immediately hit ‘redial’?  do you not know that if they really wanted to talk to you that they’d actually leave you a voice mail or are you too fucking lazy to check your messages?  call back when you know who you’re calling and no, i won’t wipe your ass for you either.”

As the clouds part and a bit of sanity sets in, I know I’m gonna be ok.

with each passing day, i hate people in this town even more.

although, i have to give it to them - they’re not pretending to be anything they’re not. they’re not pretending to generally care about you. they’re not pretending that they want to be friends. they’re trying to impress you - and they make it very apparent.

the problem? i don’t give a shit. i don’t care that your sister’s hairdresser made out with the guy who mows john rich’s yard and you’re convinced that’s your “in”. i don’t care that 5 years ago you went to the same gym as the avett brothers and now you tell people that you’re best friends. i don’t care that in college, you once drunkenly made out with kesha and now you tell people that she’s your occasional booty call. i don’t care about the irrelevant and/or no-talent ass-clown you’re working with who you’re convinced will be the next toby keith.

breaking news! john rich isn’t going to “see” something in you and make you a star. the avett brothers have no idea who you are and don’t care. ditto kesha. and, in what might be the understatement of the year, toby keith sucks.

you know what impresses me? a good personality. a sense of humor. integrity. talent. good taste. passion. a soul.

you don’t have any of those things. you are a douchebag. when you talk out of your ass, it smells of shit. i don’t hate you because i choose to hate you. you make me hate you.

That’s gonna be the name of my punk rock band. We’re anti-establishment. We drink and smoke a lot. We cause ruckuses. We’re badasses who just don’t care. Iggy Pop is one of our biggest fans. Rock.