Restaurant fashion police.

If you’ve ever served in a restaurant, you learn quickly that asshole comes in all shapes, sizes, colors, and religions.

While some of those aforementioned shapes, sizes, colors or religions are more, well, assholey than others, you have a duty as a server to take more than your fair share of shit from the shittiest of people this godforsaken world has to offer.

Love the shit. Take the shit. Eat the shit.

All of it.

And fucking smile while you do it, too. In fact, go back for seconds. It’d be rude not to.

They tell you in Server College not to pre-judge. Don’t stereotype. But anyone who’s worked a day slinging free bread can tell you this is impossible.

While I’m not picky, I do have a few preliminary questions I like to ask the host prior to them filling my station:

Can he properly wear a hat?

Does it still have the stickers?

Are their kids wearing pants?

Does his shirt feature more camouflage than it does sleeves?

Does the…

a.) Complete lack of a belt
b.) Inability to properly configure a belt
c.) Inability to determine a proper pant size for oneself

…allow me to accurately describe in great detail the type of undergarment the customer is wearing?

“Yes, no, yes, no, no.”

Right this way, folks.


To the future!

Third-shifters rejoice. You’re an hour closer to going home and you didn’t have to do a goddamn thing.

Your boss would have to be a real prick to add an hour to the end of your shift. I’d punch him in the throat and quit that motherfucker. And don’t give me that, “But I need that paycheck every week because bills,” bullshit, either. Fuck that! Live like our caveman ancestors!

Those Ramen noodles aren’t going to hunt and gather themselves, pussy.

A change in perspective.

Twelve feet, the floor gets beat,
Goings on between the sheets?
Jurassic Park, Tony Stark
Action movies after dark?
Scrubbing grime, Grandfather chimes,
Move the couch a hundred times?
Practice dance and elephants,
Stomping the invading ants?
Sing in the tub, fiesta hub,
Starting up your own Fight Club?
Faucet leaks, hide-and-seek,
What’s the source of all those creaks?

Dogs are pricks, I hear the licks,
Trying out a Pogo Stick?
Jumping jacks and racing sacks,
Turtles falling on their backs?
Balls are rolling, going bowling,
Race cars you’re remote-controlling?
New drumset bought, vacuum spots,
Cats are chasing laser dots?
Invited crowds, voices loud,
Bombs creating mushroom clouds?
A dragon’s lair, truth or dare,
What is going on up there?


Generally, there are those who think swearing is unnecessary; an
Obtrusion, if you will, to an otherwise well-crafted argument.

Frankly, I don’t believe it matters much in the grand scheme.
Uncalled for? Maybe. But I don’t think it reflects
Class. I don’t think it shows a lack of
Knowledge or an ability to effectively utilize a language.

You should have an
Open mind, however, and
Understand that we all
Rely on different
Styles of communication,
Eloquent or otherwise, and
Learn to accept this as