Time Killind reads.....pointless but interesting to read

[mustynutz]

So here I am today grabbing my cock and stroking it, the usual. So I call up a fat chick I know to get some headro. She says ok but I have to buy her Denny's first. So I go to Denny's and order the T-Bone and Eggs. The waitress looks really sexy and I ask her what she'll do for a $10 tip. She says anything I want. So we go in the back and I fuck her little ass for a while, then I cum in the soup of the day. Now it is Cream of Man Chowder.

So now I have a T-Bone and Eggs and no need to go see fatty mcgee. So I piss all over it and find a bum. I say he can have it but I get to stick a wiffle ball bat up his ass first. He agrees if I throw in a bottle of Mad Dog. All parties are satisfied so I shove the bat in his ass, he screams like a dog getting fucked and I am on my way again. Then a cop rolls up and says he found some bum anally impaled down the street a ways. So I piss on his car and spit in his face. Then he beats me to the ground like I'm a nigger or something. After the cops little power trip is over I hop in his back seat and take a dump. He gets all excited and eats it all up, I saw some corn and peanuts in there.

Now I am back on the street and feeling good. So I wander into a gay bar and begin chatting up the fellows. I arrange a mongolian cluster fuck back at my place (when I say my place I mean some house I am going to break into). So we all head to some house and I break in. Now there are 50 gay horny men looking for some cock. I search the house for my man-loving tool, ahhh there it be a ak-47 with an extended clip. Then I walk into the orgy and kill the queers, what you thought I was going to get down in some man love.

So back to fatty mcgee, she keeps calling my cell phone because she is hungry and thinks she might die. I tell her the only thing on my menu is Baby Batter, she says anything will do. So I go to her house and stick my dick in her ass then let her blow me. I cum down her throat then punch her in the eye, why you ask, no reason just looked like fun. Then her mom comes home and is very drunk and horny. I tell her I'll fuck her if they have a mother/daughter lesbain session for me. They get naked and I throw some crisco on them to make it more enjoyable. After a half hour of incestual lesbian love I am as horny as Micheal Jackson in boys town. So I take turns fucking thier mouths, asses and axe wounds. Then I cum in Mommy's mouth and they share it like a mommy bird feeding her young.

So then I make my way home when I pass Denny's. I see a couple leaving and ask if they had the soup. They both have "loved it". Then I told them about the anal loving waitress and my man goo deposit. Then the guy raped my ass and slit my throat.

 

[mustynutz]

10:48 p.m.

Sam, Backer and I are ready. The hunt has begun, and I will not return empty-handed. Determination sits on my shoulder with a shotgun pressed to my temple. I will succeed or I will die. There are no other options. I walk into the party with my life on the line.

11:39 p.m.

It's the third time she has looked at me, and it's go time. I make my way across the room, towards this brunette bombshell. I can smell her scent from here, and it only makes me want her more. I can hear Determination cock the gun...I'm past the point of no return. I stand right next to her and stare into her gorgeous green eyes; she looks up and smiles at me...

12:58 a.m.

It feels good to be back in my own bed, and even better to be in it with her. She was a little cold at first, but I warmed her up quick enough. We've been making out for twenty minutes now; I'm making my move. I reach down and unzip my pants. Her eyes open wide for a moment, but she quickly recovers. Her lips are bright red, and she is slightly moaning. I give her a little nudge on the head to let her know what direction she should be going in. This innocent little princess is about to be taken for the ride of her life. She doesn't know what she's gotten herself into.

1:03 a.m.

What the hell have I gotten myself into!? This innocent little princess is insane!! Things started out well enough. But the head, dear lord the head! Does this girl realize that I'm not made out of titanium? She may already have sheered off the top layer of my skin down there. I need to get the hell out of there, but I can't. If I make a sudden movement, I might lose my only reason for living. I'll just have to ride it out and then make a break for it.

1:22 a.m.

OH MY GOD. The brunette has just been upgraded from cute to weird to mentally defective. I just "finished" in her "facial orifice", and she didn't swallow right away. She didn't swallow at all. She gargled it. SHE FUCKING GARGLED IT! She looked at me, winked, wiped off her lips, and then bent her head back and gargled it. That was too much for me. I feel bad for throwing her out of the room like that, but damn, she gargled. There will be no gargling on the premises, sweet pea. Damn, I'm shaking. That shit just freaked me to the core.

1:26 a.m.

"You gargled me!! Don't you realize how weird that is!?"

"Sorry, it was my first time, I didn't know!"

"WHAT THE FUCK? Do I look like mouthwash? Do I taste like Wint-O-Green? You need to let me know, because if I do I need to go to the doctor immediately!"

"Come on, just let me back in. Unlock the door. It's cold in the hallway."

"Hell no, baby. You've been banished from here forever. You crossed the line with that little move. 'It's my first time'...don't give me that shit! You know damn well you're crazy, so just get the hell out of here. I swear, I'm gonna call the cops!"

"Yeah right, you psycho. Go ahead and call the cops, because I'm not leaving!"

1:49 a.m.

"So that's when she started gargling me, Officer."

2:12 a.m.

It sure is cold in this cell. That cop is lucky she was cute, or I wouldn't have gone quietly. She's lucky I didn't have to show her who was boss. When the hell do I get my phone call? Wait till the boys hear about this.

 

[mustynutz]

The crescent moon sat low in the sky, a grim smile from the night upon down the world. Shadows in the night were like inky patches of shifting darkness as the breeze blew the clouds past the moon. C-bear, Stash, and T-love were surveying their turf from the balcony overlooking what they owned. There was rumor on the breeze that a new comer had been causing trouble lately with impersonating Stash. Flooding the hood with bad product. He had to be stopped.

Their crew was the most feared on the block. No one wanted to mess with C-bear. She was the crews muscle. Her short light colored hair, brown eyes, well defined jaw line, broad shoulders, deep chest, and powerful limbs had her mistaken for a man on many occasions and many a man has found themselves pinned to the wall and mounted prison style for their mistake. C-bear is not one to be trifled with. T-love and Stash were fraternal twins that looked as different from eachother as their attitudes. T-Love was of mixed blood and medium build, his eyes told the story of asian ancestry but his coloring was ambiguous. A notch was missing from hir right ear as the result of gang fight from his youth. Smooth with the ladies and strutting in his white sneakers, T-love gave the illusion of playfulness but could turn violent at the drop of a hat and for that reason alone he was his brothers right hand man. Stash, medium build, blacker than chocolate, earned his name due to a birthmark on his lip. No skin pigment whatsoever made it appear that he constantly had just finished a big glass of milk. Quiet, methodical, and prone to insane levels of violence. Rumor has it around the block that C-Bear tried to step up to Stash back in the day, and found herself cut in a dozen places and bleeding profusely before she even knew what hit her. Even T-Love avoided crossing his brother.

The acrid scents of chlorine and sewage drifted lazily pooling in spots to form pockets of overwhelming odors, forcing ones nose to wrinkle. T-Love lounged on the corner of the balcony, acting casual while he kept an eye out for the guy trying to pass himself and his product off as the real thing. C-Bear was getting restless and wanted to charge down and search for the wanna be. Her muscles twitched with anticipation of the chase and subsequent beat down. Stash, quiet and cool, stretched occasionally to work out the stiffness in his legs. Movement on the edges of a shadow caused T-love to stop looking at a cute piece of pussy under the streetlight and tense up just a bit with anticipation. He hoped it was their guy, he was getting bored just sitting here and was starting to think about stealing some food from The Man. It was their target. T-love quietly alerted Stash and C-bear and their plan to catch the imitator was set in motion.

 

[mustynutz]

Making his way down the backside stairs to avoid notice T-love made his way to the shadowed corner of the building where Stash's doppleganger was pushing his cheap mexican weed onto unsuspecting customers. The blowback for dissatisfied customers was starting to effect the crews profits and this could not be allowed to go on. Acting ignorant, T-love wandered over to the pusher, acting like he was messed up on the green he throws the lingo that he was looking to make a buy, and the copy-cat perked up and walked over to him.

"Yo Stash, my man, you still got the hook up bro?", T-love snickered inwardly as he delivered his lines
"Best shit on the street yo, everyone know, that's why this young brother about to blow".

T-love cringed and thought silently to himself "This cat is making my brother to look the fool, this has gotta stop".

"Yo man how much you want?"

"Well how much for how much?"

"Same price as usual, for a sack"

"Can I get a taste to see what I'm buying?"

"Just a taste bro, don't want you getting all wacked out before you buy"

Distracted by the sale the fake Stash never saw the real one sneak up behind him, with a wink Stash gave T-love his cue to act to confused.

"Yo, yo, yo, what the fuck is going on here, either this is the best shit I ever had or am I seeing double here" T-love could act, he just could not act cool in front of The Man, but with straight up bullshitting marks, he was a master, "What kind of game you playing Stash?"

Still unaware of Stash behind him the fool dug his grave deeper"What the fuck you talking bout you scruffy duster, I ain't pulling shit"

"Seems to me you been doing a lot of playing lately", Stash said quietly, "what's your name pussy?"

"I am the one and only Stash, who the fuck do you think I am....", he trailed off as he turned to confront the man he claimed to be.

"What's your real name player and why you biting my style and trying to horn in on my turf? If I don't get a satisfactory answer, I got a new name for you, and that's 'Dog Food'.

"The call me 9-lives man, and I do what I want when I want, can I help it if your customers like my shit better?"

"My customers been complaining to me bout your shit man, in fact my brother could do your whole supply and not even twitch", and with that comment T-love snatched 9-lives bag and slammed his face down into snorting up the whole bag, laughing Stash continued as he moved forward to corner 9-lives, "In fact Mr. 9-lives I think you have a lesson to be learned"

Stash flipped his head and flashed the signal. 9-lives hair stood up on the back of his neck as he backed himself up against the wall as he could feel the ground shake and hear the thunder of the approaching C-Bear. Her muscles rippled smoothly as she loped across the space between her hiding spot and the corner where 9-lives was trying to hide himself in the bricks. Scrabbling backwards and almost walking up the wall, 9-lives quivered in fear, the stink of his fear showed at his crotch and quicker than the blink of an eye C-bear was on him.

 

[mustynutz]

He's called 8-lives now, and has a few new distict marks that seperated him from Stash. No one would ever make that mistake again. The family business was saved and the crew kept order on their turf. A light from the balcony comes on and The Man steps out, he is looking for someone or something, he calls out into the night

"Here Kitty kitty kitty kitty, Dende, Tiger, cmon puppy love China, in the house dinner time"

Dende the little black cat with the white milk mustache, his brother Tiger and their pal China a beautiful white boxer, all perk up their ears and make undue haste back upstairs, their illicit catnip ring secure once again.

 

[mustynutz]

Once upon a time there was a little girl who lived in large woods. She lived alone apart from keeping a little pig she was fattening for Christmas. Anyway this little girl wasn't really that little. She really was pretty big and usually wore big boots with red construction overalls and a backpack on her back. She loved terrorizing the nearby towns riding around on her Fatbob Harley and stomping on jerks that tried hitting on her.

She really was a bad ass and people called her 'The Little Red Riding Hood'. Red for short.

Anyway one Friday night after finishing work Red felt like partying it up a bit. She called in to her local sex shop for supplies and stuffed her purchases into her pack. She than rode across to her favorite hangout to have a few brews with her girl friends. Time just seemed to fly and she was really feeling good after a few brews and chasers.

Kissing her girl friends goodbye Red headed out. On her way she smashed some guy in the nuts just for the hell of it. "Fucking great night" Red muttered to herself as she kicked her Fatbob into life and roared off into the night.

As she rode through the woods Red was thinking about the night and the little cutie she had been talking to in the bar. She was also thinking about her purchases on her back. The vibration of the bike and the warm night air caressed her and she was feeling pretty damn good and pretty damn horny as well.

Getting close to her place Red could start to see lights glimmering through the trees. 'What the fuck?' Red thought to herself. 'I didn't leave no lights on this morning.' Killing the motor she drove the bike into the bush on the side of the road and crept toward the house. Parked in her drive she saw a red Chevy low rider with all the trim. She recognized it as belonging to Chino the leader of the Wolves.

Creeping up to the house she peered in through the window. Chino was sprawled across her sofa. An empty whisky bottle lay on the floor beside him. His mouth was wide open she could hear his snoring even through the closed window. On the table she could see dirty dishes and a half-eaten leg of pork.

Slowly she sidled her way around the house until she was beside her pigsty. All was quite. She couldn't hear any snuffling shitty sounds normally made by her pig. Then she saw it. Hanging from the limb of a tree. The remains of her pig! Fighting back her anger she thought for a while and then with a deadly resolve turned back to the house.

Quietly she opened her front door and eased herself into the room. Chino was still snoring on the couch. She approached him carefully while quietly taking her purchases from her pack. Standing in front of him she drew back and fully bitch-slapped Chino across his sleeping face.

Chino woke with a start confused and disorientated.
"What the fuck?" he said
"Handcuffs to hold you." she said snapping them around his wrists.
"What the." he said further confused.
"Rope to tie you." she said as she flipped him over face down and tied him legs apart over the back of the sofa.
Moving around in front of him she slowly drew the last of her purchases from the pack. Chino's eyes were wide and a look of fear slowly spread over his face.
"What the fuck is that?" He asked in trepidation.
"Mandingo" she said as she slowly strapped the massive dildo to herself.
"To fuck you" she said as she moved behind him and rammed the giant member through his tightened sphincter.

And that is my story children I know it was long but the moral is " Even if you think you are a wolf, if you fool around with piggies sooner or later your gonna get fucked"!!!!

 

[mustynutz]

Highschool. 1999. In February of that year, swing dancing made a comeback. It then died out in late February after many deaths related to the dance/sport. The year vests were popular and everyone had one-- but everybody scratched their heads when they froze while wearing the sleeveless vests in the winter. The Blair Witch Project was the big movie. Sega Dreamcast was the hot new game system to have. Wayne Gretzky retires in April of '99. The San Antonio Spurs win their first NBA Championship by defeating the Knicks. The Rams beat the Titans in the last play of the Superbowl win they stop the Titans' run at the 1 yard line.

It was also the year that my deadbeat aunt finally held onto a job. She invited my dad(her brother) to her new 'workplace' to see her. She was an exotic dancer. This freaked my father out. Although he did get a free lap dance. Family benefits I suppose.

1999--The year I had sex. Lots of sex.

I was a sophomore, wasn't too big-- but I had the attitude of a pimp. I had too much attitude for my size and looks though. It's kind of like a midget walking as if he were 7 feet tall. For someone of my stature, I had some balls to talk to the popular girls that I did. Most didn't want to have anything to do with me-- but I was focused on one girl in particular. Shandi Thompson.

5 foot 3. 105 pounds. Long brown hair. Cheerleader. Hot. She could also do a split-- which was huge in my book. Oh yea, she had pretty boobies. I don't know why I was so obsessed with her boobs. It's not like they gave me any pleasure or that I could do anything with 'em. Whenever a girl expects me to play with her boobs, I just poke 'em and watch 'em bounce back and forth like Jello.

Teehee. Bouncy Jello boobies.

After several months of annoying the hell out of her, I finally conviced her to be friends. Whenever I asked her to go on a date with me, I got the legendary "Fuck off" line. She didn't like it when I jokingly said that my name was Justin-- not 'Off'. Either my humor or my annoyingness paid off-- because I got a date from her.

Oh, and some sex too.

That night, she was totally into me. When we first got to the table, I pulled her chair out for her and smiled, expecting her to sit down. What she did next was totally unexpected, she bent over with her ass right in front of me. I figured she was just trying to be kinky, so I did what any self-respecting guy would do.

I spanked her butt.

Turns out she just dropped her napkin and was bending over to pick it up. My bad. During the dinner, we had a great conversation going. I moved my foot around under the table to see if I could find her foot and get a little game of footsies going. Ah, there's her foot. For the rest of the dinner, I was rubbing my foot against her as I stared into her eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You know." I'd then wink.

"No, I don't. Quit looking at me like that."

"You don't like the foot action?" , I'd wink again.

"What are you talking about?"

 

[mustynutz]

I looked under the table and discovered that I was getting aroused by the leg of the table the entire time.

When I dropped her off by her house, she actually asked me if I wanted to come inside. Needless to say, I was quite shocked-- especially considering that I wasn't really the smooth pimpin' player that I expected to be on this date. Oh well, I'm going in. As I walked into the door, she looked seductively over her shoulder and smiled...

"I'm going upstairs to change into something else. Why don't you make yourself... comfortable."

My jaw dropped. Wow. This chick totally wants me. She walked upstairs and I started getting "comfortable". Keep in mind, I was a sophomore in highschool who didn't have too much experience with girls. When a girl told me to get comfortable, my teenage boy mind translated that into "strip down." So I stripped.

As I finally got my boxers off, I heard someone walking down the stairs. Oooh, it's time. I need to do a sexy pose, I thought to myself. I jumped on the couch, laying on my back, with my hands covering my crotch as I looked sexily into the direction of the stairs.

As I saw the figure reach the bottom of the stairs, I tried to utter something sexy--

"Why hellooooooo......MR. THOMPSON!?!?!?"

"Hey there Justin. Shandi will be down in a little bit. Did you two have fun on your date?"

"Um.. ya.. we had a great time."

He sat down on the couch beside me, looking in my direction. Yes, I'm completely naked. I guess I should also mention that Mr. Thompson was blind.

So there I was, sitting naked on the couch with a 40 year old man.

"Well, I've got to run in a few minutes. I have to catch an overnight flight and I should be back sometime tomorrow evening."

He then started telling me about his business and what he does for a living. Yadda yadda yadda. I stood up and walked around as he freakishly kept staring in my direction, even though I didn't mention that I was getting up. Being a mischevious teenager, I started doing jumping jacks and naked pelvic thrusts and he stood there. I laughed to myself, thinking that it was cool to do naked air-humps in the direction of a friend's father as he explains stocks to me, my penis flapping back and forth with every word he uttered.

"JUSTIN! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!". Shit. Shandi was standing right there at the bottom of the stairs and there I was, totally naked, doing the macarena in her living room in front of her dad.

"Shandi!", her dad exlaimed. "Come down here. You're keeping Justin waiting!"

"But dad! He's not--"

''SHANDI! Don't argue with me! This is your company. You treat him with respect!"

"Dad! He's not wearing any--"

"Any what? Name brand clothes? He can't help it he's poor. Don't look down on others because they're not as fortunate as we are. Now come sit on the couch and talk to your guest. I've got to run."

With that said, he was gone. "Justin! I don't know how you got away with that, but put something on!". I clumsily stumbled over to my pile of clothes and put my boxers back on. I noticed something funny on the ground, it looked like a candy bar. I like candy bars. I wasn't going to let this go to waste. I picked it up, blew on it(to get all the germs off) and took a bite.

FUCK. It's a cat treat.

"What are you doing?!"

Without thinking, I shoved the candybar into my boxers, not wanting her to see how dumb I really was. I sheepishly walked over and took a seat on the couch.

"Justin, I know you're probably wondering why a girl like me would go on a date with a guy like you. It's just that--"

"I'm hot and you like the way I present myself?"

"Not exactly. You're a total loser around school and a total dumbass. There's something about you though. You seem sincere. You're-- real."

I smiled at the half-assed compliment as she pulled a blanket over both of us and we proceeded to watch a movie. During the movie, she put her hand on my leg and her head on my shoulder.

Suddenly, without warning, I felt a tingling in my crotch area. I leaned back and closed my eyes as i felt something travel up and down my groin.

"Oooh, that feels good Shandi."
"Are you okay, Justin?"
"Mmmmm, I'm fine. Don't stop."
"Dont' stop what? What are you talking about?"

She stood up and pulled the blanket off of me. Charlie, her male cat, was licking my penis. I was noticeably excited as well. This was quite embarassing. Damn cat treat. I just got a hard-on from the advances of a feline. A fucking cat. A male cat at that.

Am I gay now?

Nooo. I can't be gay. I'm here with a girl. So I'm bi.

After laughing off the situation, we ended up upstairs in her room making out heavily on her bed. There was a lot of touching and feeling and I was just getting into it when--

*SLAM* "Who's up there??". Shit. Her brother. Forgot all about him.

"Justin! Jump out the window, my brother will kill you if he sees you!"

I quickly jumped up, put on my pants and jumped out the window head first. Unfortunately, I never got all the way out of the window. The back of my pants caught onto one of the window hooks that hangs plants and I was now hanging, mooning whomever looked out the window.

Turns out that her brother thought the situation was hilarious and started slapping my butt bare-handed for about an hour before finally letting me loose.

This was indeed a sad night for Sideburns. I went on a date with a girl and ended up getting more action from her male cat, her dad, and her brother.

 

[mustynutz]

Like all young men in love, we are often very eager to please our girlfriends, especially when you're still in that "how in the heck did I land a girl like this" stage. It's no secret that pleasing often requires money. Consequently, at the age of 17, I needed to find a job to fund the dinners, movies, and occasional joints that Maria and I would have together.

I was a pretty lazy kid, and probably wouldn't have gotten a job if it hadn't been for my girlfriend; as a result, my half assed job search landed me a part-time gig at an independent convenience store downtown, one of your mini-mart/convenience store type deals. Pretty small, but you could find everything you needed if you looked hard enough. It was also located a block south of an old folks home. I recall somebody telling me that the home also had a wing for semi-mentally ill geriatrics, but that fact played no significance at the time.

The store itself was pretty shitty. If you fixed it up, it could probably be a pile of crap. The owner was a real cheap ass and he cut corners anywhere he could. It didn't really bother me though. I got paid under the table, so it allowed me to overlook the lack of security camera, smelly uniform, and shitty hours. When you get paid, you get laid. That was my motto.

Thursday night, 11pm.

I was closing that evening. I often worked late hours because I had school during the day but I didn't mind because no one really came in after nine. I usually passed the time on the phone with Maria, while drinking gallons of coffee to keep awake.

Me: so, uh, like what are you wearing?
Maria: Well, I can tell you what I'm not wearing.
My soldier instantly stood at attention.
Me: So what are you not wearing?
Maria: panties.
Needless to say, I practically creamed my pants right then and there. Honestly, I had no self-control.

Ding Ding.

Store doors slide open. I looked up and saw a rather odd looking women wandering inside. She looked kind of like Courtney Love might look if she ever made it to 80. She disappeared into aisle two. I paid little attention. I was about to get phone laid!

Me: So...what else are you not wearing?
She sighed.
Maria: Max, just be quiet. Guess what I'm doing now?
Me: what? What?
Maria: I'm touchi...

Old lady: Excuse me young man.

I looked up to see the old woman standing there.

Well that just killed it. There is something about looking at a shriveled old woman while talking to your hot girlfriend that doesn't really do much for your dude downstairs. Talk about maddening.

Me: I'll call you back Maria.



I put the phone down and gave the woman an annoyed look. "Can I help you?"
She sounded as old as Mr. Burn's mother. "Yes, I can't seem to find the whole wheat bread. You see, I need whole wheat bread. It helps by bowel movement.
"Your practically dead anyways you old corpse," I muttered.
"What?"
"I said the bread is in aisle 2"
"Yes, you see I looked in aisle 2, but..."
"aisle 2"
"No, you see, I looked in aisle 2, but..."

I could feel my anger rising. I was a teenage kid on hormone overdrive dying to talk his girlfriend but instead was stuck jawing with this incompetent old woman.

"Lady listen. What does that sign say? You know, the one right above aisle two?"
"Well it says bread, but..."
"Well then that's where the bread's gonna be ya old hag!!"

I know, I know. I was being pretty mean. But that wasn't me talking! It was the penis! It was the penis.

The lady stood there staring for what seemed like a full minute. I looked at her curiously, trying to judge her reaction. She then reached out, picked up some gum, and put it on the counter. That's weird I thought. Regardless, I grabbed it to ring it up, while she went into her purse to pull out some change.

Now maybe it was the caffeine. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. And maybe it was the fact that my penis was blinding me from any rational thought. But when I looked up from the cash register, I swear I saw the old lady holding what looked like a pistol. And I freaked the fuck out.

"Get out from behind the counter you little puke, and get me my fucking whole wheat!" she cackled.

Oh. Dear. Lord. A little pee came out. I watched as a small brown circle formed on the crotch of my khakis. I ran to aisle two, the lady right behind me, desperately searching for the whole wheat bread.

"Here. Here!" I cried. "I'm sorry! Take your bread!"

She cackled again.

"You little puke! A corpse am I? You're nothing but a shit stain on my panties!"
She raised the pistol. I cowered, raising my hands to cover my face.

POP!

Huh?

I opened my eyes and surprisingly, stared not into a gun hole, but a flag. A flag that said BANG. What the hell? I started laughing my ass off and the reality of the situation dawned on me. Of course! This wasn't a criminal! This was probably just some senile lady who had wandered off from the old folks home! I laughed some more. It wasn't a criminal. It was just a crazy lady.

"Listen, stay where you are. I'm going to call the home," I said.
"I ain't goin back there!"

I honestly never saw it coming. This lady, with the power of Adam Vinatieri, reared back and football punted me right in the knee cap. I went down like the Titanic. It was like hell would feel if Satan himself doing me from behind. I writhed in pain, and peeing my pants some more. It was all that coffee I tells ya.

Now picture this. A healthy, teenage boy, probably 5'10, 160lbs around that time, laying on the floor whimpering, in his own urine mind you, while a somewhat mentally ill old lady stood over him, cackling. Always with the cackling.

I looked up as she sauntered off again, making her way over to the counter, grabbing the speakerphone. "Clean up in aisle two bitch!"

Ding ding. The doors slid open again as she left.

"Wait" I yelled, painfully crawling on my knees. "You forgot to pay for the bread!"



I just told people I fell down some stairs.

 

[mustynutz]

A couple of months ago, I bought new living room furniture on one of those no interest for 20 years deals. The frightening thing is that according to the bill I receive every month, the interest rate should I somehow not get this paid off in time is a rather shocking 23.99% - holy crap. I've been paying more than the minimum $54.00 just to get it paid off faster in order to avoid having to pay that unbelievable interest rate and because as soon as I pay this off, I'm going to get new furniture for the guest room.

Yes I could just save up for it, but fuck you I'm an American. Instant gratification in a consequence free environment is my birth right.

Things were going along fine until the power went off for three fucking days at the house and I didn't feel like dealing. That and all my financial stuff is on Quicken and no power = no computer. As soon as life returned to normal I realized that my payment was due the next day and mailed it. It ended up getting credited to my account a full 48 hours late – oh my god I suck at life and have no value as a person. They hit me with a $34.50 late fee. What the fuck? Seriously, it seems just a bit draconian to charge a $34.50 late fee on a $54.00 bill. Besides, by my calculations I've paid enough on this damn thing that I don't actually owe them any money at all right now.

I did what anyone would do, I called the "customer service" number in a snit.

"Hello welcome to Citifinancial Retail Services, our menu options have changed. Please listen to the following three hundred menu options none of which apply to your situation...."

0

"I'm sorry that is not a valid menu option. Hello welcome to Citifinancial Retail Services, our menu options have changed. Please listen to the following three hundred menu options none of which apply to your situation."

DAMNIT

"To speak to customer service please enter the exact chemical equation for peanut butter and hit the pound symbol."

"I'm sorry but that was not the correct equation. Hello welcome to Citifinancial Retail Services, our menu options have changed. Please listen to the following three hundred menu options none of which apply to your situation.."

I hit some random number.

Hola dé la bienvenida a los servicios al por menor de Citifinancial, nuestras opciones del menú han cambiado. Escuche por favor las trescientas opciones siguientes del menú ningunas de las cuales se aplican a su situación

Fuck a duck now what did I do? Hang up and try again.

"Hallo begrüßen Sie zu den Kleindienstleistungen Citifinancial, unsere Menüwahlen haben geändert. Hören Sie bitte zu den folgenden drei hundert Menüwahlen, von denen keine an Ihrer Situation anwenden"

swine hoda – try again

"Bonjour accueillez aux services au détail de Citifinancial, nos options de menu ont changé. Veuillez écouter les trois cents options suivantes de menu rien lesquelles s'applique à votre situation"

What the hell was that? I hit more random numbers.

"To speak to customer service please enter the first twenty digits of pi followed by the pound symbol."

3. 1415926535897932384

"I'm sorry that was the asterisk and not the pound symbol. Welcome to Citifinancial.."

Eventually, I hit pay dirt.

"Please hold to speak to a customer service representative who may or may not actually speak your mother tongue or be located on what you consider your home planet. If you have a problem with this, please contact your university and inform them that they should have required you to take Hindi, Assamese, Bengali, Gujarati, Kannada, Sanskrit, and/or Mahabharata....

Our offices are now closed. Please try again between the hours of 1:00 and 1:05 Greenwich Mean Time."

GODDAMN MOTHERFUCK SON OF A BITCH FUCK FUCK FUCK

Now not only am I going to have to pay the $34.50 late fee, but I'm also going to have to pay a $25 co-pay for emergency psychological counseling for the nervous breakdown that this whole thing has caused.

I wan to be reincarnated as a house cat, now that's the life.

 

[mustynutz]

Do you think I'm a spy or something? I'll give you a hint: I'm not. I'm a fucking waiter. I bring you your food with a quasi-creepy smile just to get a bigger tip, not because I heard the tail end of one of your unimportant conversations about the neighbor's blinds or the new breasts of your child's teacher.

Don't act like you don't do it.

Whenever you are eating out at a restaurant and you see a waiter approach, you put any and all conversations on hold. God forbid I overhear that you just painted your car, and you are unsure of the new color.

I would take that information straight to my manager to give him a hearty laugh, who would in turn, report it to the CIA and FBI so they can check up on you in a few weeks.

I guess the silence has its advantages, though. This way, I can ask who ordered what, and give you customer's a sense of importance in the dining experience.

But every once in a while, very rarely in fact, some people are so engrossed in a conversation that they don't notice my stealth panther-like movements as I pop by to refill their water.

--

I had been working at Yugo's, an upscale Italian restaurant, for around 7 months. I had the job down and was starting to notice the regulars. Every Thursday, the Kuwolski family would come in and order the family sized pepperoni pizza, one of our specialties. Every Saturday, Larry Ting would have a date, and every Saturday, he would wink at me at the end of the date. Whether he was signifying that he was getting laid or if he was coming on to me, I'll never know. But he was a good tipper, which was all I cared about.

And then there was Miss Rechisk, or Jane as she preferred to be called. Miss Rechisk was a lesbian. She wasn't a great looking lady, but she still got young bi-curious girls to sleep with her by flauntering her experience as her main asset.

Last night, Jane had a particularly good looking young woman with her, who looked somewhat familiar to me. At least, from what I could tell from behind, this woman looked like she could've been most men's dream. But for some reason, she was turning to the dark side. Nothing I could do about it now.

But that didn't mean I couldn't try.

I devised a cunning plan by which I would make the evening horrible, hoping that this lesbian newbie would associate lesbianism with crappy service and go back to the cock. Preferably mine...but I figured she would also associate me with the crappy service as well. Oh well, you have to take one for the team sometimes.

I saw Jane making her first move, the classic "wrist grab while laughing". She used it everytime. This was my first opportunity. Mystery girl's water was dipping below the halfway line. She was nervous, I was counting on her drinking a lot of water tonight.

I walked over to the table, and immediately Jane took her hand off of her prey's wrist, filling the table with deathly silence. The two girls both looked up at me and glared into my soul as if I had broken into their house and killed the family pet. I took this opportunity to glance at the beautiful face of the lesbian I was trying to straighten out.

Uber, I have been shocked before by many things on this site. (Most recently, that picture of the agent orange kid with no eyes) But nothing, nothing could've prepared me for what...or who I saw.

It was my own flesh and blood...my kid sister. 19 years old and fresh out of high school. It didn't shock me that my sister was bi-curious. It shocked me that I wanted to fuck the living shit out of her before I saw who she actually was. People like me should be locked up in the hills of West Virginia where we can do no harm to our species.

"Sara," I stammered. "I didn't know..."

"Chris!" She seemed equally shocked, if not moreso. "I was just...um..."

I left. Well, the action was more akin to a "bolt" or a "dash". I darted away from my sister and her new lover, into the restaurant's break room. I had these pictures and memories of my sister that were so innocent...and all of them were being shattered.

My little sister's first dance recital that I was forced to go to...Sara fell down and scraped her knee. But she got right back up and kept dancing, even though blood was pouring from her. In the new version, Sara stayed down and buried her face in between another little girl's legs.

At the science fair, when Sara was accepting the First Place trophy for a project she had done just the night before it was due, she was kissed on the cheek by our semi-attractive science teacher. In the new version, Sara made out with Mrs. Utensky, and nobody in the audience seemed to care.

And last Christmas, when I gave my sister a giant pink dildo, the memory of her thanking me was replaced by her using that dildo on somebody else.

"No! No!" I couldn't take it any more. I had to drown out the good memories to save them. I needed to think about something else. Anything else. Anything.

But as I went to stand up, I realized that my pants were much tighter than usual. My old friend, Cap'n Stabbin' was up and about. This confused me. But as I look back on it now, it seems very simple. Cause and effect. Cause: I thought about lesbians (even if my sister was the constant). Effect: I had a boner. Yes, it was sick. Yes, I felt like an incestuous pig. And yes, my caring sister cared just enough to come into the back room and check on me.

As she entered the room, we saw each other eye-to-eye. And then eye-to-crotch. And then eye-to-slightly-disgusted-eye.

"What the fuck do you have a boner for," asked my loving sister.

There was no easy way out of this. Of course, I couldn't be honest. But I wasn't an honest guy. I should be able to make up a lie, right?

"I was thinking...about...sea turtles. They really turn *gulp* me on. All of that going back and forth inside and outside of the shell."

I started to go flaccid. Sara noticed.

"You weren't thinking about li'l ol' me, were you bro? Does the fact that I'm a lesbian turn you on?"

I got harder.

"Oh, there you go again. I don't even have to describe all of the nasty stuff I want to do to do Jane to get you hard. Just knowing that your li'l sis likes to lick pussy is good enough for you, isn't it?"

It was.

"N-no. Don't get me wrong. I'm a very accepting person, Sara. But just because you like to lick pus-. Just because you get off thinking about other wo-."

"You don't have to say anything else. You're just a big pervert who wants to fuck his sister and her lover, aren't you?"

My bulge grew.

"Um...no?"

"Liar. You'd like nothing more than to see my head thrown back in pure lesbian ecstasy. Hands on my breasts as they heave up and down while my lover is expertly tending to my cunt as only a woman can. And when I am close to cumming, you want me to moan and scream and buck and cum all over my lover's face. You want to watch me lick my own juices off of her face and then finger myself to yet another orgasm. You want all of this...and more."

The truth was exposed. I did want this. At that moment, all I wanted was for Jane to come waltzing through the door and make hot lesbian love to my sister. 95% of me knew that this was wrong and I should be ashamed of myself. However, 5% of me (going on 6%), which happened to be doing all of the thinking at the time wanted it badly.

"Yes," I gasped out. "That's exactly what I want."

My sister looked pleased.

"How much are you willing to sacrifice to see hour upon hour of it?"

I didn't know what she meant by this.

"I don't know what you mean by that."

"Let me put things a little more bluntly for your smaller male brain. Are you willing to pay $29.95 to watch me and my girlfriends hump each other's pussies for 3 hours straight?"

It seemed like a fair price. $10 an hour for shame that would last a lifetime.

"Yes. Of course."

"Good. You can buy my video at any mom 'n' pop porno shop or Wal-Mart supercenter. Just ask for "Barely Legal Pussy Munchin' Munchkins 4. You won't be disappointed."

 

[mustynutz]

What about me screams freak magnet? When I ride the subway I try to block out the world as much as possible, iPod pumping, book in hand. At the instance this occurs I was listening to 40' by Franz Ferdinand, while reading 'A Million Little Pieces' by James Frey (Which is only mentioned because you should all go out and read it, it's amazing.)

Anyway, I'm minding my own business like every good commuter at 9:15 in the morning before that first glorious cup of coffee traverses my lips and works its way down my throat, its heat gently radiating throughout my body-

What was I talking about? Oh, this morning.

Yeah, so I'm reading and trying to keep my eyes open, when I'm brushed against by incoming people and someone stands right in front of me. Now, the L can get crowded, but that's usually before 9:00, so I looked up and half the train is empty... standing space anyway... but planted solidly in front of mine, meeting my eyes is an older gentleman.

His nose is perhaps six inches from my own, and if he looked down he could read my book. I'm sure he can hear my music. His lips are moving like a beached fish and I realize he's talking to me. Sighing, because for some reason I know this is going to end badly, I pull my headphones off and raise an eyebrow inquisitively.

He smiles, 'Hello there.' His demeanor is gentle and he seems harmless in his fitted red T-shirt and jeans. Decent sneakers and a new haircut, not bothering to compensate for the balding of his, I'm guessing, forty years or so. He has a pleasant face, small jowls beginning to form and bushy black eyebrows salted with gray. 'My names Bill.' He extends his hand.

I stare at it, and an uncomfortable moment passes before I slowly, grudgingly extend my own hand, 'Mike.'

'Nice to meet you son, I'm a married man, two kids. Jaime and Chris, Chris is captain of his basketball team.'

I care.

'That's great,' I respond, nodding and smiling... hoping to god the amount of people on the train will notice if he pulls a gun, or his dick out of his pants. I take a step back, 'I wish the best for them, but I'm in the middle of this book-'

'Yeah, they are great. Great. Great. Great. Make me glad to wake up every day.' He nods to accent each 'great,' reminding me of those bobble-head dolls.

'Great,' I smile, trying not to laugh. He's harmless. I drop my eyes and go back to my book. I see him shift out fo the corner of my eye, and feel his hand brush against my leg. I look up and he's looking off to the side, but I can tell he is looking at me out of the corner of his eyes. He smiles.

'Sorry about that, the train is kind of crowded.'

I look around, there is no one within six feet of us, it's as if they all know he's plague ridden. I smile insincerely and shift my leg away from him, rolling my eyes. I get about two sentences in when that same hand brushes my leg. I look up, 'hey, could you stop?'

'Wait? Oh sorry about that son, Can't keep my feet so well anymore. Say, do you like the Yankees?'

'Uh, yeah.'

'Good, good. Back to your book now.'

I nod and bury myself again. A minute passes, two. WE are under the bridge and starting to near the First Avenue stop. As the subway starts to slow, I feel a jostle and a hand on my crotch. I look up, eyes wide and he's staring at me smiling all teeth. He clenches his hand a bit, grabbing me through my jeans. I spring back, 'What the hell?!'

Then he freaks out. He raises his hands above his head, waving them like he's being attacked by a swarm of hornets. He tilts his head back and screams, the sound echoing off the subway 'IIIIIIIIII'MMM NOOOOOOOOTTTTT GAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!' Spinning around in a circle for about fifteen seconds the train stops and he runs off, hollering knocking pedestrians aside in a mad dash for his freedom.

The passengers on the train stare after him, then turn to me, huddled against the open door. I raise my hands in my defense, speechless... well, not quite, 'He touched my cock.'

They nod, the doors close and the train speeds on.

Only in the city.

 

[mustynutz]

As I sat in my little cubicle today, I decided that today's cure to my boredom would be to sign on to AIM - you know, talk to people I haven't talked to in a while, make fun of random people, trying to pick up some 8 year old gir...well, you get the picture. Myriads of evil jokes I planned to play on the unsuspecting AIM population ran through my mind like little kids in a park on a sunny summer afternoon. Needless to say, I was looking forward to the day's distractions.

Sadly, it was not to be.

As I typed "aim.com" into my internet browser, I took a swig of strong H2O. I was prepped for hours of tormenting and endlessly belittling helpless teeny bopping girls. I had set my goals high – I wanted to be blocked by at least five idiots in one afternoon. It was a tough challenge, but I was confident in my skills and thought my goal was well within reach.

The main "aim.com" webpage loaded quite quickly, and my mouse flew to the "AIM Express" link. Just as I was about to click on the link that promised to bring hours of joy to me and suffering and painful sobbing to others, something caught my eye. Something that I could not believe.


Towards the top of the page, right beneath the ever-promising "Get Cool Stuff" Category I saw the words:


Acronym Dictionary



That's right folks. The genius that runs the AIM webpage decided that it was necessary to have a Acronym Dictionary, not only encouraging the idiots who actually use these acronyms to learn them, use them, and invent new ones, but also, in the same mentally impaired thought, implying to all who use them that these acronyms were "ok" to use.

Don't get me wrong, I use the occasional "brb" or "g2g", but this Acronym Dictionary takes the whole brevity thing to a whole new level. I'm talking about seventh circle of hell level, here. The one with the guy ripping his own flesh off because he's in so much pain. Yeah, that one.

I gazed in utter horror through this self-proclaimed "dictionary." For a brief moment, I thought I had accidentally clicked on the wrong link and was actually looking at the stock ticker for the NYSE.

I have never seen such blatant disregard for the English language in my life. The fact that some pale skinned, trainer-bra wearing, Britney Spears emulating teenager is sitting in front of her Justin Timberlake and O-Town collage-covered computer actively using these acronyms in everyday conversations is beyond human comprehension. And if you think that's bad, think about the fact that the other nitwit she's talking to actually understands what's being said. Scary stuff.


Without further ado:

Here's a small sampling of some of my personal favorites from the awe-inspiring "Acronym Dictionary":


AFAIK - As Far As I Know

Well, if you're using this acronym, I'll just forget about putting on my running shoes. Looks like I wont have to be going too far after all.



BCNU - Be Seein' You

Yes, they actually shortened "seeing" to "seein'" in the dictionary. I know, I know...I wont be getting much sleep tonight either.



CFN - Ciao For Now

Apparently we're now incorporating multiple languages into the dictionary. According to my extensive research of the Dewey Decimal System, if this "dictionary" was a published text, it would go right next to the "English to Klingon/ Klingon to English Dictionary", under the "Useless Shit that should be Burned" Category.



DQMOT - Don't Quote Me On This

No one who uses this acronym should be quoted. Ever.



GMTA - Great Minds Think Alike

Honestly, when I first looked at this, I thought it was going to be a reference to a new Grand Theft Auto game I hadn't heard about, thus making this acronym somewhat useful and approaching a level of coolness. I was wrong. Gay as the cum dripping out of Richard Simmon's mouth while he's doing the Pony.



HT - Hi There

The day I'm walking down the street and someone yells "HT!" at me is the day you see me on the 6 o'clock evening news dressed in an Army of Darkness outfit. And yes, I'll be waving a real gun. And yes, I do have that "crazy look" in my eyes.



IIRC - If I Recall Correctly

Excuse me, but if you're using ANY of these acronyms, the word "recall" is not in your vocabulary. "Recall" is up there with "Reminisce" and "Think" – words that those smart kids at school use.



KIS - Keep It Simple

Don't worry, sister. You don't need to type that one twice.



PLS/PLZ - Please

Here you can see the evolution from "Please" to "PLS" to the more hardcore, edgy, in your face form of "PLZ". And of course, this type of acronym necessitates the use of anywhere from 20 to 546 exclamation points and question marks, assorted in random order.

PLZ - when you like, really need someone's help



RSN - Real Soon Now

Oh yes, it will be real soon now. Now just be still for a little bit. The knife? Oh, I was just making some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I know , it is really big and shiny. Now just lay back...that's it...


I wish I could say this wasn't for real, but it is. Don't believe me?

http://www.aim.com/acronyms.adp?aolp=


My fun plans for the day have been ruined by unchecked idiocy. I'm going home.

 

[mustynutz]

Do you remember the first time you to had to go down on a girl? Believe me, I do. That very same girl had recently performed the big nasty on me, my first time in that department as well; and when it's your first time, it feels like Miss Jamison herself is working her magic no matter how bad the girl really is. Consequently, I knew that when the time came, I would have to return the favour. I just didn't think it would be so soon.


The year was 1999. At the age of 16, I was still in a stage where my brain beat my penis in every chess match they played. One head was constantly outwitting the other.

It was a warm, sunny, April afternoon. School was done for the day, and Jessie and I were at my house, playing some N64. I remember it well because I was whooping her ass in Mario Kart, and she kept complaining incessantly.

Jessie: This game is so stupid
Me: you're clearly just saying that because you're losing
Jessie: Whatever. It's still stupid.
"You're stupid," I muttered.
Jessie: What?
Me: I said you're stupendous.
She rolled her eyes; started looking at my room.
Jessie: why do you have so many posters? Superman, X-men. What the hell is the justice league?
It was my turn to roll my eyes.
Me: if you don't know I'm not going to tell you.
Jessie: when are you going to grow up? You act like you're 12 years old. Comic books are stupid.

She was tearing me up inside! But I held it in. My penis didn't let me say anything. I continued to manouver my way through "Rainbow Road."

Suddenly, she turns to me.

Jessie: Ok, lets do it.
Me: do what?
Jessie: well, actually I shouldn't say, "lets do it." More like, you do it.
Me: do WHAT?
Jessie: you know...go down on me
Me: Oh....oh! What, now?
Jessie: what you don't want to?
Me: no it's not that. It's just that...you know...I thought I'd have some more prep time.
Jessie: Prep time? What would you practice on?
I cleared my throat.
Me: Ahem. Never mind.

She moved further back on the bed, stretched out her legs.

J: you know what you're doing right?
U: Pshh. Of course I do. What is this, amateur hour?

In actuality I had no clue. I tried to think back to what some of my older friends had told me about this monumental deed.

Friend 1: you gotta start with the foreplay man. Get that engine purring. That way, when you're doing the grunt work, she's halfway to the finish line.

Friend 2: Now, what you wanna do see, is write the alphabet with your tongue. Once you get to "Z", she'll be right back down to "O" you know what I mean? She'll be like putty in your hand dude.

"Well" I thought. "Here goes nothing."

We start fooling around for a bit and a couple of minutes later, I get to the final destination. Zero hour. I didn't want to mess this up, so I start singing to myself softly as I work.

Me: a, b, c, d, e, f, g....
She pushes herself up.
Jessie: what...what are you doing?
Me: you know...pleasuring you
Jessie: Not that. Why are you singing the ABC's?
Me: I'm uh...writing the alphabet with my tongue.
Jessie: well stop it. It feels like I just got home, and Rover is licking me at the door. I thought you said Indians were good at this.

What?

Me: Are..are you questioning my heritage?
Jessie: No, I...
Me: lie back down J.
J: what?
Me: I SAID LIE THE FUCK DOWN!
She squealed; and lied down.

It was on now. Questioning my heritage and shit. We invented the Kamasutra bitch! You better believe there was going to be an orgasm today.

I dove back in, still not knowing what I was doing, but working ferociously like it was an Olympic sport and I was racing against the clock.

A few minutes later her hips started bucking.

Jessie: ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod
Me: what?
Jessie: itscomingitscomingitscomingitscomingitscoming

Victory was mine. I started getting excited.
Me: who's the dog now bitch!! Who's the dog now!!
Jessie: I'm a dog! I'm a dog!
Me: SAY MY MOTHERFUCKING NAME!!
Jessie: I LOVE YOU SPIDERMAN!!!

And before I could say "Spidawho?" she climaxed; only at the last second she turned her body and kicked me in the side of head from sheer reflex.

******************************************

Half an hour later, we're downstairs, watching TV. I turn to her.

Me: Lemme ask you something
Jessie: anything sweetie!
Me: why...why did you scream out "I love you Spiderman"?
Jessie: I didn't do that.
Me: Yes, you did. You screamed it.
She sighed.
Jessie: I'm sorry Max. I don't know why I did that. It's just that, you know, while you were doing it, I kept thinking of Spiderman. Maybe it was the posters. For some reason it got me all bothered.
Me: No.Fucking.Way. Oh my God, don't move. I'll be right back.



I ran upstairs to my room, shuffled around my closet for a bit. Ah, there it was.




I gotta tell ya...it got real easy after that.

 

[mustynutz]

My job affords me the opportunity to observe the species Homo Sapiens in its natural habitat on a fairly regular basis... the office. I've noticed that people seem to fall into a number of different patterns, and I'm trying to classify them.

My idea is that when you go to apply for a job, there should be a law which says that the prospective employer must disclose the "Annoying Coworker Index Factor" before tendering any offer of employment. Perhaps you can help me... I'd like to find a system by which they can be rated... perhaps the Archetype Factor (how annoying is this kind of person) and then a rating of 1-10 (How bad is this person on this scale). So an "Angry Grandmother" who is an 8 on the scale has an end total of 16. Maybe if they fit into a second archetype as well you add them together (only counting half for the second one). So if they "Angry Grandmother" of rating 8 is tacked on with the "Brown Noser" of rating 5 (AF 1.0) you end up with a grand total of 18.5

Here's what I've come up with so far, feel free to add on.

The Angry Grandmother - Archetype Factor 2.0 (Really Annoying)

This worker is really upset by the fact that technology has left her behind. She resents everyone who is younger and gets paid more than her, and is bitter about it. Aside from criticizing whenever possible, she will deliberately pick on bad personal habits as though she had the right to say something. (i.e. Comb Your Hair, stop picking at your cut)

The Buddy - AF 1.25

This guy will come into your office (or cubicle, or whatever) and regale you constantly with the latest stories, jokes, news items, or things he's heard. It seems that he spends more time in your office than in his own. This can be really annoying if you're tyring to post to Ubersite.

The Buddy Mark 2 - AF 1.5

This species of co-worker is like The Buddy in all respects except that he can't remember what stories he's told you so he tells them over and over and over again.

The Brown Noser - AF 1.0

This seemingly normal co-worker waits until management is around to show his true colors. Out of nowhere, this character will suddenly act like he's accomplishing great things when the boss shows up, making everyone else look bad. In addition, he will invariably compliment the boss on something even though everyone including the boss knows that it's bullshit.

The Certified Professional - AF 1.0

This guy is fresh from Microsoft, A+, or Oracle training and he thinks he's god's gift to the tech world. Present him with a real life problem and you can strike this weakling down almost instantly. He still probably makes more than you do.

The Company Man - AF 1.25

This person pays the same lip service to loving the company that you work for as everyone else - only he really believe it. Which can be annoying when management isn't around.

The Incompetent - AF 1.25

'nuff said.

The Incompetent Nutcase - AF 1.5

This person can have any number of different issues, which when added to stupidity means that you end up having to do your work AND theirs. You don't have the heart to get them fired, because they'd probably commit suicide. Some schools of thought have the Incompetent Nutcase in the same genus because of the excessive amount of time you must hear about their personal life.

Anyway, that's the people who are within 50 feet of me... I'll think of more I'm sure but feel free to add your own.

 

[mustynutz]

To live in constant fear is to not live at all. Life consists of everything that has happened, now, and everything that will happen. The past is our teacher so that we can make decisions today to ensure hope for the future. No matter how confident one is or how much one knows, no one knows the future. This creates fear. Fear of change, fear of failure, and fear of the unknown. I have chosen this public forum to confront my one true fear: ice water.

The problem with ice water is that it is so common and so simple as to lull those it encounters into complacency. Trust me when I say I have not been lulled. I am here today to speak the truth: ice water, and its ominpresence in American life, is no accident and is in fact an iron fist wielded by the powers that be to maintain a firm controlling grasp on the modern working class.

Everyone knows what I am referring to, though none will admit it. Let me paint you this picture... You are in any one of a billion common nameless restaurants which serve water "by default". I'm talking about the places where you are seated with a menu and a server brings ice water to the table before you have even spoken a word outside of "smoking" or "nonsmoking".

Means to creating mass public fear step 1: Lack of options

Assuming that, like most working class Americans, you work too hard for bum pay, you will be thirsty. The light glistening off the water and the lack of any other cool refreshing beverage means that you will drink the water.

Means to creating mass public fear step 2: Irresistable temptation

As you drink, you eventually reach the ice stability threshold. This is the point where the level of the liquid water has lowered below the level of the solid ice. This point, this god forsaken hell inducing point, is where you now know the true meaning of the word fear. You need just one last drop of water to quench your thirst, but you know that if you raise the bottom of the glass by even one more degree, the pile of ice in the bottom of the glass will tumble out, hit your teeth, fall on the table, and result in cold water spilling in your lap.

Means to creating mass public fear step 3: Looming sense of inevitable punishment

Throughout history, the weapon most used to oppress the masses has not been force, it has been the fear of force. The 2nd amendment of the US constitution was written specifically to ensure that no American would fear "arms" by guaranteeing each American the right to bear his own "arms". The modern political machine has all but repealed the 2nd amendment under the guise of "saving the children", while at the same time stockpiling weapons for its own use. Why are there so few politicians willing to speak up to protect the 2nd amendment? Because it is in the modern political machine's best interest to remain silent. Why are there so few politicians willing to address the Ice Water Issue? The answer should be obvious.

The problem is not that this weapon exists. The problem is that the use of this weapon has gone unchecked since the introduction of restaurants to the Western world, thereby creating a state of constant fear in the American populace... a fear written about in 1984 and Fahrenheit 451... a fear brought to life in modern times by the "War" on drugs and most recently the "War" on terrorism.

I am here to tell you that you don't have to be afraid anymore! Don't give in to the tyrants! It is our blood, not theirs, that is shed on the battlefield of daily life! It is our laps, not theirs, upon which the spilled water falls! Confront those who wield power over you and you shall be free! The next time you go to a restaurant, if the busboy brings you water with ice, throw it in his face, stand on the table, and shout at the top of your lungs:

Give me iceless water or give me death!

 

[mustynutz]

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