Clareified

Where does the good go

Archive for May, 2011

I can’t decide which video is the cutest, so…

Wednesday, May 11th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

YOU’RE. WELCOME. Also, I’m loving how this “impromptu appreciation of people I know” blogging has revealed who doesn’t read my blog. #rude


Photo SharingVideo SharingPhoto Printing


Photo SharingVideo SharingPhoto Printing


Photo SharingVideo SharingPhoto Printing

Comedy on call

Tuesday, May 10th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

Gawrsh, I became so used to using my mandatory break to write posts about “Miss Lewinsky,” (Get it? I was gonna say “that woman,”) that I find myself flumoxxed. Is that how one spells that word? It seems a little porny. Flumoxxxed 2 Starring Dirk Diggler as pizza guy number 1.

I’ve never seen a porno, yet my impression is that there’s always a pizza guy and a plumber. Is that correct? Come on, you can tell me. I don’t judge. #liesDawntells

How do people get pornos now anyways, is it all internet and cable? I know blockbuster rebukes them. Wow, this post has lost its wiggity wiggity way.

Instead of writing about people who make me mad, I decided I’d write about people who make me laugh. In this case, one Ugarles, with whom I had a hilarious text conversation today about my mom getting hasseled by the police last night when she told them she didn’t hear the guy getting shot to death outside her building. And an equally funny, unbloggable conversation.

Actually, lately I’ve been using Ugarles as my own personal writing staff for my own amusement. During the whole supermoon hubbub, I decided there had to be a funny “if you get caught between the supermoon and New York City” joke. I couldn’t think of one, but the setup line made me laugh, so I sent it to Ugarles for him to finish it and he TOTALLY did in like five seconds! Wait, lemmee go find it.

Me: If you get caught between the supermoon and new york city, the best that you can do is…

Ugarles: Hope that Russell Brand doesn’t piss on your grave.

And then the day after President Obama had the “bin laden is dead” press conference, I tried to do a Kanye West interrupts Taylor Swift tweet like “Mr. President, imma let you finish, but John Wilkes Booth had the greatest assasination of all time.” But that just wasn’t quite up to @realdawnsummers’ super high standards.

O_O

(Ooh, did you guys see Keith Olbermann and the Sports Guy, Bill Simmons’ twitter beef? Simmons tweeted that the Lakers dynasty just made the left turn at Dealey Plaza…” And Olby called him tacky for mocking President Kennedy’s murder. Then Simmons called Olby a hack on a bootleg TV station and then Olby said “ooh tough talk coming from a guy with a *podcast* buuurrrrnnnn.)

Anyway, so I outsourced the Faux Kanye tweet to Ugarles:

Me: Complete this kanye tweet: President Obama, imma let you finish, but…

Ugarles: …you know what? I’ll just let you finish. You just had someone shot in the head.”

Hahahaha

Ugarles funny.

And for no reason at all, here’s a picture of Sidney riding a “New York City horsey”:

image

Awww crap

Monday, May 9th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

The crackwhore apologized to me. Now I suppose I must desist hostilities or I’m the asshole. O_o Also, should probably learn her real name.

Hmmm

Monday, May 9th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

Got a job offer for more money per hour, but it’s only for three-four weeks.

Happy Mother’s Day

Sunday, May 8th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

To all the moms in the Clareiverse. Your brilliant and beautiful children are lucky to have you!

Because I’ll look back on this and…um…laugh?

Friday, May 6th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

So, the woman that opens up the office just kinda generally gets there before 7. Sometimes 6:40, sometimes 6:45, etc.

I try to get there as soon as it’s open, so I can be Audi 5000 as soon as possible. (Do the kids still say Audi 5000?)

Of course, I have to time my arrival so that it’s after the lady with the keys, otherwise I’m chilling at 6:40 AM and not getting paid for it. Not awesome.

So I aim for 6:55. This generally gets me there between 6:50 and 7:03. The last few days I’ve been nailing the 6:50. So, I sign in 6:50, cause the computer rounds up anyway. The key lady signs in 6:40, 6:30, whatever she does. One time this other lady beat me and she signed in 6:47. Honestly, like I said, at week’s end it DOESN’T EVEN MATTER.

Sure enough, I get in at 6:50 and sign in accordingly. At 8:10 when Douchezilla strolls in, she knocks on my door and says “Dawn, the office is not open till 7. I know Lucy gets here a little earlier to open, but you can’t start till 7.”

O_O

Dude. Whatever, right. I suppress my gag and eye rolling reflexes and the urge to say “oh please go report me for being early!”

And carry on about my day. Yesterday, I also discovered that despite my computer issues, I’m still working faster than everyone else on the project. Since I have decided I will no longer speak to this woman, whenever I move to a new matter, I leave her a note (dated with time) saying: I finished x,y and z. And sign it.

“Suck on that, loser,” is left implied.

This afternoon, she bursts into my office and goes “Dawn, did you take my pen when you left your note?”

She had wide, glaring accusing eyes. I stood up, snatched my pen off my desk and said “No. I wrote the note with this pen.”

I was seriously ready to Fight. Her.

My officemate steps between us and goes “I’m sorry, Crackwhore, it was me.” He gives her back her pen.

I am still standing. She says “oh, I’m sorry.”

“Your apology is accepted,” I reply breathing straight fire from my nose and ears.

She starts play “hitting” my officemate with the pen.
“Don’t do that again! Tee hee.”

I turn the volume up on my podcast.

Operation “Infect with bedbugs” is a GO!

Wait, unless Crystal’s got something better!

So, yeah…

Thursday, May 5th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

That stupid motherfucking asshole crack whore fucktard reported me to HR today.

So yesterday, I told countess von fuckwad that my computer images weren’t showing. She sighed and cut her eyes at me like how dare I deign to breathe the same air as her, let alone speak to her.

She finally gets off her throne to check, sees the problem and is all “well, try closing the program.”

“I did that. Twice and rebooted it,” I say sweetly.
“I don’t know what to tell you then. Sometimes it happens like that. Just use the text view option.”

I think this was before her whole warning shit, so I was still fairly pleasant.

Anyway, I spend the rest of yesterday and most of today in text viewer. The case manager randomly comes by and he’s all looking at my screen and is all “why does that look so weird”?

I tell him my image viewer doesn’t work. He goes and asks Princess of Stickupherasstopia why not. She says “oh, I thought it had corrected itself. Why didn’t you tell me, Dawn.”

“Um. I did. You told me to use text viewer till it sorts itself out.”

“Well, not a whole day. I will call the vendor.”

You. Cocksucking. Motherfucking, hell beast.

She makes the call, they remote whatever my conputer and twenty minutes later it’s fixed.

She then makes this “announcement,” that if you are having problems which make you unable to do your job, you should tell her about it immediately.

Eye. Fucking. Roll.

So anyway, I get called into the office like twenty minutes ago by the guy who interviewed me. He is very nice about it and says he knows she’s difficult and he doesn’t want me to quit yadda yadda, but he can’t ignore her since she took the time to complain about it, etc.

I tell him my side of it using as many synonyms for “pyscho motherfucking bitch” as I can think of.

7 it turns out.

Anyway, he says this wasn’t a formal talk and kind of implied he didn’t want her to know he spoke to me.

I however, so want to go up to her and be all “thanks for warning me yesterday before you said anything to HR. That was real decent of you and I really hope not to do anything that will necessitate you having to go to HR about me.”

And then see what her stupid face does.

I also kind of want to hire an actor to date her and propose to her and then dump her at the altar.

Ooh, or have her framed for murder.

Ruined. I want her life in tatters. I want her face to be set on fire.

I can’t even remember the last time I felt this much pure rage.

Oh man, she better hope I don’t win the lottery tomorrow.

Aaaaaaarrrrrrgghhhhhhh!!!

WHHHHOOOOORRRREEEEEE!!!

I was clearly meant to be a mob princess like Nicole Kidman in Dogville. I need a staff on hand for situations like these !

Me plus new job equals frowny face

Wednesday, May 4th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

I hate defending myself. As a general principle, I won’t do it. This does not come in handy in professional situations.

I started a new job two Mondays ago. It’s supposed to last two years, there’s health benefits and vacation time, plus, I still get paid by the hour. So, naturally  I got off on the wrong foot with my supervisor right away.

I had a dental appoinment scheduled for that Monday. I made it weeks before I even knew about the job. Of course, when I accepted the position, I rescheduled the dentist for Tuesday. Well, it turns out they wanted us to do more training on Tuesday, so I approached the supervisor on Monday afternoon and asked if I could stay late that Monday or come in very early Tuesday for the training because I had this appointment which I already  rescheduled blah blah blah.

This chick gives me my own patented blank stare and says “training starts at nine tomorrow.” And continues staring, saying nothing further.
Alrighty then.
Next day, I, of course, leave my training materials at home and have to borrow an office copy. And I have to ask her for it and suffer the judgmental staring AGAIN.
Awesome.
The day after that, I am in bright and early with my own materials and working away.
I do not turn on the lights cause I don’t like them and I was alone in the office. I have in my earphones, so I don’t hear when chick comes in.
“What are you doing here in the dark”?
(There are huge windows and it was 8 in the morning, so “dark,” firmly belongs in quotes.)
I say something about “oh, it’s cooler with the lights off, but feel free to turn them on.”
She goes off on me about how she knows she can turn them on and they won’t tolerate people sleeping in the office.
Oh. Kay.
Freee. Eek.
Whatever. I smile and nod, put back on my headphones and get back to work.
A week later, yesterday, I finally go to my dental appointment. The office is open from 7 am to 8 pm and we can work up to ten hours every day. There’s a sign in sheet and you record your arrival time and any breaks. There are no rules about when you can take breaks or anything, so long as you don’t work more than 10 hours. That’s what we were told during that extra training Tuesday.
Eyeroll.
So I get in at 7:15 and sign out at 9:30 for my dental appointment. I return at 10:30 and sign back in accordingly.
When I get back, she asks me to step outside with her.
Um. Okay.
She reads me the RIOT act about not telling her I would be gone for an extended amount of time.
O_o An hour?
So I was like “oh, I thought we just needed to sign out for lunch? I didn’t know we also had to let you know.”
She storms off.
I go back to my desk.
Today, she comes in to my office and asks my officemate to leave and informs me -her body literally shaking from rage- that she’s frustrated with having to deal with me. That 9 oclock is not a lunch hour, that I left my materials at home and that my sitting around in the dark would not be further tolerated and this would serve as my formal warning. Anything else, she would have to report me to HR and I would be asked to leave.
I was speechless!
She. Craaaaazzzzzyyyyy.
So I was like “okay.”
And she goes “okay? That’s it? You don’t have anything to say?”
I quickly determine that “well, in my defense, you are clearly batshit crazy,” would probably not go over well.
I simply stare her dead in the face and shake my head.
She walks out in a huff.
I add her name to the list and buy a lottery ticket on my way home.
And that’s my awesome story of the day!

Apropos of nothing

Wednesday, May 4th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

Next time I’ll be braver,
I’ll be my own savior,
Standing on my own two feet,

I won’t let you close enough to hurt me,
No, I won’t ask you, you will just desert me,
I can’t give you what you think you gave me,
It’s time to say goodbye to turning tables

The American President

Tuesday, May 3rd, 2011 by Dawn Summers

The White House is a fishbowl. It always has been and probably always will be, but I’ve never seen the biography of a President so persistently poked and prodded as that of President Obama. Never mind that, with TWO autobiographies published before he even took the highest office in the land, where he ADMITS to cocaine use for jeebus sake, no President has probably been as transparent as this man. At 30 he wasn’t drunk driving cars into ditches, but yet he gets derided for “community organizing.” And yet our press, in the name of the AMERICAN PEOPLE ask the AMERICAN PRESIDENT to “just show us one more time that you are in fact American.” Then ask some dude with a Russian wife, if that’s “good enough”?

Read the whole thing.