Very important info if you have pets...
The link goes to a whole page of news stories about how this company's dog food has killed 20+ dogs and has a like number ill or near death from some mold-based toxin called alfatoxin. It's in the corn they use to make the food. It's sold nationally and is under recall. I saw the news article on here earlier when I got home from the horse farm this morning and wrote out the info, including the URL to the company itself, and took a copy to both my boss at the horse farm and the people who own this farm. Then, tonight, my horse farm boss(es) came in to eat at the restaurant and, sure enough, the Mrs. had taken the info to a friend of hers and there it was... that very brand of food.SO... I may have saved a life.... *big assed grin* (Also, while I'm on the subject, avoid using any products from Hartz Mountain, except for maybe toys or something. Their flea shit especially can kill your animals, too... AND THEY KNOW IT. They don't care, so fuck 'em. Find another brand for anything medical like that, ya know?) Meanwhile... yeah, I can see where working at the restaurant "too often" could cause me to... quit under the right circumstances. Not that I'm gunna... yet, but some of the girls there wanna play the "stick the new girl with alla the shit jobs" game.
Guess what?
Homey here don't play that shit.
Especially not for the chump change I'm making there so far.
I mean, shitsakes, if I was making $80 a night or anything even remotely close to that, I'd be more'n happy to sweep, mop, vacuum, roll silverware, yadda, yadda, friggin' yadda.
BUT... I can make just about as much at the horse farm in two hours that I make at the restaurant in tips in 5 or more hours, soooo... they don't wanna pull this shit.
Especially not this (PMS) week.
I most definitely would walk if it came down to it.
I'm just sayin'...
*goober face* Oh man... last night...
Last night some brainless dickhead made a fatal error in judgement. He fucked with me.
In a pickup.
Driving.
(Or what HE thinks is driving.... asshole.) I was at the restaurant. Left there at 6pm to take Eric to the bank before 7pm.
Did that, dropped Eric back off here and started back to work. I get about a half a mile from here and outta nowhere, here comes this ve-HICKLE, zooming up behind me and he rode my fuckin' bumper all the way back to work. At each intersection/stop sign, he'd let me get going, then screech tires and zoom up onto my ass again. Fuckwad...
As I turned into the restaurant parking lot, he roars past me on the left and goes around behind the building and parks at the back door to the gas station part. I park out front and get outta my car and, whether it was a good idea or not, I went right, into the gas station, not left, into the restaurant. Deep in my brain, under the rage, I could hear my semi-sane self say, "Oh shit. Here we go..." I go in and ask the girl behind the counter, "Uummm... are y'all havin' some kind of emergency in here or anything?"
It was patently obvious that they weren't.
She says, "An emergency? Noooo. Why?"
I said, "Because the asshole driving that truck right there tailgated me and drove like a complete IDIOT all the way here from where I live..." Then, I looked straight at him. He says, "I did not. And, what did ya slam on yer brakes for? Yer lucky I didn't hit ya in the ass..." Stu-pid fuck-in' mor-on....
On my Gawd. Fuckhole can't even lie worth a damn.
THEN, he got cocky...
Wanna die much, dickhead? After he said that shit, I knew I knew him from somewhere, so I hear myself say, "You work for Larry?"
He says, "Yeah", all snotty.
I said, "Well good.", with a little "fuck you" twitch of my nose and eyes.
He comes back with, "Whatcha gonna do, get me fired?" Come to find out, yeah I am.
But, not from here. I ended the confrontation with "well good" and went back to work.
I knew I'd get his ass and I'm gonna. Asked around here and found out who he is and that he does NOT work here (and therefore has no protection from my wrath whatsoever... *grin*).
He used to work here.
Quit last summer.
Now he's a truck driver for some dipshit around the area. Gotta have a CDL to do that.
Fuck up like that with a CDL, you lose it.
Lose that, lose yer job. "His ass is mine", sayth the Stevie. When I find him (and yes, I am actively looking), I'm getting his tag number, then me and the State Police right down the road are gonna have a nice little convo.
Then, I'm gonna find out who he drives for and let them know what kind of fuckin' asshole he is and that he's gonna be losing his license, so they may wanna go on and hire someone else.
The best part, though, is gonna be watching/hearing him explain himself to a judge...
So, yes, douchebag, I AM "gonna get ya fired"... and then some.
Dick.
(And, if it sounds like I'm actually enjoying this, there's a good reason for that... I am.)
Little cocky punk prick.
I am gonna knock his (teeny, tiny, little mouse) dick in the dirt.
Then, step on it.
Then, grind my foot back and forth for a while.
With my Harley harness boots on.
And... laugh whilst I do it. When I get done with this sonofagotdamnedbitch, he will think twice before he undertakes anymore terrorist tactics on the road.
At least with me. I mean, Jeezus, just because he is what he pisses with doesn't mean I am what I piss with, ya know?
God, I hate kids..... *giggle* Anyway, I've got a house to clean, critters to feed including me and I need to git movin' here, before I get too comfortable sittin' down. Or stiff... Peace...
and
Yappy who nears, y'all...
(or somethin' like that...)
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