OrganiSed Chaos » FFS!

WTF moment #485

anonymum — Thu, 14 Jan 2010 20:26:36 +0000

Every week Stumble Upon sends me an email with sites they recommend based on my likes and dislikes.
This morning I received the current weeks email from them, and included is a site that captured human ovulation on camera.
After going through my likes and dislikes, I see no indication of my interest in reproduction at all, let alone looking at the insides of some woman who had a camera stuck up, or in, her!
WTF???

Hey you – dick!

anonymum — Wed, 16 Dec 2009 21:07:16 +0000

ETA: When I called one of the applicants to advise they weren’t successful with their application, the first words he said were “Why the fuck not!!??”

Explains a lot about the person doesn’t it??

At work we currently have a vacancy.
It’s not the worst job in the place.
Yes, it’s hot, dirty and physical, but it pays a reasonable wage, plus penalty rates.
Now given the nature of the job, we don’t need a brain surgeon, just someone prepared to work hard and have some semblance of common sense.
Not too hard to fill the position you would think?
Hmmm….my thoughts exactly.
Apparently it’s not quite that simple.
I appreciate the economy here in NQ is a little slow, and there are many out of work, but I certainly didn’t think I would need to wade through 86 applications, however we do what we need to do.
Here are a few little hints and tips for aspiring applicants.
If your email says please find my resume attached, then attach it! I know there could be times when you did attach it and something may have gone wrong, but let me assure you, when I call you to ask if you could resend in order for you to have as good a chance as the next person, it’s not in your best interests to suggest I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to reading an email.
Strike 1!
If you apply for a job, you could perhaps forgive the person receiving said application, assuming you actually want the job.
When the person making the decision regarding who gets an interview rings to suggest a mutually acceptable time for that interview, it does not go down well to start the conversation by rattling off the times you can and can’t make it because of your social life.
I know it’s Christmas, but if you’re unemployed and want that to change, it’s in your interest to fit in with me, not the other way around.
If you’re not prepared to make an effort to get to an interview, you would perhaps forgive me for being concerned about the effort you would make to not only get to work, but actually do your job once you got there.
Strike 2!
The best is yet to come though, my friends.
This is the best piece of advise I can give you when applying for any job.
DO NOT address the person receiving your application as “Hey you”
My name was on the advert, use it dickwad!
I got not one word further than those 2 words on your cover letter, because your application hit the recycle bin with a resounding thud the minute I saw the words in question.
Strike 3, you’re out!
WTF were these 3 dicks thinking when they did the above mentioned things?
Clearly they weren’t thinking at all.
Maybe applicants should think about this?
For every job advertised, there are at least 50 people who apply, giving employers quite a good choice.
Yes, I need to fill the position, but I don’t need you when there are people smart enough to know how to speak to, and act, towards a prospective employer.

Strike out

anonymum — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 21:09:55 +0000

I’m a mad keen baseball fan, as is Mark.
When in Boston this year we went to see the Boston Red Sox at Fenway Park, and had THE best night, and can’t wait to do it again, which we will.
Now, the World Series is the pinnacle of things to win in baseball.
The Holy Grail if you like.
Ticket prices are insane, yet still people pay for them without a second thought, and I will admit nothing would please me more than to see a World Series game {preferably with the Sox playing, of course}
My problem is that I have an issue with the amount I would need to pay, in order to achieve this goal.
Pay?
Hmmm.
In this case I’m not sure pay is the right word.
Perhaps barter would be a more appropriate word do you think?
Whilst I admire this woman’s loyalty to her team, I do need to ask what the hell she was thinking when she tried this little stunt.
The biggest problem it created for her is she tried to “barter” with a cop.
Maybe someone needs to tell her that in order to hit a home run, one must hit the ball right on the sweet spot of the bat, not let it go through to the catcher!!!

High drama

anonymum — Sat, 26 Sep 2009 03:41:49 +0000

I’m not much into dramatics.
Not seriously anyway.
Yeah, I can do the whole “over the top” shit, but it’s very tongue in cheek.
I don’t get drama queens, be they male or females.
What is it about drama that so many people almost aspire to be embroiled in the middle of whatever the perceived “drama” is?
There are many I know who actually look for it, and when they find it, revel in it!
WTF is with that?
Why would you try to surround yourself with that type of shit?
I don’t get it.
Can someone enlighten me?
Please?
Help me understand why some want to turn something small into an event bigger than the cast of Ben fucking Hur, then go on, and on, and on, and on about it?

Surely it’s easier to shrug and get on with life?

The error of my ways

anonymum — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 20:59:04 +0000

Of late I’ve had some interesting situations at work, to say the least.
I’m a manager.
This, naturally, involves staff who report to me.
As it transpires, the staff in question have several “issues” with me.
These are many and varied, and some are the usual issues most of us have with their boss, but others have been quite bemusing.
One of the various grievances aired in recent days is the tone I use when I ask them to do something.
Please note I said ASK, not tell.
I don’t like being TOLD to do anything, thus I refuse to tell anyone else, so if I need something done, I ask.
Now, my interpretation of a manager is someone who does what needs to be done in order to do their job, picks up the slack should we have someone out sick or on leave, is first in, last out, and if needs be, delegates what would be considered smaller, less important tasks to others when pressed for time.
I’ve been working this way for well over 10 years, and until now it’s always worked, for myself and my staff.
How lucky am I, to now have people who are willing to point out where I’ve been going wrong???
It seems these are the errors of my ways.
I need to speak in a tone that is not short, demeaning, intimidating, nor am I to sound as if I’m becoming impatient should I need to ask for something to be done more than once before it happens.
Quote “We’ll get to it when we have time…”
Apparently I should use a more “gentle” tone.
Under no circumstances am I to take any notice of when they come and go from the office, how long they take for lunch, nor query what they do with their time.
Seems they know what their jobs and times are, and I should be content these things happen as a matter of course.
Having said that, what prompted this raft of grievances was me voicing my dissatisfaction over an incident where one of them stood in the store talking to a former staff member for 40 minutes, so you could forgive me for not taking any comfort in their assurances I have no need to take note of their times.
The best is yet to come however.
I was given a list, yes a list, of the things they think need to happen, in order to make the workplace a warm, fuzzy place.
This list included, but was not limited to, supplying morning tea once or twice a week, where they can down tools and take around 45 mins to an hour, so we could have a group session and air our problems.
I should give them a copy of my job description so as they have a better understanding of why there are times I need to work on weekends. Surely my job can’t be that difficult? {I need to add here, my job description runs to 28 pages!!! You could forgive me for saying it’s something of a complicated position. Please?}
I should let them know where I’m going, what I’m doing and when I’ll be back, should I ever have need to leave the office, because they need to know in case someone rings for me.
There were other little bits and pieces, mainly relating to me, basically, not managing them in any way, shape or form, because {apparently} they know exactly what they need to do, and feel they’ve been there long enough that they should be allowed that freedom.
I shit you not.
This has been my week, and people wonder why I drink?
Wonder no more my friends.
Wonder. no. fucking. more!

Do you remember when…

anonymum — Sat, 27 Jun 2009 02:27:34 +0000

Milk came in a real glass bottle rather than feral plastic or waxed cartons they come in these days, and you could actually have it delivered?
When bread was made of what it’s meant to be made of and didn’t have 99 different preservatives, colourings and flavourings added to it?
Being politically correct was NOT the first consideration on your mind before you opened your mouth to speak?
Gay was a word used when you were happy, not as an intended reference to someone’s sexuality? Really, who gives a damn? People need to do what makes them happy regardless of what it is, and that others feel the need to put a label on every damned thing gets clean up my nose!
Sorry, I digress, that’s a post all of it’s own!
People had respect for those older than them, and didn’t see them as objects of amusement or a source of quick, easy income because they tend to be easier to mug?
Going for a walk at night was something you could do without being concerned for your welfare and health?
Going about your employment was something you could do without worrying about getting shot?
A story such as the one above made more headlines than the death of someone who whilst brilliant in a musical sense, had quite lost his grip on reality {assuming he ever really had it}
In relation to the above, I feel for MJ’s family, but mostly I feel for those poor little kids who really have no idea of the world that awaits them, and the way the media will drag their father through the mill for the rest of their days, and the fact that they will never be able to have any privacy, and if some have their way, dignity either
More kids went outside to play in the sunshine and make mud pies and daisy chains than those were inside with the latest gaming console?
Teachers were allowed to comfort kids when they hurt themselves instead of needing to just look as they do now, because they fear allegations of inappropriate behaviour regardless of the circumstances?
A doctor would come to your house to see someone because they were too ill to get out of bed?
Fresh fruit and vegetables looked and tasted just like what they were meant to?
Fast food was fish and chips as a treat on Friday night rather than the whole fucking menu plan?
People held doors open for others when they were but a few steps behind them?
People would stand for a pregnant woman to have a seat?
Young people would help elderly people rather than poke fun and laugh at them?
People wore their pants above their arse crack?
When you could understand what the singers words were, and they played actual music as opposed to doof doof doof!
I remember all of the above, and damn, how nice it would be should we have the ability to get them back.
I’m tired, I’m cranky, I need a holiday and I’m just fucking over it.
I guess it shows huh?

Get over it

anonymum — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 10:47:27 +0000

There are some people in this world need to get a life.

Do they have so little to be worried about that they can make something of this?

Apparently, once you’ve been a kids performer, you’re not allowed to act the same as any other consensual adult and do with your life, what you will.

When you do have the audacity to try doing just that, the morality police stick their 2c worth in.

This has been discussed from one end of Australia to another today.

My opinion?

Go for it girl!

If I had a body like that I’d be flaunting it to all and sundry on the front of a magazine too, make no mistake.

In closing, I do have a question though.

What the hell would kids who like Hi 5 be doing reading a fucking magazine like Ralph anyway?

I repeat, some people need to get a life.

Quickly!

Justice at it’s worst

anonymum — Sun, 22 Mar 2009 21:00:21 +0000

I thought the law here in Oz was the pits until I read this story.

Vomit inducing bullshit

I don’t know what to say.

Gobsmacked.

Stunned.

Outraged.

Nauseous.

All of the above.

This is apparently justice for a young girl imprisoned for 24 years by her own father, sexually abused and made to bear 7 of his children {effectively her brothers and sisters} one of which he left to die for fear of being exposed for what he is.

I almost despair of a race that has his type in it, and I despair totally of the “justice” system that allows this to happen.

People wonder why I drink.

Check the story and let me know if I need to bring in some extra booze, and an arrival time would help too.

Achmed the terrorist

anonymum — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 23:23:38 +0000

That’s who I look like in my passport photo!

FFS, how do they do it?

I hate having my photo taken at the best of times, and maybe that comes through, who knows, but it seems to me every time a passport pic gets done, it’s always THE worst pic you ever saw.

Unless it’s a drivers license, because they’re just as bad.

Do they trawl the community for the most inept person they can find, or maybe it’s part of the key selection criteria for the job??

I can see the ad now.

WANTED

THE most useless photographer ever born, to take passport and license photos.
Must have the eye of a blind man for focusing and be able to make people look as if they belong behind bars.
No experience required, however good timing would be an advantage, because it is essential to ensure a person is blinking as the photo is taken.
Debating skills could also be useful in order to argue with the subject when they demand another pic be taken, as we are not allowed to do this.
Determination would be advantagous in this area.

It’s a photo. I have an 8 year old granddaughter that could do better than some of these fucking morons.

How badly do I want to take that camera and shove it up this bloke’s arse, you ask??

VERY BADLY!!!

Before anyone asks, NO, I will NOT be posting the pic.

Those we’re going to see may, just MAY, see it once we’re there, but other than that, only customs will have the {dubious} pleasure.

Premature erabbitation

anonymum — Sun, 01 Feb 2009 08:19:51 +0000

Today was my weekend.
Yes, I know there are ordinarily 2 days in a weekend, but life has not been ordinary of late, so only having one day seems to just fit right in!!
Now, in order to understand the intrinsic nature of this post, there are a few little items of note that you should be made aware of.
1. It’s been raining solid for almost 3 weeks, and I’m over it! Seriously over it.
Yes, that’s life in the tropics, I know.
For the brilliant, balmy weather, we have a wet season for anything up to 3 months.
This is our 5th summer here, and it’s the only one that has ever come close to having what is a true wet season, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it, now does it??
2. Between Tuesday morning and last night I have worked a total of around the 70 hours mark, so I may be a little tetchy, with a fuse around the size that would be the throw away part of a 6 week old baby boys circumcision. Maybe I’m just irrational, who knows???
3. What was a tropical low off the coast is now being referred to as tropical cyclone Ellie. Not a big cyclone though, only expected to be a category one, so it’s more piss and wind than anything else.
So.
In order to survive, one needs food, so after a Skype call, an unexpected phone call {turns out the phone isn’t dead, it was only the plug had come lose from the wall} doing the washing and having a shower, it was time to enter that entertaining little place known as the supermarket.
First stop, the meat section, spy what looks to be a nice little boneless pork roast, that will do very nicely, thank you very much, mother for the rabbits.
Next stop, the vegie section for pumpkin, onions, plus potatoes, sweet and otherwise.
Sweet ones were not a problem, couple of nice little golden ones will be fine. Onto the others.
At this point, please refer to my third little item of note above.
Do you know, I managed to procure the last 5 potatoes in captivity at Woolworths in Townsville?
Yep! People have heard the word cyclone, can’t hear anything else, and of course they need to go and get enough food, water and gas supplies to sustain a small army platoon in the event of disaster, and, naturally, buying 10 kilos of potatoes will help towards that cause!
Now, how exactly one is meant to cook these potatoes should the power go off as is normal in a cyclone??? Well, that little answer eludes for the time being.
Anyway, I grabbed the spuds and threw them out of sight before a fucking manic housewife spied me with them and decided to mug me there and then.
It was at this point I thought I could see what was coming. I was right!!
Not one bottle of water to be found, no UHT milk, tea, coffe, sugar, all basics cleaned off the shelves and 2 little old ladies almost ready to scratch each others eyes out over the 1 remaining jar of Vegemite!
Sheesh!
Grab a few other little bits and pieces and move along again.
Then, a thought! Need peas!
Gotta have peas!!!
I struggle to eat any sort of roast without peas, preferably frozen ones. I love them.
Hmmm…hope I can get frozen peas or I’ll need to rethink dinner.
Down to the freezer section to appease what could be an impending melt down, and PHEW!!! Lots of peas, so I grab a packet, and this happened to be the last thing we need, so it’s time for the checkout.
As I turn away, that’s when I spy them!!!
What’s that you say???
What did I spy???
Well, in the words of a good blogging buddy of mine, Jesus Krispies, Christ in a sidecar, and gag me with a maggot.
E.A.S.T.E.R. E.G.G.S
I kid you not!!!
Large as life for all and sundry to drool over.
E.A.S.T.E.R E.G.G.S????
Give me a break!!! It’s February 1st and they have Easter stuff out????
FFS, the credit card hasn’t had time to cool off from Christmas yet!!!
We haven’t even had the feeding frenzy that normally surrounds Valentine’s Day, and already Bugs has been moulded in chocolate and wrapped in foil!!!????
I came straight home, put the roast on, groceries away and have been drinking bourbon since!
Someone wake me up on July 15th if you would?
I’ll need to pack by then!!