My Day in Hell (aka Work)

MOTHERFUCK!!! If you aren't in the mood to listen to big-time bitchin, you'd be better off 'movin-on'...like to J-Fabs very funny post, http://livinlife08.blogspot.com/ (which has certainly been the highlight of my other than fucked day).

Here we go..............my business requires that we are able to be reached 24/7. This is because should we have a customer whose equipment has broken down and they need their plant back up and running, we need to send a service tech out ASAP.

After hours, we transfer the phones to a cell phone, which happens to be my fuckin cell phone. So, if a customer calls at 3:00 fucking AM, my fuckin phone rings. As you may recall from an earlier post, I ain't any fuckin good without coffee when I just wake up and answering my cell at 3:00 AM certainly doesn't allow for that to happen. Oh, I've tried other methods regarding our 24/7 phone number. 1st, I had the phones forwarded to a pager with a fairly lengthy recording, with detailed fuckin instructions, such as: 1. Leave your name, 2. Leave a FUCKIN NUMBER, 3. Leave your FUCKIN EXTENSION TOO!. Some of these fuckin people are about as sharp as bag of wet fuckin mice. You would think these fuckin instructions would be detailed enough. Yeah, one would fuckin think that. I can't tell you how many fuckin times that motherfuckin pager would go off at some ungodly hour only for me to call it back and get the message. I'd then call the dumb-fuck back at the fuckin number HE left only to get "I'm sorry, our office is now closed. Please call back between 8:00-5:00. If you know the persons extension, please enter it now". WTF?? This cocksucker has his plant down, 120 people standing around doin nuthin, gettin paid, and this fucking genius wants to make me guess an extension?? Lets see, how many fuckin combinations are there to any given 2 or 3 digit possibilities? FUCK!! I mean ya know whats going to happen..I don't dare fall back asleep cuz I know this fuckwad is going to call back, sometime, after he doesn't get a return call. Sure enough, 30-45 minutes would go by, and the fuckin pager goes off again. Call it, same fuckin message, no extension, and this time the guys PISSED because, guess what, no one has called his trailer-livin ass back! Anyway, shit like this caused me to go to 'Option 2'.

'Option 2' was to alternate the pager between myself and 3 of my service guys. This lasted about a fuckin month because my service guys have the phone skills of a fuckin doorknob. So, I went to 'Option 3' which is the aforementioned.

This morning, 4:27 AM, cell phones ringing;

Me: (barely audible)....hello?

Customer: Who's this?

Me: .........(irritated by that lack of phone courtesy)....Whoucallin?

Customer: Efen's company.

Me:..Uh..yeah..this is.

Customer: This is 'just spent over 120K buying your equipment' and the fuckin thing is down.

Me: Hmmmm....that's not good

Customer: No shit it ain't good. I need someone NOW.

Me: Uh....can you tell me the problem?

He proceeds which leads me to about 20 other fuckin questions. After I get a clearer picture of the problem, I tell him I can't do anythhing until the manufacturer opens and that isn't until 8:00 AM. Surprisingly he says "Oh, no problem, we have back-up equipment we can run.....I'm leaving at 7:00 but you can call 'Day-time Boss' back..sorry if I woke you...I guess I should have had him call at a better hour". WTF???? Are you fuckin serious?......"sorry IF you woke me"......a "BETTER hour???????" MOTHERFUCK!!!

Don't get me wrong, these customers who are the ones we make our money from and I'll do anything to help out any of them.....just PLEASE use your fuckin head before going to 'Auto Dial!'

Oh.....still trying to get this problem taken care of.....almost 9 1/2 hours later...... stay tuned.

'SV' Bar & Grill

(Elle pretty much knows this place so this will be 'old news' for her;)

For about 10 years I have been going to the same place, damn near every day, for lunch. Close to work and I can get in and out as I see fit. It's a Bar & Grill but I have dubbed it 'SV' as in 'Silicone Valley' as in lots of girls with 'enhancements'.

I am pretty much like Norm on 'Cheers'. I have my own spot at the bar (in which they don't let anyone else sit unless they know I won't be in) and when I walk in they say "EFEN". Unlike Norm, I drink only iced tea (no...I am not a 'recovering', I just cannot drink during the day and still function).

Some of these girls have become 'close' friends, especially those that I have known since the beginning. Getting to know these girls pretty well certainly has its benefits. They know my affinity for boobs and most of them have been kind enough to 'placate' me. Thats what friends do, ya know ;)

I also have made several good friendships with some of the guys there, guys who like me, go there every day. Some are retired, some aren't, but we all share that 'special affinity' ;)

An intro to some of the cast:

Norm (really) : BIG guy, hands as big as a catcher's mitt. Nobody fucks with Norm...at all. Good-natured but has a 'streak'. Used be in the 'construction bidness'. The 'word' is that he has done some 'time' on Federal Charges (no one will ask). When he was younger, he took offense to a Sheriff's deputy calling him 'Fat Boy' during a routine traffic stop. Being the cool-head individual he was, he beat up the deputy, he then drove to the Sheriff's Office and turned himself in. Turns out he grew up with the Sheriff, which I'm certain he knew before turning himself in. Details are sketchy on the events that followed. Fortunately, Norm likes me and appreciates my humor....and I'm very careful it is not at his expense.

Curt: Another BIG guy but who really is a 'Fat Boy'.....and a pussy..and possibly a closet perv. Case in point; A few weeks back we had tornado warnings. He tells us: "My daughter called and said since they don't have a basement, when the sirens went off, she and her husband got into the bathtub. Being the 'typical' father, I asked her if she had any clothes on....hahaha". WTF???? TYPICAL FATHER???? Yeah, typical if you're a fucking whacko! Also he likes to know everybody's business. Basically, a nosey fuck. He ALWAYS tells everyone, even fucking strangers that happen into The Bar to; "Have a Good Day....Drive Carefully....Hope you win on your Lotto ticket".......all that fuckin shit.....if he really cares then he's even more fucked up than I thought, which is a definite possibility. When I get tired of listening to him, I make fun of him. He then gets all quiet and pouts. Fuck him.

Larry: Oldest of the bunch but hilarious. Example: Bartender was in a bad mood one day and was being pretty much a bitch to him, for no particular reason. He told her "Why don't you go back to your double-wide and fry something". LMFAO!! He earned my ever-lasting admiration with that one comment.

Karen: One of the 'guys'. 39 YO, divorced 2x, 3 kids including a 'not-yet-married-just-had-a-baby' 17 YO daughter. 18 YO son just spent 6 months in jail for being in the 'wrong place at the wrong time'....yeah, you always get 6 months for that. The daughter and her 'baby daddy' live with her as well. Menial PT job for him. Not really sure there's great things in the future for that poor child. Oh yeah....Karen has BIG boobs...real...and likes to show them. Not really a girl you'd bring home to meet the parents though.

Tom 'The Cook': A very funny fucker and extremely talented. Can do ALL the 'Looney Tunes' characters PERFECTLY! Also very fucking intelligent. We often play obscure trivia games w/ one another..like 'Actors who wore ascots?' Shit like that. Since we're brighter than the others, this is mostly a 2 person game.

There are some other minor bit players, like 'Telephone Company Brian', who if you'd ask the time will build you a fuckin clock. This guy just won't STFU. He's one of those guys you don't EVER make eye contact with. Oh, and he calls me by my 1st initial, not my name. I'm guessin you have an idea how I feel about that.

There's also 'Longhair Frank'.....who I call fucking 'Mumbles'. This motherfucker can be seated right fuckin next to you (if you fuck up and allow it I mean) and he'll talk for 5 fuckin minutes and you have no fuckin idea what he's saying. Not that I ever listen, but you get the idea. Oh, he's been divorced for like 6 years and every fucking conversation, when you CAN make it out, has to do with him getting fucked in the Divorce Decree. I personally don't give a shit. Glad she fucked him.

There is a relatively new bartender, sister of the owner. Don't know her real well yet but she certainly shows 'promise'. 39, attractive, blonde, tall, big store-bought boobs, and collagen lips (my own astute observation). Anyhow, the other day she was wearing some kind of low-cut, tight, spandex-looking top, green and white striped. I happened to be admiring her stripes when I made out a flower-like outline over her nipple(s), under the top. I stared some more and thats when it hit me.....PASTIES...she's wearing fuckin pasties over her nipples..I mean, WTF? You have boobs 'out-to-there', low top, no bra, and you've suddenly become 'self-conscious'???? Just to confirm, I asked one of the other girls what she thought. She checked them out and agreed. I thought, WTF?....if she's gonna work here then she needs to be subjected to questions, just like any of the others. So, I say "Uh.....whats that outline I see thru your top?" You never know how a person is going to react to a question like that, kind of a roll of the dice. She didn't even bat an eye "Oh...they're pasties. I'm always afraid I may offend some of the women that come in because, er, uh...well, my nipples really stick out, especially when's it cold in here, so I put these on". My answer was very diplomatic, "Do you see any girls at the bar?". She lets this sink in for a second and says "No, you're right, I'm gonna fix that". She turns around, reaches in her top, and voila...she removes them. I'd never seem 'em before (the pasties I mean...and her boobs for that matter) so she shows 'em to me (the pasties I mean). Damn...they look just like fancy band-aids. I love to learn new stuff :)

Oh, she was right....it evidently was very cold in there :)

PS: J-Fab......you really ought to take up Elle's slack since she's gone. I'm sure 'O-fuckin-Hio' would be 'blog' worthy :) C'mon, J-Fab..show me your boo...uh, er..blogs ;)

Vegas Recap Part 2

(Elle..glad you're better...I think I'll have a 'shot' to celebrate that ;)

Vegas in July (as I have whined before) in one hot motherfucker. Geez....hot in the desert in July, who woulda possibly guessed? The day we arrived, Friday, was 104 and not much wind. Saturday was a whole fucking different story. You know what it's like when you stand in front of a dryer vent..well multiply that by, oh I don't know, maybe a fuckin million. The temp was 108 and there was a 25-30 mph wind. You'd walk under those 'mist sprayer' things, which normally I find very fucking annoying, only to quickly figure out that in that temp and with the wind, they don't do a fuckin thing. No shit, you can't even feel the water as it evaporates as soon as it touches your skin. I found that very fucking annoying as well.

Friday night, after being up since 5:30 AM and with the fact I was now in a two-hour time zone difference, by 9:00 PM, I was fuckin whipped. But...I was meeting my cousins who were coming in from Dallas and their plane didn't get in until 11:00 which meant it would be midnight before they got to the hotel. But, I toughed it out, actually toughed it out until 4:30 AM and got up at 8:00.

Saturday, as I said, up at 8:00 and needing coffee, badly. No fuckin coffee maker in the room, no fuckin refrigerator either. These greedy fucks want you out of the room as quickly as possible (with the hope you go into the casino which it pretty much a fuckin given since you can't go anywhere unless you walk through the fucking thing 1st). I'm not good in the morning until I have coffee and I don't 'chit-chat' at all. Just leave me the fuck alone until I'm caffeined-up. I go to the elevator where's theres another guy waiting, wearing a fuckin Boston Red Sox cap and jersey. WTF???? Get off at the wrong exit on the way to a Sox game? Yeah buddy, I get it...

I try to stay in the background because I know this asshat is going to want to talk. Sadly, I am correct.

Asshat: How ya doin'? (in that obnoxious fucking accent). I just got here. I'm from Bahston (No shit..really..c'mon, you're really from Boston?..I had no fucking idea..wow..I woulda never guessed!)

Me: Uhnh (grunt-speak for hello)

Asshat: Ufrum?

Me: (FUCK...NO FUCKIN DOUBT...here it comes....if I hadn't been so fuckin groggy I woulda lied)......St. Louis

Asshat: St. Louis?? No kidding? We beat you in the '04 World Series. Man..was that great! Do you know how long it had been since we won the WS?

Me: 86 years.

Asshat: THATS RIGHT. Damn, you must hate me..HAHAHAHA (Yes, I fuckin hate you but not for the reason you're thinking)

*****DING*****

Finally that fuckin elevator door opens, he heads right for it. I turn and go back to the hall to wait for another. If I had to ride down with that fuck, I swear, I woulda killed him.

After coffee and a chocolate-drizzled crossiant ($8.00...yeah, good deals abound in Vegas), it was pool time. I did mention it was hot......well, 'hot' does have its perks. It's a big pool, 3 pools actually...and the population of 'hooker-wannabes' was astounding. Ya know, chicks that wear their CFM's (uh.....Come Fuck Me shoes) TO THE POOL but carry their flip-flops in their 'Nancy Gonzalez' beach bag. Gimme a fuckin break. They do walk on the pool's far side (so they don't slip and bust their collective asses) where they choose their prime tanning locations but it's also the furthest spot from the actual pool...and you know it's because since they'll have to walk further, they'll be watched for a greater amount of time. While I admit some of them were very 'doable' with big boobs and all, I kept going back to the whole intelligence thing. Man, am I fucked up.... I didn't watch long because evidently it was MY responsibility to bring my own fucking sunscreen because the only thing available to me was 'Banana Boat Dark Tanning Oil' which wouldn't offer any protection from a fucking lightbulb at 1000 feet.

Speaking of hookers...what a major fucking disappoint. When I was last here, you couldn't swing a dead cat and not hit a hooker...today, you can't tell who's a hooker and who isn't. Seriously, back in the day, hookers looked the part, all dressed up, short skirts, just the right amount of make-up, semi-exposed boobs, CFM's, the whole deal. Now, 75% of the girls look like this. What the fuck? I mean do ya just walk up and say "Uh..excuse me, are you a hooker? What a fuckin letdown. You don't even see the 'economy' hookers on the street and thats because the streets are so fuckin packed with people they'd be shoved off their corner and into the traffic.

One thing Vegas does have along the strip is about 2000 illegals handing out 'business cards' with phone numbers of 'Girls Direct To You!' Yeah, thats what I would want, hookers that come with the recommendation of a very sweaty 'Emilio'.

I used to gamble some.........well, actually a little more than 'some'...okay, fuck it, I used to gamble like the proverbial drunken sailor, you name it; cards, dice, football, baseball, fuck, I'd bet on practically anything.....except fuckin basketball. But, I mean I am in LasFuckinVegas and there is some gambling influence around here so, I figured, time to show these mfer's a thing or two. I have a rule (well, used too), only play if the dealer is American because you'll get caught in some 'Soreee..no unstan yu'' bullshit if they aren't, and that can cost you $$. That rules out the fuckin window because 99% of the casino gaming employee's are fucking Oriental and they either can't speak English worth a fuck or they pretend they can't.....either way, you're fucked.

I find a blackjack table with the most American-looking Oriental girl I can find. I always try to sit just to the right of the dealer because 80% of the fucks you play with at the same table don't know a fuckin thing about the game except if they get 21, they win. These fuckers can cost you a ton of money because they take cards when they shouldn't or don't when they should. Anyway, I couldn't get my preferred seat at this table but I could tell the 2 guys playing knew their shit. I sit in, within 20 minutes, I'm up close to $300. We're kicking Tokyo Rose's ass. Now, we're all doin' the 'head nod' thing to each other whenever one of us really plays the shit out of our hands....we're 'big time' and cool ya know ;) Another 20 minutes goes by.....now up almost $700, we can't fucking lose and we're all betting like it. THEN, a fucking intruder shows up. Worse yet, he introduces himself to us..do we really look like we give a flying fuck? We've been playing for almost an hour and haven't said a fuckin word to each other and now we're forced to become buddies with this JO....oh well, hopefully he 'can play'. So much for fucking hope..this motherfucker, oh..yeah, 'Dan from Wisconsin'....can't play for shit. He has no fucking clue...even the dealer asks him once "Are you sure?" I mean if the fucking dealer asks you that don't you think maybe, just fucking maybe, that whatever it is that you're contemplating is just fucking WRONG???? After one of the hands he fucked up (one of many) which also caused us to lose, one of the the other players looks at 'Dan from Wisconsin' and says "You ever played this game before?" to which 'Dan' replies, "I can't help if I get bad cards" to which I reply "You've cost me personally over $400 in the short time you've been here, can you 'learn' at another table?" The dealer is not saying a word because she thinks he's a dumbfuck too. 'Dan' gets his feelings hurt and leaves but its too fucking late. We all get shit cards for the next 10-15 hands. It's all I can do to break even. Then I have a thought............what if 'Dan from Wisconsin' was really 'Silvio from the Casino' sent in to break the streak we were all on? Nah.....this is Vegas, they wouldn't do that.

Vegas Recap and Back to Work Blues Too (Part 1 ;)

1st of all........LMAO @ "stepmother who rides a mother fucking broom" Good to have you back, J-Fab :)

Elle......Hope you're feeling better! I know it's of little solace when you're told things have a way of working themselves out, but they do, honey :)

Alright, here we go......Surprisingly, the plane left on time and I had no 'seat kicker' sitting behind me or a crying baby within 30 rows. Flight was very uneventful, which is how I prefer.

By the time we arrived at the hotel, I was already down $45 (tips for all the fuckin baggage handlers and the airport shuttle to the hotel). We stayed at he Luxor, not the 'glitziest', which is hard to believe when the hotel is shaped like a glass pyramid and the entrance has a fuckin Sphinx you walk-through the size of two 747's. If the flight was uneventful, getting a fucking room wasn't. I guess checking in on a Friday wasn't the smartest fuckin thing I've ever arranged, besides LV in mid-July.

There's probably 75 people ahead of me in the 'check-in' line. I'm thinking, 'WTF?', they have maybe 25 'stations' but half of those have signs that say 'Window Closed'. 'Window Closed'????? Motherfuck.....how many fuckin people have to be backed up BEFORE they open up the rest? Finally, after 30 minutes or so, my turn. I get 'waved' by possibly the gayest guy I have ever encountered. He's wearin fuckin eyeliner....WTF???....and his name tag says 'Gui'...GUI???? Is it 'Guy...Gwee'...Gee'? Maybe it's French for 'Gay'..who the fuck knows? Our interaction went like this:

Me: Reservation for Efen. Two adjoining rooms.
Gui: Ok, uh...I have them, BUT they aren't adjoining, BUT they are all the same floor.
Me: That's not how I reserved them.
Gui: Sir, we're full.
Me: (now getting 'slightly' irritated) You weren't full when I booked it and it's not going to be my problem. You have two choices, either fix it or get me your 'superior'. (I love to use that 'superior' line because it lets the prick know in just how little regard I hold him)
Gui: (after giving me that 'I can't believe how unreasonable you're being' look) I'll be right back.

'Right back' evidently means 'I'll make this jackoff wait for 15 minutes before giving in'. Who do these fucking people think they're screwing with? Even the other desk employee's were looking around like 'where the fuck did he go'? I have now elevated from 'slightly irritated' to 90% full-blown Efen. There's a guy (not to be confused with Gui) who I guessed was in-charge of the front desk as he pretty much walks from one end of Registration to the other and back. He makes the mistake of making eye-contact' with me. "Sir...have you been helped?" "I was but right in the middle he went on break". He says 'Went on break?". I turn to the desk girl that was sitting next to him and said "Didn't he leave about 15 minutes ago?" She didn't want to 'drop a dime' on her co-worker but she knew she had no out as I was giving her that 'if you fuckin lie for that SOB I'll come over this counter' look..She said "well, probably". So, the HMFIC takes off and within 20 seconds he was back with Gui in tow (who looked liked he had been told that the LOGO network had been changed to 'John Wayne Movie Network').

Gui: Ok, Mr. Efen, it's all been taken care.
Me: Did we really have to do all this song and dance first?
Gui: (No reply)

The bellman shows ups and off we go. Now, for those of you who are not familiar with the size of these places, they are huge, really, really, fucking huge. We walk and walk, get to the east elevator and go up 12 floors. Down to the room(s) where finally, I'm thinking anyway, I can just plop down for a few minutes and relax. Hmmm...whats that little red sign I see on the door with a cigarette and a diagonal line thru it? MOTHERFUCK......after all that bullshit that little french looking prick has won afterall, he put us in No Smoking rooms. I tell the bellman that this aint going to fuckin work. He gets on the phone, calls the front desk and we wait. 10 minutes goes by and they call the bellman saying they have us different rooms, just had to go down to the 4th floor. Off we go again. Get to the rooms, so far so good, that is until the bellman pulls open the drapes. We have that famous view that everyone goes to Vegas to see.....all the fucking air conditioning units that cool this fuckin place.....right out our fucking windows.
I have only the bellman to thank for me not going back downstairs for a little 'one on one' time with Gui. He got back on the phone and told the front desk to do something and do it now. We took off again, but this time we had to go to the 'west tower'. Down we went, back thru the casino, to the other side of the hotel. Fuck, I am tired, hungry, and maybe a little bit on edge at this point. Up to the 6th floor and into the room(s). Bellman opens the drapes.......Oh my...we overlook the pool(s). Thank him profusely, give him a $20 and pull up a chair to the window ;) Maybe this will be ok after all!

My (Possible) Itinerary

Ok, more than likely my last post for a few days UNLESS something really; Funny, aggravating, mildly-amusing, or just plain fucked-up occurs ('my money' is on the latter..uh, get the Vegas connection there...LMAO...Elle, was I always so damn funny??? Well, huh, was I? ;)

Plane leaves at 12:20 tomorrow and if all goes as scheduled (yeah...likely) should be touching down in Las Vegas at 1:50 (For those of you reading this and trying to figure out how 'time goes backwards', well..get the fuck off of this site. I've spent my whole life having to deal with dumbfucks as yourself and I won't deal with you on MY SITE!) Ok....I think they're gone.

Last check, Vegas will be a light and breezy 108 BUT there's a cool front on the way that is supposed to drive down the temperature to 104. TG for that!

Daughter has informed that her 'peak' tannning hours are between 1:00 - 4:00 which is her way of telling me that she won't be getting up early to enjoy the Nevada sun. In fact, she's at the 'electric beach' (hehe..stole that from Elle ;) as I type this. Nevermind the fact that it's 96 fuckin degrees here today and not a cloud in the sky between here and Canada, she needs to do the whole 'pay for tan' routine. Oh yeah, she's already tan too. She's supposed to work for me until 3:00 but 'she had soooooooooo much to do and was running out of time to get it all done' so I told her to leave at 1:00. I guess it's really my fault as I only told her 4 weeks ago about the trip and who can get all their shit together in such a short time frame?

More to follow....hmmmm...think J-Fab will wonder where the fuck Efen is?? (Uh...you laughin Elle? ;)

Efen's History Class

(This isn't a funny post or one of my infamous 'rants'......just interesting to me)

I'm sure I'll be scoffed at by most of you for my Mid-West ignorance but I learned something the other night that was news to me.

I was watching the 'History Channel' and they had show called 'The Battle of Blair Mountain'. Evidently, this was the largest civil uprising since the Civil War and occurred in southwestern West Virginia. As I'm sure that 99% of my 'readers' know, the conflict began when coal miners were attempting to unionize and the coal companies were doing everything in their power to stop it. A very interesting show.

I also learned that this is where the term 'redneck' originated. This came from the red bandanna's that the miners wore around their necks. For some reason I had figured this term came out of the 'deeper' south (geographically speaking).

I guess there's no reason for me to expound on the Hatfield-McCoy feud. Again, I thought this was in Tennessee or Kentucky. Sorry for not giving WV its 'props'.

Next on The History Channel: The USA Saves Belgium's Ass From The Germans in WWII and They Re-Pay Us By Buying The Largest Brewery in America (a personal vendetta)

A Walk Down Memory Lane

(Elle.....did I hear your gasping?.......LOL..J/K)

All of these 'subtle' reminders that there are those of you on vacation, or 'vacay' if you prefer (and I happen not to) has me looking forward to this coming Friday. Thats when I leave for Las Vegas (PLEASE..if you're so kind to comment here, PLEASE do not call it 'Lost Wages, mainly because, while there may be some truth to that, I fucking hate that phrase...don't know why, just do).

Haven't been to LV in damn near 30 years and yes, I have heard it has changed. Now 30 years ago, 'someone' told me that hookers (I prefer 'escorts' btw ) had a 'going rate' of $100. Uh, I didn't ask if that was an hour or a night but geez...$100 thirty years ago was a lot of money (was going to say 'a lot of 'fuckin' money but didn't want to go for the cheap laugh). I have no idea what that brings it to in todays world. I mean on those Law & Order shows (my favorites) they always have a hooker who gets whacked and they refer to her as "$1000/night pro". WTF....a grand for one freakin night?? Really..is that for real?? If any of you have any friends (or family members) that can fill me in on this, please do. And, its not because I want to see how many pounds of aluminum cans I need to collect between now and Friday (uh...that would be 1076#), I'm just wondering.

That last trip there was like a dream. Two of my Chicago buddies met me out there. Real funny guys, real Italian guys. One's family was in the wine business, the other's Dad had something to with the Union. Anyway, I reaped the benefits from their families 'knowing people'. Back in the day, the Stardust and The Riviera were the places to stay. We stayed 5 nights, 2 in a suite at the Stardust, 3 in a hufuckinmongous penthouse deal at the Riviera (we were cool..we called it 'The Riv'). The best part here, besides the obvious, was that none of those nights cost us one fuckin cent! The rooms were 'comps' as well as some of the meals. The waiter or maitre'd would simply come up to the table and say "Its all been taken care of". Man, I felt like I was in a movie. My buddies would just look at me and laugh. Though they did say "My Dad said if we fuck up and cause any fuckin problems, we have all had it". Never quite sure what 'all had it' meant but I was fairly certain since I wasn't one of their kids I would probably 'have it' more so than them.

One guy had a real penchant for hookers (weren't call escorts back then so :~ )We knew this because he told us about a thousand times. One night my buddy and I came back to the room, about 3:00 AM or so, and we met him leaving the room with 'Darla'. Maybe 20 minutes or so later, he's back. This time with 'April'. I remember these gals like it was yesterday. 'April' was really a pretty and intelligent girl...oh, that and she had huge boobs. Said she was from Dallas but who knows. I've read where hookers don't always tell you the truth. By the time we left, I know the guy had 7 or 8 'dates'. He won close to $900 playing roulette and I guess he figured they really didn't cost him anything. Oh, and thats where I saw my 1st and only pregnant hooker. Outside on a corner, across from a Denny's. She was offering a '3 for 1' special, we passed but I did see 'that look' in my one buddy's eyes.

Lots of funny shit happened in those 5+ days. We were in a taxi going who the fuck remembers where when all of a sudden, the cabbie yells out one of my friends name. Turns out they went to high school together in Chicago. Think about that..pretty fuckin wierd. He went out there to be a dealer, lasted about a month. Said he fucked up too many times dealing blackjack but he liked it there and he was staying. We laughed our asses off about that too, as did he. Great fucking time. Why do I feel like this trip is going to be soooooooo different?

Suburban Wildlife (and how to drive them to extinction)

First, if you're one of those 'PETA' freaks, bring it the fuck on.......I dare you......really, I fuckin dare you!

I live in the suburbs and I like it. I lived in the city years ago. Didn't like it. Among the things I prefer about the suburbs is it's more like living in the country (sans meth labs) with more social amenities. I also like the wildlife............to a point.

My normal routine is to go outside on the patio, every morning, with my coffee, my cigarettes, and the newspaper. I enjoy this and I also enjoy watching the birds at my feeders and the occasional mother racoon with her 3 offspring. I've even seen a few coyotes. I used to enjoy watching the squirrels and the semi-regular sighting of a chipmunk.......as I said, I used to.

I mentioned the bird-feeders. These also double as squirrel-feeders. That was fine as long as they stayed on the ground and ate the sunflower seeds that fell. I have a 'squirrel-guard' around the feeders and that works...........mostly. But, evidently one of these little fuckers has evolved enough to figure out a way to circumvent this level of feeder-protection. I know this because I see him hanging on the feeder and in no time, emptying it out. Now, I'm not a cheap guy but these fuckin sunflower seeds go for about $22/50# bag and I've gone through 2 bags in the last 3 fuckin weeks. I've watched and it's only 1 squirrel accomplishing this feat. He's easy to spot as his tail is quite shorter than the rest of his rodent brethern. I was willing to live with this annoyance UNTIL the other morning, I look out and see the little motherfucker chewing on the wooden column that supports the roof-overhang on my patio! I'm not talking a little chew mark, I'm talking about a 6" long x 3" wide chunk, forever gone! I mean WTF??? This little bastard now prefers fucking wood to sunflower seeds??? I tell one of my buddies at "SV" (Elle knows this place...which will be in a later post ;) about it and he's all "Well, you can get some spray and use it about twice a day and it 'supposedly' acts a deterrent, it's about $12 a can". Yeah, I'm gonna spend $12, spray the column 2 times a day, and HOPE it works. Fat fuckin chance of that. I have a much better idea and one that I know I don't have to 'hope' works.

I have guns, quite a few of them actually, besides one that likes to hunt, I am a firm believer of being able to protect my loved ones and my property, to the fullest extent, if need be. I have no qualms about this and I don't apologize for it. If you pose an immediate threat, I will take immediate action. This also goes for property-destroying squirrels.

Part of my 'arsenal' includes a pellet gun, the greatest remedy ever invented for 'rodent-control'.
So, I 'stake out' the bird-feeder. Unlike deer or turkey hunting, you don't have to 'camo-up' for this and rising at 4:00 AM is not a prerequisite. You pretty much just go about your normal routine (coffee in one hand, Marlboro Medium in the other) and wait. Waiting took until about Page 3 of the Sports section. I see the little fucker happily bounding across my yard, first stopping to eye the column, then me. I guess he figured "I'll chew that that thing after that dumb fucker goes in the house". He saunters over to the one feeder and just stares up for a bit. Then, he backs up, takes a run and leaps to the 'guard' and uses this a spring-vault to the feeder. Actually, it kinda of impressed me but I was not about to forego my mission. He immediately starts shoving the seeds in his rat-looking little face forgetting about 'dumbfuck' on the patio. His error. Ya know, you can barely hear a pellet gun go off when you squeeze the trigger. I know it didn't. Hopefully, he doesn't have any 'evolved' siblings.

Mall Trip - Part 2 (aka 'Mellow Efen')

Sorry about yesterday's post. I should not EVER type something out when I happen to be extremely pissed. Guess I should heed that 24 Hour 'cooling off period' rule. Oh well......I imagine it will happen again ;)

'Bikeboy' incident aside, the rest of the 'trek' went without any hitches (unless you count all the road construction and lane closures...(suppressing comments about this).

I pull into the mall lot which happens to be roughly the size of Maryland. I had figured since they didn't open until 10:00 and it's only 10:25, plenty of close parking would be in abundance. There's that 'Mall Naiveness' thing. Evidently, they had a 'sale' (yeah....these are extremely fuckin rare) and it was the last chance for 1/2 the state's population to ever buy anything at such a great price! I drive around (which in itself wasn't too bright because if the mall just opened who the fuck was going to be leaving this soon?) and can find only 1 spot that isn't a 1/4 of mile away...well, technically I guess it was a parking spot but the SOB driving the 1998 Mercury Marquis with Florida plates (retiree..ya think?) felt they should take about 18" of 'my spot'. I passed. No need to deal with a big dent when they pulled out.

Found a spot, yes, far away but I can walk so no big deal (unlike that 300# gal I see get out of her car in the 'Handicapped Spot' with 6 kids. Apparently her 'handicap' doesn't effect one area of her life).

Make my way through the myriad of aisles to the Shoe Dept. Lovely, I can see they really 'ramped up the staff' for this 'Once in a lifetime' sale. I count 3 salespeople. I also count 16 customers, not including myself, but since I'm only there to 'pick-up' I should get helped right away, well, that was my thinking. I go up to the counter where there is an older man running the register.

Him: Be right with you, Sir.

Me: Thats fine, no hurry. (Uh, can you spot the major error there?)

The guy is trying to do his best but it seems like the 2 ladies he's trying to check out, now aren't real sure of their purchases. "Could I see these again in that brown color instead?" He disappears and he's back with the brown ones. "I just don't know, Debbie, what do you think"? "Debbie' apparently is a fashion expert as she proceeds to critique both pairs with an endless amount of color combinations that 'Suzie' could wear with them including the 'new outfit' that she bought last week, you know, 'the one she wore to Megan's wedding (according to 'Debbie', it was Megan's 3rd but you couldn't really count the 1st one cuz it was annulled'). This goes on another 10 minutes until 'Suzie' decides she can't decide and tells the guy "I'm going to think about it some more while I shop...I'll be back". I could tell by the look on the poor guy's face he was thinking "You won't be back!" but strangely, not pissed at all. As 'Debbie and Suzie' turn to walk by me, 'Suzie' gives me this 'Oh I'm so silly' look. I give her the 'you're so fuckin stupid' look. I win on that one ;)

Now I am next and honestly, I am prepared for a litany of excuses of why they can't find the shoes, why they aren't the right size, why they aren't the right color, why they aren't etc etc.

Me: I'm here to pick up some shoes you're holding. The name is 'Efen's daughter, I'm her Dad'.

Older Sales Guy: Let me check, be right back.

Uh oh...that dreaded 'letme check' phrase. Here it comes...................

Older Sales Guy: Here ya go 'Mr. Efen Daughters Dad'. And he proceeds to open the box to confirm they are the right ones, the right size, and the right color, which they are.

Me: Sir, thank you very much, I really appreciate your time.

Older Sales Guy: No problem at all. Thats what I'm here for and if there's a problem with the shoes, please take my card and give a call.

I'm still reeling abit from that experience. Someone who actually wants to help, is polite, thankful for the business you're giving his company, and really seems to know what they're doing. I so wish he was 40 years younger..................my daughter could do a whole lot worse ;)

Oh, daughter gives me a big hug and tells me, "Dad, I hope you know how much you mean to me. I'm not talking about you just going to pick these up for me but the fact being you wanted to". All in all, the day was a winner :)

My Trip To The Mall - Part 1

I know I said I was going to post a story regarding how I came to say 'fuck' in front of my daughter (she was 16 at the time) but that will have to wait for another time. The reason will become obvious below.

Ok, I'm not a big 'mall guy', in fact, I hate the fuckin mall and everything it stands for. The soccer moms (don't misunderstand, I love soccer moms but do they all have to be there at once wearing their 'IF I really DID play tennis, this would be the outfit I would be wearing!), the fuckin mall walkers who have decided YOU'RE the one intruding on their space, the rude and incompetent sales help (help?? wtf!) AND.......the worst of all, those fake smiling 'I-wish-I-was-a-real-model' bitches who do their best to ambush you and spray some kind of nauseating smelling shit on you. These aren't all the reasons but you get the idea.

My trip started because my daughter, whom I love dearly, but doesn't always use the best of judgment (see, told you she was my daughter :) had a 'crisis'. Ya see, over the 4th she and a group of friends went to an area lake. One night they all went out to a place that I only know as 'Dad, it is sooooooooo ballin' (Uh, no, I was afraid to ask). While there, they run into some more friends who have a boat (no, this didn't thrill me either) and they all decide to go out on the lake to watch the fireworks. Keep in mind, since they were at the 'Soooooooo Ballin' place, they were all dressed up, ya know, heels and all. Well, since heels and boats don't really mix, the heels come off. Along the way, the boat stops and picks up more people (must of been the size of the fuckin Queen Mary). After the fireworks were over, the boat starts dropping people off at various points and my daughter and her friends were dropped off last. All was fine until she discovered her 'Most Favorite Jessica Simpson' heels had been stolen. When she told me this a few days later, I asked her if she was sure she hadn't just lost them? "No way, Dad. My shoes were right on top of my purse, right where I left it!" Are ya'll with me on this? The fact that her purse wasn't stolen as well didn't seem to mean all that much to her but these prized shoes with some bimbo's name on them were irreplaceable. This leads to all kinds of phone calls to several area malls by her, desperately trying to find another pair because she just 'has to have them' for our trip to Vegas. Finally, after being 'so bummed' for several days, she finds them and has the place put them on 'hold', but not at a mall thats close. Since she 'works' for me in the summer (translates into: flexible starting hours, flexible quitting hours, an abundance of vacation, etc) I do prefer her to be actually working to collect her pay, I told her I would go and pick them up. Of course, she was very appreciative, especially since she didn't have to drive the 40 minutes one-way to get them.

My Trek: I leave work about 9:30 to get to this fuckin place when it opens (10:00). My journey takes me through an area where suddenly, everyone thinks they are part of the Tour de France and the fuckin roadways are their personal Velodrome. These dickwads (mostly males) are fucked up beyond belief. First of all, they're all decked out in those bright neon-colored, skin tight outfits that reminds me of crankbaits that I have in my tackle box. Then they wear that fuckin ridiculous helmet that makes them look like the monster in 'Alien'. Of course, they all ride proudly on top of their $4000 Cannondale bikes, from one fuckin Starbucks to another after drinking their 'double-latte-light cream-extra fuckin foamy-mochas I assume.

But, the part that just SO pisses me off is the fact they really think they can ride in the same fucking lane as any motorized vehicle, only at about the 1/10th of the speed and fuck anyone who happens to be behind them. As you can probably surmise, this is exactly what I encountered. This particular road is 2-lane and there are stop lights every fuckin 1/2 mile so traffic never really gets up to any decent speed. I'm sitting at a light and watch this bicycle prick barely hesitate as he passes me and goes through the light. Thats fuckin great, prick runs through a red-light at one of the busiest intersections around.....and escapes unscathed. Light changes and guess who now has the motherfuck right in front of him..going about 15 mph. I am not too happy about this because he isn't making any effort to move over at all. Oh yeah, fuck those sidewalks he could be riding on, the paved road is so much smoother on his fat-ass. Now, I don't want to cause the fucker any harm, I just want him to move to the shoulder so me and the 88 cars behind him can get by. Finally, he fucks up and I fly by the prick hoping the wind from my SUV blows his ass off the road. That doesn't happen but at least I'm ahead of him.......for about 30 fuckin seconds. I come to a stop light. This fuck, who for all I know is from France and there aren't many things I hate worse than France and its chickenshit French inhabitants, passes ME on the right then pulls back into the traffic lane and stops at for the light...with me 2 cars back. I swear I wanted to go all 'meth-head' on his ass. As luck would have it, mine, defintely not his, the 2 cars in front of me turned off, leaving me right behind him. Now, am I wrong here to be a little 'upset'? This fuckin jackoff won't let anyone pass, he won't get the fuck over, but he'll pass everyone he can on the shoulder when we're all stopped at a light, then get right back in the traffic lane. No, I am not fucking wrong and above all of this, it's just plain fucking rude and rudness is another thing I can not nor will not tolerate. I am now within 12" of his rear tire. I'm in a big, white, kingofthefuckin road SUV that gets about 8 fuckin miles per gallon and its 100% American made, plus its one heavy fucking vehicle, alot bigger and heavier than his fruity little bike. I don't know if he's 'aware' or not so just make sure, I honk, and I honk fucking steady. 'Bikeboy' looks back, kinda alarmed, and, I fuckin kid you not, starts trying to petal faster! I mean, WTF? Just move the fuck over. But nope, same shit. I would think most people, even pricks like this, realize that as a driver of any gas-combustion vehicle, all you have to do is press down on that gas pedal alittle and it speeds you right up. Which is what I did but now, I'm about 99% prick and I am not going to follow this fuck for another 8 miles. Then, I see an opening, not really an opening but there wasn't any oncoming traffic so I pass the fucker, pretty easily I might add ;) Up ahead there's a light and we both get stopped by it. He's right behind me, and I know this whole scenario is going to get repeated, so I get out.

Me: What the fuck are you doing? Either move over to let others by or use the fucking sidewalk!

Bikeboy: Man, I have as much right to the road as you do.

Me: Fuck you! You're a selfish prick who thinks you look cool in your Liberace outfit. Stay the fuck out of the way or I'm going to turn your bicycle into a unicycle and shove it up your ass.

Bikeboy: (giving me his best impression of an angry look)

Additional Motorist Who has Stopped: Hey you cocksucker, get that motherfuckin bike outta my way or I'm going to kick the shit out of you right fucking now! (Obviously, while I admired certain traits of this stranger, he's just not quite as eloquent as I would of preferred).

Bikeboy: (says nothing, rides off on his bike, on the shoulder ;)

More to follow in "Part 2".

Day After Birthday

You know you're advancing in years when it's the day after your birthday and you aren't all "Damn...I sure wish it was still my birthday. I can't believe I have to wait a whole year for it to be my 'special day' again".

Now, it's pretty much "Fuck, I'm fucking how old now?" Are your sure....I mean, are really sure I'm that old? I coulda sworn I was a year younger than that". Oh well, beats the fucking alternative.

I did get one very cool gift..........a Sony PS3! Uh, no, I won't be playing any fuckin games on it (although my daughter is thrilled and has already said "Dad, wouldn't Guitar Hero 3 be really cool to have?") Speaking of, I can see where 12 years of private school and thus far, 3 years of private college have really paid off. I didn't know that she was majoring in 'Guitar Hero' but according to my nieces and nephew (who she just came back from visiting for 2 weeks in Orlando and Tampa) she's the best they have ever seen. "Uncle Efen.....we thought our friend Derek was the best. We've never seen him beat and plays 'expert'. She beat him every time and it wasn't even close. We thought he was gonna cry". So, I guess I should be happy. She could be majoring in something useless, like HALO.

Oh, sorry, lost track, back to the PS3. I've been wanting to buy a HD DVD player but wasn't going to until it was determined if Blu-Ray or HD was going to be the preferred format (Didn't want to get stuck with a Betamax when VHS was the only thing being made). So Blu-Ray won (duh......much cooler name than just 'HD'). The thing is, a PS3 and a Blu-Ray player cost the same, but with the PS3 you can put all your music that you've 'legally'..wink..downloaded (3000+) on your computer and transfer it to your PS3, plus you get on the web and shit like right in front of your TV. I mean, really, just how fucking cool is that!! So, between the two its pretty much a fuckin no-brainer. Of course, it will probably take me a fuckin month to get all the shit to work, but hey, it looks cool with all the lights and shit.

Being the fuckin genuis I am, I'm leaving at the end of next week for Vegas. At last check, the temp is LV was 110. Fuck that 'dry heat' bullshit. Whoever says that shit to you is one of the biggest fuckin morons walking the face of the earth (besides me for planning this trip in July). Your fuckin oven is also 'dry heat'.

More to come.................

My Introduction

First of all, I have no fuckin idea as to why I'm doing this. I think I'll blame it on my good friend Laura (livinglaura.blogspot.com). I had to set up an account to reply to her 'blog' which I guess automatically gives me my own 'blog'. Speaking of, from this point forward, you'll never, ever, see the typed word 'blog' again. I hate that fucking term. Back in 'the day', I did my fair share of 'posts', and that is simply what they should be called and will be, on this 'Forum'.




As you may have surmised, I use the "F" word and all of its derivatives .......frequently. To those of you that do not know me, you may be thinking 'He uses that word because he's under-educated, ignorant, and a by-product of parents who used foul language as a common form of communication'. Well, you may be right except for the last part. The strongest words I've ever heard either of my parents say is 'Son-of-a-bitch'. Basically, I just the like the word, so if you're offended, go the fuck somewhere else.




A little background on myself. I'm married (2nd time), have a 21 YO daughter, and own a business since '93. While owning your own business has its perks the fucking headaches are beyond belief. This isn't limited to those that are owners but to anyone that has any supervisory role, you know exactly what I fucking mean. Examples will be a separate post of its own, probably a 3-parter.

I am a firm believer in that every person should be held accountable for his/her actions. That every person should be responsible for their choices and the direct consequences that result, good or bad. I hate these fucking whiners that blame everything on someone else, that nothing is ever their fault, that someone else should be helping them with their lives, jobs, family, etc etc. Fuck them. These are the same people that never do one damn thing to help themselves. They don't show any extra initiative, just do the bare minimum in their jobs but bitch and moan they aren't being paid enough. The reason their kids (wives, husbands, siblings, etc) are so fucked up is because somewhere along the way someone else is the cause. Grow the fuck up and quit with excuses. Better yet, look in the fucking mirror, if your double-wide has one.

Now I realize I may come across as one grouchy mfer and in reality, I guess I am. But...I prefer to characterize myself as one who looks at the world as it should be instead of how it is. Basically, I have no patience or tolerance for whiners, stupid, or lazy people but I find some of my funniest/angriest encounters over the years have been with this ever-growing sub-class.




An example of this:



I am the lone trustee (supposed to be 3) of my subdivision (because no one else would do it) and have been for 10 years. It's a small subdivision, 16 homes, and when I agreed to do it, I thought 'just how much fucking work can it be'? We have a small 'common ground' area at the end of the cul-de-sac and I had a company cut and maintain that area for years. That is until 'Looks-like-a-guy-fat-bitch' moved in across the street. Next thing I know, I get a letter she sends out threatening 'litigation' against the trustee (me) because she believes there is some sort of 'collusion' going on between the trustee (still me) and the owner of the landscaping company because she has found out that I know him on a personal basis (translation: I'm getting a huge kick-back from the gifuckingnormous $100 we pay him). Okay, this actually pisses me off and more than just alittle. Keep in mind no one else wants this fucking job and no one EVER offers to help in any form and this 'LLAGFB' hasn't lived here for more than a month and yet she can stir the fucking pot because 90% of my fucking neighbors are transplants from where they were the sole village idiots and they will believe practically anything they're told! So it starts, the fucking morons from the end of the street band together ('band' may be a little strong cuz there were only 3 of them 2 guys, 1 gal, including a Chinese guy who I had to 'threaten' a few years back to take down his fucking Christmas lights........in JUNE..WTF...didn't even know they knew what Christmas was. Not racist, just ignorant I guess).



I can be open-minded and will, at times, certainly listen to another's point of view, but in the following scenario, you can pretty much throw that crap out the fuckin window. It went something like this:



Mob: We got this letter. We'd like to talk to you about it.



Me: Yes, I got it too. Whats on your mind (very fuckin little but I was being polite)?



Mob: We're alittle concerned about this allegation, ya know, about you having, er, uh, ties with the lawn guy.



Me: Ties? I know the guy, he's honest, reliable, and insured. Do you really think I'm taking kick-backs?



Mob: Uh, no, no, its just , well, is it cheaper if they aren't insured?



Me: It is. But, if they get hurt they can sue the whole subdivision and take every penny you have. Is that your preference? (I am really close to losing what little patience that I have)



Mob: No, thats okay then but the $100 is way out of line!



Me: You have to keep in mind that the common ground is steep and in some places rocky. All he has to do is hit a rock and it will cost him more than a $100 to replace that blade on his $6000 commercial mower (that part went right over their collective dumbfuck heads).



Mob: We think he should do it for $50.00



Me: Ok, the subdivision will pay one of you $50 to do it.



Mob: We pay people for that.



Me: Thats what I've been doing.



Mob: You need to make some calls and set up some appointments and see where we can get the best price. And...this should be done ASAP so we don't incur anymore of those high-priced charges.



Ok, I take full responsibility for allowing this to happen. While never overly-friendly to these jack-fucks, I would give them that quick 2-finger wave while I was outside cutting my grass or something. That was a mistake. I led them to believe that they could come on my fuckin property without an invitation, ring my fuckin doorbell, and then proceed to talk to me like I gave a motherfuckin shit about what they had to say. I am happy to say that I remedied that with the following and I highly doubt it will ever in a million fuckin years occur again.



Me: Ok, you want me to make phone calls and set up meetings, to take off work or come home early to meet with landscapers because you think that we can save $50. Is that about right?



Mob: Well, you are the trustee and it is your responsibility.



Me...with my pissed voice (and I think you will agree by that I have been more than civil...up to this point) : Let me get some things straight here. I am the fuckin trustee because not one other fuckin person would volunteer nor do any of you ever ask to help in some way. On top of that, every one of you people are fuckin retired, home every motherfuckin day and you want me to make phone calls and you want me take off work to meet them?? Do any of you see the irony in this fucking conversation? (I could tell....they either didn't or had no fuckin clue what I meant). I tell you what the fuck I am going to do. I'm calling the landscape guy that I'm running the "scam" with and telling him not to cut any more. Then, I'm not going to do one fucking thing about replacing him. You do see that my house is on the opposite end from the common ground...do you for one fucking moment think I give a fuck if that ever gets cut?? I can't fucking see it, it won't bother me, so now its your fucking problem to take care of. You make the calls, you make the appointments BUT nothing, and I repeat NOTHING gets done or PAID unless you submit it to me because being the sole trustee, I have to authorize everything!



The 'Mob' mumbled some shit about me getting defensive and left, well, left when I closed the fuckin door on them. The next day I called the grass cutter told him the deal, he agreed with me, 'fuck them' he said. They still haven't found someone to cut and from what I've heard, $125 was the cheapest they found but he didn't have Insurance.



LLAGFB has her house up for sale. What a fuckin bitch, starts all this shit when she had to know she was going to be moving. My only regret.....I wasn't the reason for her moving.



Ok, thats all I got today. Really didn't mean to go into 'Rant' mode, but WTF, it is my 'post'.