The Ugly Shirt that Heather Made
Now Playing: as I've said before
Topic: My life (outside of work)
So, I decided to pick up fabric and make something for Halloween that I wouldn’t be completed embarrassed to display to my fellow employees. Of course I picked up the fabric and supplies without really thinking what I wanted to make; therefore, after a good five hours I’m now the proud owner and creator of The Ugly Shirt.

SIDE NOTE: I think I’m going to be a designer and label my creations The Ugly Shirt brand. Now just Just picture it!

Solgon: Cool and True! Life is a Pun!

Random person: Wow, that’s an ugly shirt!
Another Random Person: Yeah, it’s an ugly shirt, alright! *shows label* see, says so right here!

No one would be offended if someone said “that’s an ugly shirt” ‘cause the wearer would know it is! Smart, ne?

*blink blink*

I’m really over thinking this unlikely idea, eh? Well, I like the idea…might even consider doing it before I get all tired and lazy and realize I’d have to actually do some physically action to bring the idea to life. :P

Back on Track (oh, how my mind wanders)

I think I’ll take a picture of it tomorrow and post it on here…you have to see it. It’s on Mrs. Boobs right now (oh, for those of you who don’t know who Mrs. Boobs is, she’s my dressmaking manikin…she has big pointy knockers so really—if you’ve seen her—the name is really self explanatory.) In all it’s crappiness! I have to re-sew the arms too but then it might be an actual functional shirt and lose its “ugly shirt” status...hmm…decisions, decisions.

POINTLESS SIDE NOTE: The fucking thing scared the crap out of me this morning (I get up at 6am so it’s still dark) I wake up to see a headless shadow in the corner of the room—I think I’ll move Mrs. Boobs tonight *shudder*

Bulletin: My baby’s got a job!! *clap clap* For Theresa!! HURRAY!!

Elastic Fun at Work!!!
Topic: Work Rants
Edit: Names have been removed.

Okies, I think I’ve corrupted the Ass kisser (read My co-workers). Anyways, out of complete boredom Kiss Ass and I came up with the idea to shoot an electric band at Paul, another co-worker. I’ll narrate!

SITE NOTE: Personally, I think about maiming many many people on a daily basis working for Samsung –not really Samsung’s doing I think I’m just a horrible person *evil grin*

Paul passes by to talk to someone in another cubical behind ours. AssKisser and I make eye contact, AssKisser does a pretend shooting electric gesture, and I give the thumbs up. Plan is all set! Paul took like an hour blah blah blahing to some no-body behind us while Asskisser and I rolled our eyes and made “oh, come on” impatient sighs every few seconds. Then Paul moved…slowly towards Us--the room went silent! Time slowed! Then he passed me. AssKisser leaned back in his chair and aimed the elastic.

*Cheesy French accent* OH! The anticipation!

AssKisser throws the elastic!! I’m dieing from laughter as it hits Paul square in the ass and bounces back onto Asskisser's desk. Then the Kicker, He says in a very disappointed tone:

AssKisser: “You didn’t even flinch?”
Paul: “I thought it was your hand again”

HAHAHAHAHA, I’m serious he said that! With a straight face! HAHAHAHAHA!!

Dance Class Report 2: Return of the Russian Nazi!
Now Playing: with some toxic waste! HURRAY! now I have super powers!
Topic: My life (outside of work)
Whoops did I forget to post yesterday, my bad. *looks down at her hands while she types* Man, my finger nails are dirty. Meh, I don’t have any clipper to fix them. On to Today’s post!

Yesterday’s dance class was interesting…half way through my knee started to hurt so I half-assed every move the Russian Nazi was doing. It’s not like I can keep up anyways—the bitch turns, plies, bends, points--toes out, in, out again—turn, repeat…ah, screw that! It’s not like I’m shooting for the fucking American Ballet Studio here; I just wanted smaller thighs! The Russian Nazi did offer us a break from dancing, only to go into a room and bring out—in true evil Nazi fashion— hula-hoops . Now, just wait a damn minute here! This is a plastic torture device in the disguise of a toy—don’t believe me, well go back in time to your childhood, eat 100 hoe-hoes, get right plump and try playing hula-hoop with the local kids! HA! One size fits all DOES NOT FIT ALL MY ASS!! *pushes bad memories deep, deep down into the pit of her stomach to a place she likes to call “deal with at a later date when I can afford proper professional consultation.”*

Actually, it wasn’t an all together horrible experience. I did manage to keep the damned thing up for awhile when I incorporated the sexy dance (Mich likes to call “heather poll dancing”). It may have looked dirty but the thing stayed up! Oh, and just to warn you if you ever think hula hoping is a “fun” thing to do, don’t, just save yourself the humiliation, as it is a scary, scary sight indeed. —All explain….

Lori tried to warn me not to look in the look in the mirror (not easy when all four wall have mirrors—but thanks for the warning *insincere grin*) But it’s human nature to do what people tell you not to—damn human nature *holds out fist* I did indeed turn around and was rewarded with my jiggling ass, tights...um...everything flapping every which way while I attempt to hold up a round plastic circuital object. Um, excuse Mrs.’ Panty-hoes, isn’t that what the tights were supposed to suck in? And here I thought exercise was supposed to make you feel better about yourself…umm…yeah, the already skinny feel FANSITIC after a work out, humming away to the tone “lala, I’m skinning, lala, look at all the fatties here, lala, I’m so pretty”

You know, truthfully, I’m waiting for the skinny people’s orientation…or do former fatties get lost in that category of “fell between the cracks”? I want my fucking member card god damn it! I know there is some secret they harbor from the plump! *stares down skinny friends (i.e. Fernie and Theresa) don’t think you can hide it either! I’m on to you! *blink blink* I’m doing that paranoid thing again, aren’t I. heehee, moving on….

I should get back to work now…I did the bitching, ranting, self-loathing, paranoid thing…so I’m sure you’ll all happy. Bye-bye.

KILL ME KILL ME KILL ME (or just poke me with a stick)
Topic: Work Rants
I want to go home, I want to go home, I want to go home, kill me, kill me, kill me…

I really could go on for hours with this—I need some coffee...or something. My tummy hurt even thou I didn’t eat one damn milk product (and NO it’s not woman things either) it just feels icky. I’m wearing stockings (to keep warm) and their ICHY as hell!! And My head hurts from looking at this screen!! Though, despite all the little annoyances I’m having I am having a really nice hair day. Anyways, I continue to eat these pumpkin seed I bought downstairs even thou they’re salty as hell. I get bored and then pop another into my mouth—I don’t even noticed I’m doing it until the over-salted piece of crap touches my tongue. I’m a moron—end of story.

I want to go home! FUCK! I’m all stocked up for the Naruto Drinking game—Mudslides and Bacardi Breezer--

SIDE NOTE: Rules to the game: Two hits if any character says Naruto (it’s irritates me to NO end how many times they say the little buggers name) and one hit if Naruto says “Believe it.” (His English catch verse).

BAH!! AUGHH!! RARRR!! I can’t take it!! I’m SO bored!! This week was going so well too! I had work to do but it’s all dieing down again!! FUCK!! DAMN IT!!!AUGHH! *moku has a nervous breakdown*

One word: FIRE DRILL!
Now Playing: boo-gaa-paa--pee-pee--doo-doo
Topic: Work Rants
I was informed yesterday that we would be having a fire drill *sigh* ah, the pointlessness. I assumed with the rainy weather it was cancelled. So, when the bell did ring we were all a bit surprised. I was like “what the fuck is that noise?” then a muffled voice comes on informing me that we must leave the building, “oh! Yeah, Right, Duh…where are my shoes?” *puts shoes on* I walked casually over to check on Ms.Samsung Selfrigious and Abby the life line (in a real emergency I’d just take my chub butt and high-tail it outta there but really there was no need in this situation to exercise good “self-preservation”) where I caught the tail-end of Self-Rightious's conversation with a costumer:

Ms.Samsung: I have to go, sorry, fire…
Customer: Okay, I’ll call back later

WTF?!! Call back? The building might be in flames here, buddy! HELLO! What’s she gonna do? Take her third-degree burned ass back to work to receive your call-back..ah..then again..this IS Morally superior Mrs. Samsung Self-rightious.

Anyways, we all calmly followed the “assistant fire marshals” (really, just co-workers pre-assigned to wear reflective yellow and orange neon vests. to evacuate the building via the stairs. Despite constant gridlock at ever fuckin' floor we all made it down the stairs--I think. Truefully, I wasn’t paying much attention and neither were our “helpful” assistant fire marshals. In a real fire it’s safe to say we’re all fucked.

I don’t know how it happened but I lost track of our yellow/orange vested life lines, which isn’t hard when EVERY floor has the same bloody vests! Who thought that up! Great idea, Genius, I’m now following 50 IncroMicro employees to the wrong check point as Samsung is getting ready to send my family a ham as I’m obviously a causality of the blaze. *rolls eyes*

I did indeed find the check point after following The AssKisser (who also didn’t know where to go but was following someone from our company who was following someone who—thank god—did). We waited here for about five minutes then walked backed to the building adding to my previous assumption that fire drills are POINTLESS.

Now, our building houses a good number of people—apparently lazy-ass people—so the crowd for the elevator was HUGH! I was NOT about to wait hours for the elevator (I’m more impatient than lazy, I suppose) SO I opted for the stairs...all 9 flights *bangs head* stupid *bang* stupid! Dragging Mrs.Samsung Self-rightious and Abby the life line with me.

By the 8th floor I was crawling (literally) hand and knee while some loser from the ten floor (yeah, one of those high-ups assholes) was repetitively telling me to “hold the bar, gotta balance with the bars, ladies” I was like *pant, pant* “fuc….” *pant pant* “u..you.” My only satisfaction was in the knowledge when I reached the ninth floor and knew that bastard had another flight to go “haha! Take that! Ya, son of bitch!”

After retiring to my chiar (which was more like a flop, bounce and a sigh of relief) My whole ordeal was completed! I didn't even fight back when Petro Canda (my Boss) come up (20 minutes later) looking at my sweaty, tired, flushed face and said “you took the stairs!” and placing an “L” on his forehead. Yeah, I am, but I'm in my chair now! My USH zone! *tongue out* you can't touch me! HAHA *mad laugher con't*

THE END!

Samsung Meetings
Now Playing: with dead people and they're funner (not a word I know) than you!
Topic: Work Rants
This morning we had another pointless meeting I’ve dubbed “Isn’t it nice to know there are people more incompetent than we are.” Basically, our department has been Out-Sourcing--dumping calls (that don’t get answered in 5 minutes) off on another call-center in the states--to relieve our load. “In Theory.”

What is really happening? Well the five weeks of training we’ve giving these fuckers seems to be on how to use the transfer button ‘cause all they seem to be doing is escalating the calls back to us! The kicker is when the transferred call is returned to us that call takes priority over new callers, therefore all the new calls on our boards have to wait (yeah, for more than five minutes) then they get sent to the US out-sourcing company…*clap clap* so it’s back to square one again.

SIDE NOTE: Being a non-customer support agent in a call centre is fun, I tell ya. I get to sit back and laugh at this—while my fellow employees are about two seconds from a melt-down. : P

It was nice to have a meeting thou where we weren’t the one’s being chastised (of course not directly…never, ever, directly) for being incompetent! “NOW go and pat yourself on the back because we just found out someone sucks more than you! And we have 20 PowerPoint slides to prove it!”

Which bring me to the rules of the Samsung meeting?

Rule one: One thing about Samsung’s meetings MUST have PowerPoint slides! This Slide MUST have at least a million numbers, figures, and percentages that NO one understands to prove a point NO one cares about.

Rule Two: Someone will say something intelligent but everyone but one will understand and they will bugger back and forth until someone steps in to explain--this happens EVER bloody time, I swear. Usually it’s caused by one of the 10th floor high-ups putting their fingers in their ears singing “lala, I can’t heat you, lalala, you’re beneath me, lalalala” followed by a click and a new slide explaining NOTHING and confusing everyone even more.

Rule Three: “Any Questions?” will ALWAYS been accompanied by silence…and possibly a tumble weed.

Rule Four: All problems can be explained away with “The customer is stupid” not maybe you misunderstood them, or they really can’t find the “on” button no just plain “the Customer is one dumb shit”

Rule Five: As boring and pointless as the meetings are there is silver lining: Most meetings come with provisions in the form of coffee and doughnuts or have the promise of food at the end of the paining boredom.

Rule Six: They NEVER have anything to do with me EVER! It?s always useless knowledge that only concerns the call center reps or no one at all and we?re all just subjected to the boredom for no good reason.

Newfie Medicare...it's a wonderful thing!!
Now Playing: Monopoly!!! All my money for North Carolina! (inside joke)
Topic: My life (outside of work)
Well, we’re LONG over due for a “bad things happen to heather” entry, ne?

How Heather Fucked Up Her Toe

I was happily (yeah, that’s sarcasm) cleaning my room when I tipped the fuck over my own bed. WOW! There’s a big object in the middle of the room...now, how did I miss that (yeah, sarcasm again). I would have been fine if I didn’t trip over the bed’s METAL “frame.” Whoops! There goes half of my baby toe! (You figure out if that’s sarcasm or not…I’m done babying the ignorant).

I sort of spaced out for a second until I noticed that my baby toe was all bloody red. Then I snapped out of it with a “CRAP!! I JUST CLEANED THIS PLACE!” So, I hobbled (literally) down the stairs in search of a band-aid. How is a band-aid going to help me sew back on the flapping chunk of skin semi-detached from my toe? Yeah, I didn’t really know either…I was more concerned with the carpet getting dirty. Yeah, that’s how my brain works, going’ have to amputate my fucking toe but GOD forbidden I get blood on the flipping floor-- which in my defense IS hard to get out.

I tipped toed back and forth looking for band-aids from the kitchen to the living-room, then the bathroom and back to the kitchen. I looked stupid enough that my family came to my aid. SO, my family—being EVER so helpful—had an idea: Make your own band-aids. For the love of Martha Stewart…save me!

Why Newfies don’t run hospitals.

Point one: It took approximately twenty minutes for anyone to notice that I needed assistance in the pursuit of a bandage, “No, it’s okay. I’ll just bleed to death here, looking for one, thanks”

Point Two: The help I did receive was in the form of “The Newfie Band-aid.” Made out of a ripped off piece of quilted quicker picker upper and some heavy-duty duck tape--not the little scotch tape, that’s some commodity only meant for X-Mas presents. They just wrapped my wound up, right tight—but not tight enough that five second in a sock didn’t rip that sucker right off. I really need Medicare…*sigh*

Point Three: Lastly, I’d like to point out that NO one suggested disinfectant until the next day when Lori found a band-aid while—ironically--cleaning her room--Which she insisted I use on my toe. I was like “HELL NO!” she then went into a lecture about how I’ll lose my toe…and where was this lovely speech yesterday when I was bleeding all over the carpet, huh!?

After Monday’s dance class the wound re-opened—which NONE of you are going to tell Lori-Chan about. I really don’t need to hear “I told you so” (she warned me not to dance on it…BAH!). I can flap the skin again! Yeah!...I mean...boo…I mean…SHIT! Is that normal? Think I should go get it checked out?

*Moku waits for suggestions*

Friday Boredom can lead to serious retardness
Now Playing: BAHH! I say!
Topic: Work Rants

I hate Fridays, nothing to do—I’ve learn to amuse myself thou, mostly through VERY unprofessional means. Just spent an hour writing a stupid story, play...not really sure what to call it. You can check it out here. Yeah, I’m that bored…

I ate some M&Ms for Breakfast and now (Uh-uh, you’ve guessed it) I ‘m sick. Damn lactose intolerance!! Damn you to hell!! *sigh* why is it so hard for me to remember those pills, oh right, I’m cheap and forgetting is actually subconscious cheapness ‘cause those pills are SO expensive. Damn non-lactose intolerance Nazi corporations!!

Well, I’ll end here since nothing is happening here and I’m babbling. *waves*

Profanity can be fun especially at work!
Now Playing: *smacks self* I can't listen to music at work...meh.
Topic: Work Rants
Edit: This is the 90th post!! HURRAY!!! *mich's yells "pie for everyone"* NO WAIT! that's my PIE!!

I’ve been having the BEST two days at work! Petro Canada gave me the assignment yesterday of dealing with the constant profanity we’ve been getting on the FAQ page. You know stuff like “shit phone” “this site is crap” sort of stuff--Which we both really find hilarious but it's not getting any hits. So, I was asked to make an answer--like “thank you for your comment” or whatever, a rule (I'm not explaining this it's programming BS I don't understand anyways), and "hit" words *rubs hand* this is where the fun began!!

I got to spend two hours thinking up swear words and miss-spellings of swear words that I grouped together in a synonym category under “Profanity.” To link to the half-assed answer I just wrote--which really does start off saying "thank you for your comment" Bahahahahahah!

I even got my co-workers to help!

ME: *ringing* Hey, Abena, I need some swear words
Abby: got bitch
ME: *looks* yeah, god that one…
Abby: ah…you got asshole
ME: DUH, how did I forget asshole! Thanks! *hang up*

OH, I found a useless hidden talent for coming up with good combo swears I never knew I had. Petro's personal favorite was “whore ass” *pats self on the back* I told you I was good at combos. :P I think I shocked him when he looked though my list of "hit" words—everyone thinks I’m so innocent, Riiiight! Yeah, little prissy heather knows words like “cock sucker” OH MY! lol. I really think it was the fact that a girl actually wrote “cunt” that surprised them the most—I don’t know why thou, I thought “cock mother fucker shit” was WAY more offensive *shrug* Boys. :P

Two posts in one day does that make up for not posting last time? *everyone yells "NO"* Jeez, okay, okay *mutters to self* you ppl need lives. pff.

They?ve won me over with food.
Now Playing: "Is that your heart I just stabbed with a butcher knife" teehee. :P
Topic: Work Rants

We were sent an E-mail on Thursday Morning saying that all SECA (Samsung Canada) employees were to report to the 9th floor boardroom at 4pm for a gift. I raised an eyebrow at what Samsung would concern a gift since all I’ve received so far was a pen that gave out in a week and a keycard clip that everyone says is crap (my keycard is still attached..OMG!! It just fuckin’ broke!! I’m serious!! AUGHH!)

Side whine about my broken keycard clip.

WAHH!! My keycard clip!! NOOO!!! I loved it! It had this string that extended so I didn’t’ have to unclip it. Last week I noticed the string was thinning but I didn’t think it would break *sniff sniff* in the middle of the above last sentence I was just playing with it and SNAP it became a flying projectile. I know Upstairs wont give me a new one! (They said so when they gave it to me) Well I’ll just wear the Samsung clip-part like an idiot and look retarded—maybe someone from HR will pity me and give me a new one.

Back to “They won me over with food”

Anyways, I was skeptical of this supposed “gift” and so were many other employees. We started the office gossip ring to find out any details—even sent spies upstairs to see if any upper management-type would give us a few hints (yeah, we have THAT much time on our hands). All we got was it might be pie. I was happy with that thou (Free food around here is sort of Samsung’s trademark) nothing special *strung* but not bad. So, we all got back to work satisfied with out upcoming pastry party at 4.

Around 3:45 I didn’t smell any pie so I thought the rumor was a fake…damn it I wanted PIE! Then my boss gets up and points at me and sternly say “You, get in there” (my desk is right next to the 9th floor boardroom) I was like WHAA! I’m in trouble!! BUT BUT WAHH!! I wanted Pie!! Did I do something bad and now we’re not getting pie? My fear grew as my boss yelled at each person in our department to get into the boardroom. What? We all did something bad, now NO ONE gets pie?

I walk (half ran) into the boardroom in a panic to not piss off my boss more and was welcomed with a loud “Happy Thanksgiving” WOW! Wait a minute here! What’s going on! I look down and on the table was PIE!! But not eatable pie, frozen Still-in-the-cardboard-packaging pie (INNER HEATHER: awww...that’s so nice of them but DAMN IT DAMN IT! I wanted pie!). I was even MORE shocked to see gift cards. We all lined up like piece-workers: Table one, find you name; Table two, get a $25 gift card to the grocery store; Table Three: 25 pound enormous frozen pie.

I’m happy to conclude, I now like my job—or at least the company I work for. *sign* they won me over with food, THOSE bastards!!