Strange Nikolai

not a stormtrooper

Archive for the tag “swearing”

What I hate today… menial workers

Is it politically correct to say Menial Workers? Do I care about political correctness? Not really, but I do care about being mean… this is not a class thing, I don’t hate all blue-collar type workers, there are specific people that are driving them up the wall, and they just happen to fit into the menial worker category…. or do they? I just thought of another person…

So. What brought this up? I hear you asking with baited breath and a sense of eager expectation normally reserved for those special nights when you know you’ll have the house to yourself and have found out the PIN code for the adult channels… Nothing quite that exciting I’m afraid – just this.

Every day, at work, I go to go to the loo. I walk maybe 100 metres down the corridor. And the toilets are closed for cleaning. Every. Day. Not every time I want to go to the toilet, just once each day. Around 1pm. Now before we explore the ‘what-the-fuck’-edness of this, let us address the concern that I may be meticulously time-planning my toliet breaks. I’m not. I usually go to the loo just before or after eating my lunch (don’t worry, I wash my hands), and it’s one of those weird co-incidences that whenever this happens, I look at my watch and it’s 1pm.

So back to the WTF!?! I like that our toilet is being cleaned every day, but who’s fukcing BRILLIANT idea was to time that for the middle of the work day. Around lunchtime. Every other office I have worked in has been cleaned after hours. This works for me. They have a job to do, but with just a little thought, they could make their job more efficient and not fuck with other people’s day.

And this is where I think, well yes, but why do you suppose they’re a cleaner in the first place? People who can think can generally get a better job…

Apply this same thing to glassies at a bar (if there is liquid in the vessel and someone sitting next to it, DON’T fucking pick it up), store workers at an electronics shop (if you don’t know the answer, DON’T fucking lie to me – I will come back and complain and yell in your ugly face until it makes me feel better), and supermarket workers (just ARRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!!) – not to mention bus/train drivers etc..

Hence the menial workers. But maybe I should have said “stupid lazy non-thinkers” in general. Because there are people in EVERY office I have worked in who drive me insane in the exact same way. These are the people who leave passive aggressive notes about not being your mother and cleaning your own coffee cup, and complain to anyone who will listen about how they fill and turn on the dishwasher every day… which they invariably seem to do at what time? Around 1pm. So, anyone eating lunch later than that CANNOT fucking put their fucking dishes in the fucking dishwasher because the fucking dishwasher is fucking turned on. Oh, and if there are no plates left and the dishwasher is on then you don’t even have the option of washing one for yourself. Oh well, I’ll just eat my hot soup out of my hands…

People are stupid. But I am happy.

Strangely Nikolai

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What I hate today… sticky beaks

I made the mistake of getting on the loser cruiser this morning without my trusty MP3 player. It’s not the lack of music that drives me insane, but the inane drivel that people talk about, in their fucking annoying accents, spouting absolute ignorance, speaking loudly enough that the whole bus has to hear the poisonous shite that comes vomiting from their pie-holes.

Normally I get frustrated at stupid teenagers, with their motherfucking this and motherfucking that, and the general bullshit and posturing that goes along with being a teenager. “Fuck that bitch, she is such a slut, I’ll fucking smash her, I don’t even care cos she is just a dick au”. You may think, how rich it is for YOU to be complaining about foul fucking language – but you know what? I don’t talk like that, unless I initially make it very shitting clear that I’m about to fucking embark on a cunting rant. Teenage swearing is all bollocks, it’s just a peer pressure thing, talking yourself up, trying to be the big man (even the girls). But in some ways I can forgive the ignorance of teenagers – I don’t want to fucking listen to them, but pretty soon they’ll find out what the real world is like – and if they stay the same posturing ignorant louts who think they can solve their problems with aggression and disrespect, they’ll either end up in some shit job in some shit town, or they’ll go to prison. And fuck ’em. Out of my sight, out of my mind.

What drives me up the wall is small-minded, middle-aged, self-important, stick-their-fucking-beaks-into-everyone-elses-fucking-business, think-they-know-everything-about-everything gobshites who go on to preach their particular brand of nonsense to anyone who might listen. Don’t get me wrong, gossip has it’s rightful place, but fuck it drives me mad when people spout nasty opinions about people they don’t know. I don’t want to be sexist, but it’s ususally women, and they ALWAYS seem to having one of those annoying whiney voices that’s just slightly too high and they elongate the last syllable of each sentence so it whines on longer and grates on the ear so much that your hand involuntarily makes a fist and you just feel like lashing out at something. Like Australians. (yes Brad, I just realised it’s just like the thing you do).

Today I had to listen to some up-herself BITCH go on and on about how Edmund Hillary’s family were squabbling over his watches (WTF??? How is that even News? it’s even fucking coming up in my “suggested links” but I’m not going to fucking link to that fucking shit) and how they were all nasty people who could barely hide their contempt for each other (irony much?), and how she didn’t think Edmund Hillary should have been named one of NZ’s greatest people “I mean what did he do in life? He climbed a mountain and I heard he didn’t even get to the top first, that was his sherpa Tanzang or whatever his name was, something ethnic anyway, and anyway I think it’s awful how he left the rest of his team behind and he just went off on his own, to get all the glory for himself…” and on, and on, and on.

What. The. Fuck! Lady, you don’t know SHIT. I bet you the furthest you have been from middle New Zealand is some shopping jaunt to Sydney, and the furthest you have been from the middle-class life you clearly enjoy is when you spent an hour and a half helping out at the local poor-people school jumble sale. There was just so much WRONG with what she was saying that I don’t know what to say about it…

I’m no expert on Sir Edmund Hillary, and for all I know he may have a bit of a selfish bastard, but if he was, he was a fucking AWESOME selfish bastard who did a huge amount for New Zealand and the Sherpa people and moutain climbers and outdoor enthuiasts everywhere. Just looking at his wiki page, he was named by Time magazine as one of the 100 most influential people of the 20th century. I think TIME FUCKING MAGAZINE know a bit more about the world than you do, you stupid bint.

Soon… soon I will be done with the Wellington loser cruiser…

Strangely Nikolai

Feel sorry for me

I has a booboo. This little foray into my personal life is probably not of any interest to normal blog readers (what is a “normal” blog reader?)  and may put people off reading in the future what has been up to now generally inane musings and hopefully humourous randomnimity. So please forgive me this vanity post. I’m in pain.

A brunette goes to the doctor and as she touches each part of her body with her finger she says, “Doctor it hurts everywhere. My leg hurts, my arm hurts, my neck hurts, and even my head hurts!” The doctor asks, “Were you ever a Blonde?”. “Yes, I was.” she replies. “Why do you ask?”. The doctor answers, “because your finger is broken!”

It’s an oldie but a baddie.

This is a phone pic so not the best, but yeah I smashed my index fingernail into a nail (a nail nail, or a wall nail, anyway it was metal and sticking out of the wall and about 15 cm long. Like proper big.) and it fecking hurts (I’m not swearing in this post 😉 ). It doesn’t help that I’m a 3 finger typer so every time I forget and hit a key with that finger I get pain shooting up my arm. Right now, I’m suffering for my art. If you can call this art. I really effing hope I don’t lose the fingernail. That would suck harder than paris hilton.

The good news is that the door and wall which had the nail in it is now dead. I killed it. I am the wallslayer. Fear my wally wrath. Grrr.

Today I will kill another wall, tomorrow we will have a “new” kitchen door, and in the next few weeks, a new kitchen. O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!

Strangely Nikolai

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