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The aroma of a disreputable God.

I may be cursed.

I have tried to find an old gypsy woman to verify this, but have come out with snake eyes so far.

I usually live a life that is an interesting cross between golden-child kind of charmed and red-headed bastard son of a medieval lord.

Odd combination, but I usually come out on top.

Until today.

I have mentioned my sense of smell, or rather lack of, before?

For those who are new or not paying attention, I have had some unfortunate breaks of my nose that have ruined my sense of smell.

Among the many scents I cannot enjoy, body odor, affectionately known as BO, is one of them.

I also cannot smell most flowers. (This is almost a crime.)

But not being able to smell BO? I am ok with that. (It almost, but not quite, makes up for no flowers.)

Again, until today.

I am in a Starbucks I have never been in before. (Is that even possible?)

I set up my laptop, grab my coffee, cream and sugar to perfection and head back to my seat.

And then it hits me.

The smell.

I have never smelled a human like Crepitus before.

Crepitus has BO on the level of decomposition.

Check that fucker for a pulse, if you dare to get that close.

Crepitus, for those who don’t have time to research ridiculous crap like this, is the Roman God of Flatulence.

Might be the walking dead for all I know.

Good show, but who knows where the extras on that show go between seasons? (I can’t prove they are not using real zombies in that show.)

Anyway, the smell is an overwhelming thing, like a person unto itself.

A really obnoxious person.

With a personality (Smell) that is aggressive and in your face.

Like an olfactory version of a used car salesman.

They say that the course of human events changes because of the deeds of great men.

I disagree.

I think the course of human events changes because of the stench of random people.

Smell makes the world go around.

However, smell is currently making me lose interest in my coffee, its THAT bad.

There are those people in life that have such a narcissistic view of the world that they have no clue about how they affect the world around them.

No man is an island.

Bullshit.

I can name ten that are land-locked islands with no sense of the other islands on all sides.

And they are not going to change any time soon.

And then, as it always does, shit changes. (Do you see the irony here?)

Crepitus gets up, possibly shits himself, and leaves.

The door opens a few times, letting a little more fresh air in each time.

A woman sits at the next table that has what I would normally think of as too much perfume.

But not today.

Today, even shitty perfume in quantity is a delight.

Now that Crepitus is gone.

And I can get back to my coffee.

 

The books are out! Check them out here! The Caffeinated Humor Series

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Posted by on June 24, 2019 in Uncategorized

 

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Hi Ho, Hi Ho, you know the rest.

There is an odd energy to being unemployed.

Like you are forgetting something that you just can’t remember.

But its always there.

And an element of laziness.

That would be my immigrant blood talking.

If you are not so sick or damaged that you are in hospital, why the hell aren’t you at work?

That voice in the back of my head sounds suspiciously like my father, but we are not here to analyze, just share.

I found myself caught in a layoff a month ago.

I hate surprises, especially when they interrupt my day to day.

I am a fan of consistency.

Mainly because you can never count on inconsistency.

Here is one of the main issues with job hunting.

Paranoia is your best friend.

You want to come across as a nice guy, exactly who they want, but your best bet is to approach it like borderline paranoid schizophrenic.

There are so many job scams going on, it boggles the mind.

Resumes services, recruiters that need a “fee” because they work with “exclusive” clients. (I hate using quotes, its annoying.)

I was a recruiter, worse, I was a “headhunter” during the Dot Coms. (Headhunter deserves quotes, we were shameless money whores.)

But even we didn’t have the yarbles to try and charge candidates selling them like human cattle for a DANDY profit.

These are the guys I love to keep on the phone for a long time, giving them the impression that the hook is solidly set into my upper lip.

Like telemarketers, these are people who think they are slick.

Its only when they realize that you are jerking them around that they get pissed.

I had one threaten to KICK MY ASS.

I pointed out that, as they had my resume, they knew where I lived, and further invited them by for said ass kicking.

Not that I think I am such a badass that I live without fear, far from it.

I am half a century old and chubby. (Cardio kickboxing can only do so much.)

I am not gonna be laying people out left and right, not even on a good day.

But, and here is the really weird part, I have had my ass kicked by people that are inhumanly good at it.

So, my fear of a mediocre smack down is low level at best.

Now, we move on to the shady types that have jobs.

I say shady because they have a job, but not one you want.

Among other things, I do sales.

Here is the general rule with sales:

  1. The higher the salary, the easier the sale and the more you want someone of a certain minimal level of quality to stay in the role for the long term. There are few jobs like this. Mainly because when someone gets one of these jobs, they never leave.
  2. The lower the salary, the harder the sales. When you are seeing something that is 100% commission, that is a really hard sale and the company doesn’t want to waste money on people who may never make that sale. Real Estate Agents and Car Salesmen live in this category. Yes, there is a reason they have that reputation.
  3. Never be afraid to let the employer know how much you love money. Sales is the only position that being “Money driven” is not only acceptable, its preferred.

As a general rule, any job that you cannot get a clear answer of what it is on the phone, that you have to come in for, is shady as fuck.

The person the phone wants you to come in because physical presence twists the equation enough that he has a better chance of you going for it.

And thats when you find yourself signing up friends and family to sell candles, insurance, weight-loss products and dildos. (I have seen family members selling all of those items.)

Now, this is just my opinion, I am not looking to throw the stink eye on anyone’s sale, but when you find yourself selling a double headed dildo to a blood relative, you have made a bad decision in the long run.

But that is just me. (Double headed dildos creep me out.)

I am an asshole before I have my coffee.

Alright, I am an asshole after, I am just happier.

Mmmm coffee…

 

 
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Posted by on May 12, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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Pride goes before getting fucked over.

It is an odd thing to watch someone losing their fucking mind in public.

And before we go any further, I realize there is a percentage of those reading this that have their panties in full twist mode just because I may or may not have prematurely F-bombed in the first sentence.

And I tried not to, I really did.

I rewrote the opening line several times.

And it just doesn’t work without the “fuck” in there.

So here is where we are at, physically and sarcastically.

Panera Bread in Redondo Beach.

The outside patio.

I started off inside, glorying in the delicious air conditioning because its hot out. (Its the middle of October, for fucks sake!)

And then I saw him.

The salesman.

And when I say, “Losing his fucking mind in public.” maybe I am sugar coating it a little bit.

He’s a suit, expensive one, the shoes have a power shine on them and his tie defines “Success”.

Except that the suit is slightly off

The tie has been loosened.

The first two buttons on the shirt are undone.

This opens the shirt more than the loosened tie will let it and makes the whole look even more off.

His face is twisted up into a painful grimace. (Not even that somewhat creepy Grimace from the McDonalds commercials, circa 1970.)

He is pissed.

I will call him Suit, because it really is a nice cut. He has taste.

But I gotta see this up close.

I have my headphones on, its important that he think I can’t hear him, and I carry my open laptop outside and park at a nearby table, completely engrossed in what is happening on my screen.

There is nothing on my screen, but he doesn’t need to know this.

“Lanny! You are a fucking rapist!”

This is the first thing I hear him say and as far as opening lines go, it is hands down one of the best I have ever heard.

A quick internet search for the proper manners or etiquette for publicly shitting yourself yields nothing concrete, so I am going to have to wing it and just keep listening.

Here is what I learned over the next 5 minutes:

  • Lanny, a business partner, has just screwed Suit over to the tune of $10’s of thousands. (The salesmen that are reading this are nodding their heads, its the nature of sales.)
  • Suit is somehow convinced that Lanny will give up those untold thousands if Suit berates him long enough.
  • Suit keeps referencing “Dan and Lori” and that they will not sit still for this. (They may be the bosses of this little evil empire. Jury is still out.)

In the end, Suit wound down and it finally seemed to settle in that he was fucked.

What really struck me was how long it took him to accept the fact that he was fucked.

Lanny was never going to give the money/sale back. I never even met the man and I figured it out well before Suit did.

Dan and Lori, being the bosses, don’t give two shits. They care that the sale was made. Thats it. I have worked for more Dan and Lori’s than I like to remember.

But, like the business version of a goldfish, Suit will forget his pain 30 seconds later when he closes another deal.

Sales is like that. It has no mercy and recognizes no friends other than money, and the relationship could hardly be called friendly.

I wish Suit well, and hope he closes something wonderful soon.

While I don’t particularly care for him, I do admire his taste in clothes.

Lanny, rot in hell you retched bastard, I have also worked with a lot of Lanny’s before.

And they are all assholes.

 
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Posted by on October 16, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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