Monthly Archives: December 2011

Touchdown Jesus & The Gruppensexfilme

For those of you that have blogs of your own, you know how entertaining it can be to check out the terms and phrases that people type into search engines that lead them to your blog.  Is some crazy shit, no?  For those of you that do not have blogs, keep reading  and I’ll show you how crazy people and  TheGoogle are.

Internets, I give you my favorite search terms that somehow led people to my little piece of insanity on the Interwebs in 2011.  Enjoy and Happy Fucking New Year!

 

~ touchdown jesus falls in pond     This is so many levels of awesome I just had to research what this person was looking for.  You can read about Touchdown Jesus here or if you’re too lazy to go clickin’ and readin’ I’ll just tell you that Jesus rises from the earth just north of Cincinnati on I-75 next to Traders World Flea Market because, of course.  But who wouldn’t want to read about a 62 foot Jesus?  And read about said 62 foot Jesus getting struck by lightning?  I still don’t know how the hell that search term brought someone to this blog.

Classy.

~

~ Gruppensexfilm     Not here, my friend.  Not here.  OK, here but it was just that one time.  Don’t tell my mom.

~ Purple panties     Kerr-ist.  You put one picture of your purple undies on your blog and the internet pervies keep landing on your site.

~ cunty whores     I know what happened here.  These people were mistakenly directed here when they were obviously looking for this woman.

~ fuck now suffer later     What the what?

~ i need sugar handjob     OK, this just sounds painful.  But who am I to judge where people need exfoliating.

~ donkey down the road     How did this search term lead someone here?  How???  And what does it mean??

~ bloody soup with sugar    You scare me, crazy Googler.

~ are nipples appendages         No.  In the anatomy of mammals, a nipple or mammary papilla or teat is a small projection of skin containing the outlets for 15-20 lactiferous ducts arranged cylindrically around the tip. The skin of the nipple is rich in a supply of special nerves that are sensitive to certain stimuli. The physiological purpose of nipples is to deliver milk to the infant, produced in the female mammary glands during lactation.  source  (You know I’m not capable of writing a paragraph about nipples without using profanity and/or the tee-hee-hee humor of a 7 year old.  Of course I copy-pasted.) 

~ “crystal gayle” “bra size”     I don’t know, Google it.  Oops.  That’s how you got here in the first place. 

~ what is there to do as a nudist in vancouver bc     First thing you should do is question why you’re in Canada in the first place.  Because come on, it’s fucking Canada.

~ i love dad but farts     ?????

~ bed panties     Are you looking for purple ones?  If the answer is yes, then you’ve come to the right place.

~ how awesome i am     Me?  I’m pretty fucking awesome.

~ learn how to read thoughts     Be careful what you wish for, Googler.  Do you really want to know what someone like this is thinking? 

I was totally going to put a picture of some crazy nutbar person here but then I saw this picture of a teeny-tiny frog and was all like ZOMG that is so fucking cute! See what Google does to people.

~

sexy pony 69     Words.  I have none.

house plants     I shit you not, Internets.  This was at the top of the list for search terms that brought people to my blog.  HOUSE PLANTS!!!  FUCKING HOUSE PLANTS!!!  I have lost so much faith in The  Google.  Seriously, that shit is totally ruining my street cred.  House plants…….fucking Google…..

Well I think that’s enough of that.  I should probably knock this shit off since I’m on my work computer.  What?  I think we all know by now I do very few work related activities while I’m at…errr….work.  Shut up.

Cheers ~ SF

*click images for source

 
 
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I Seriously Could Not Think Of A Title For This Post

I was hoping this post would be a follow-up to my last post about Dr. McDoucheyfuck and his sexist note he sent with an employee to return to work.  And because you all know me for my hard-hitting, no-holds-barred, get the story at all costs journalism skills I did all I could do to find out what the doc’s response to my boss’s email inquiry about “women’s work” would be.  And when I say I did all I could do I mean I sat at my desk for the last two days eating Cheetos and looking at pictures of cats on the internet.  Nobody has said anything further on the matter so I’ll assume that he never responded.  Jerk.

Wanna talk about Christmas?  No?  Me either but we’re going to anyway. 

Bruce and I don’t really “do” Christmas.  Not because of any religious reasons, we just don’t really give a shit about it.  We do so much for ourselves and each other all year-long that we don’t feel the need to break the bank for a holiday that is marked with a questionable color scheme just because Wal-Mart says we should.  It just doesn’t mean anything to us.

I do, however, send cards to my family and his.  It’s just a nice thing to do and a way to say, “Hey.  I’m thinking about you. Merry Fucking Christmas!”  I don’t just send the card signed all generic either.  Nope, I like to put a little note in there saying how things are going and such.  OK, so I’ve only done that once and it was last year.  The point is, that I’d like to do it again this year.  The cards are all bought and let me just tell you they’re fucking awesome.   (There’s a Santa on a toilet!  Tee-hee.)  But that’s all I’m going to say because my family reads this nonsense that I write here.  I know.  I’m sure I’m making my mother proud.  Anyway, the problem I’m having is writing the note for the card considering the recent string of shittiness my family has endured and are still reeling from.

Here’s what I’ve got so far:

Dear 2011:  Go fuck yourself. ~ Love,  Me

But that’s not very Christmasy is it?  Let’s try again:

Well, 2011 was not an easy one, was it?  I know this Christmas season is going to be difficult for all of us considering the loss of Shaun.  I remember this feeling from last Christmas; our first after losing Bob…

What the fuck??  Was I thinking of mentioning death, not once, but twice in a Christmas card?  Backspace! Backspace!

I want to write something that’s cheerful and lighthearted with a bit of funny in it because I love my family and I want to cheer everyone up.  But how do I do that without sounding like I’m all tra-la-la-la-la-happy and not still sad?  Because I am still sad.  But I don’t want to send something that will make the recipient have a mother-fucking breakdown because it’s a recap of all of the things that have blown goats nuts this year. 

::sigh::

I need to go find a writer. 

Cheers ~ SF


Fun With HR – Volume 1: Sexism Edition

That's Not The Kitchen

Oh man, Internets, have I got a hot one for you today.  Seriously, I knew the moment that I saw this gem it was going right on this blog. 

Ok, first of all, I should tell you what I do for work because my brain has been pickled by vodka so I can’t remember if I’ve ever mentioned it before.  I work in the Human Resources department for a gigantic soul-sucking corporation in Seattle.  Please, please, stop with the oooh’s and aaaah’s.  It’s glamorous, I know. 

Working in HR, I see all sorts of fascinating documents.  Documents like gender and race self-identification forms, criminal history disclosure forms, union dues authorizations, counseling notices,  sexual harassment policies, W-2’s AND W-4’s, accident/injury reports, the oh-so-sexy WOTC 8850 forms, permits, I-9 documents, and….  Oh fuck, the list goes on and on.  But I’ll stop because I can see how jealous you are of my glitzy job.

The focus of today’s post is not on any of the aforementioned documents but on one of my faves:  medical documents.  More specifically, the one that fell in my hot little hands yesterday morning regarding an employee’s return to work after an injury. 

Recently an employee, who we’ll call Brad because that’s what his name is, took a leave from work for some fucking foot problem or something.  In order for us to let him return to work,  Brad was required to bring a release from his doctor stating that he was all better and at what capacity he is able to work.  You know, like no lifting or whatever.  Brad’s doctor sent him in with a note alright and it was something to behold, Internets. 

Are you ready for this?  Are you??

This is a direct quote from the good Doctor’s release:                                        

“He has improved sufficiently enough to return to work on 12/08/11.  I advise that he do the “woman’s work” for the first three days.  After that he should be able to perform at his normal level.”

Ummm…….what?

I’m confused.  Why does this doctor want Brad to start out the first three days working harder than usual then go back to being a slacker?

Woman’s work?  Hold on a second while I check what year it is.  It’s 2011?  OK, that’s what I thought.  Because for a moment there I thought it was whatever time Little House On the Prairie was set in and the doctor was this guy:

…and he wanted Brad to do something like this for the next 3 days:

Something's missing.... Oh! She should have a baby on her tit while she's churning that butter.

Or this:

Both hands, woman!!

Or maybe this:

Is she wearing shoes? Oh she better not be wearing fucking shoes in the kitchen.

Who is this fucking toolbag doctor???  I cannot believe that a mother-fucking medical “professional” wrote that.  Furthermore, I can’t believe Brad brought that note in and gave it to his boss…..who is in fact,  a woman!  Nevermind, I’m not surprised by that at all because Brad is a fucking asshole.

As much as I would love to publish this dickhead’s name, the name of his clinic, his address and his phone number here because I totally have it right in front of me,  I’m not going to because I’m pretty certain that I’m violating some confidentiality something or other just by talking about this outside of the office.  Because HR documents are like Fight Club, you don’t talk about it.  But I love you, Internets and I just had to share this with you because that’s what you do with your BFF’s, right?

Anyway, I’m just dying to read what you have to say about this so comment away my friends!

Cheers! ~ SF


What A Whore

Like so many other cities across the land, here in Seattle we have many forms of public transportation.  Buses, ferries, trains, trolleys and even a useless monorail thinger that goes like 6 blocks.  (Thanks 1962 World’s Fair!)  The best one by far, though, is the South Lake Union Trolley.  Or, as it is more commonly referenced; The S.L.U.T.

That’s right.  The S.L.U.T.  How awesome is that? 

Ride the S.L.U.T! 

The S.L.U.T really gets around!

The S.L.U.T. is so easy!

You can even get a shirt to show your love for the S.L.U.T.

click image for source and ordering info

Now it has been reported that once the trolley people realized the unfortunate acronym they changed it to the Seattle Streetcar.  It has also been said that it was never even considered to be a name for the trolley.  Either way, Seattle-ites have dubbed it the S.L.U.T. and it seems to be a name that is sticky….errrr…… sticking.

Cheers ~ SF