Here's and Theres and Drown a Bitch

Here is a quick throw down of isolated shit to dump off so I can move onto other things, of which are many. My story backlog is reaching a level of frown that I need to de-stack piece by piece until it's a more organized library, so to speak. Keeping all the things I want to talk about wrapped in my head does nothing but clutter the pile and leave me speaking in nonsensical sentences.

That said, not that any of these photos are the "dump off" I claim, I've just wanted to share them for a while. I think they are a gorgeous peek into the charmed Morgan world.

For valentine's day, since I had nothing to offer Mr. Morgan (and I DO have something... it's just not arrived, tardy fuckers) I made the dogs do a photo shoot for Dad. Ok, for mom. Alas my appealing and well trained beasts doing their best to tell dad how much they love him........


What dis?
Oh, it's a wearable?? Okay.

And me sigh. I won't even claim to try and say that seksi was a goal. I look tired because I AM tired. Poofy, because I am poofy and too give-a-fucky to reach for makeup. The salmon robe was my valentine gift and didn't even have the tags off before I was jolting through the house in it's warmy love. So ya, I look like piss but I look like happy piss. No faking that I love you in my eyes.

But then it was Simon's Birthday!!! I don't really know for certain, but based on the fact that Leedy Beat moved out when she was roughly eleven, and he was 1 year younger.... I've fed this little spy bastard for over a decade. We've had headaches, toothaches, tears, cheers and most recently the anal glands to celebrate over our time together. He makes me very angry, more often than he should but mostly because he's gone old on me and I'm scared to fucking pieces of the demise. Who thinks like that when the kid is staring at you right? I do. I don't know how I will ... well, later for that. So I threw his ass a party. Ghetto party with yank hats? YES SIR!

Birthday Boy, scorned.

I did however give proper birthday eats. Simon likes the Ceasar soft food. Who wouldn't, it pictures a happy dog with a happy mouth and smells like things he doesn't get everyday. Simple party, but I acknowledged my WeeMan for living another year and he kinda did the same for me a few days after.

New art, new wall portion. The photo once again is fairly piss poo, but enlarge to see (hopefully) greater detail. The man is in fact drowning at the bottom, it was not planned. It happened as a facet of my temper, the temper flarer not worth my time to even give credit to. Oh, the peacock feathers are not my art, they are real and very lovely. For the feet, of course they look cartoony, I CAN draw real feet. Not as good as I draw a boob probably but... the whole thing except for the sudden drowning, is intentional. Needs stronger borders but out of sharpies. /fist shake.

Ok whew, one thing off my mental pile. Next shall come the customer service greedy consumer rant, and a few more experiences that are still entertaining me. Have you ever been front row to a complete meltdown that you had no control over nor no personal participation in, yet were held hostage to it's time-slowing breakdown of "oh my god am I gonna live? Should I laugh? Do I begin the floor bound army crawl towards the nearest exit?"

Go figure, I had one of those exact moments this last week and will be glad to share. Comment me guys, feeling a tad chilly here all by myself.

- DM

Hopscotch and Jesepe

Making some progress on my room. It's slow and arduous, detailed to a retarded fault that my camera - once so cutting edge not too long ago - now takes so-so photos in comparison.

Wanna see what I've done so far? Well, first I had to paint my room, all done in about one day, roughly, since once those paint fumes really kick in the clock turns into Wonderland Time and I may have been in there for a week, sitting on the floor with a box of crayons and a catchy hum scratching from my throat.

This is my station:

It's all built in, obviously, and is messy in this photo since ... ya know.... it's MY room and I have no shame in admitting my slop. Truthfully though, I'm just done working on a piece you will see below so "tidy" is not terribly important to me until done. I am required to have that door on the right open so Super Puter can breathe. She runs heavy winded. But for all the cords required to facilitate my station properly... the former house owners set it up ingeniously, not a single visible cord if doors are closed. Except my electric blanket under there, but even there it's remote control snuggles comfortably into the drawer.

Behind the pc station:

Nice laminate flooring for the easy scoot and spin. How many raffes do you think are in each of the photos above? I had to count, I barely notice them but know they are always somewhere.

First piece I started.

Then got super happy and discovered that whiskey is funny. Who fucking knew? I went into a fit of giggles, saw a sharpie, and drew - because I needed another right? - a cartoon giraffe on the wall. A big one. With big goofy eyes and a busy mouth, next to a palm tree. Why the palm tree? Don't know, ask the smart-ass-sense-of-humor-having whiskey. I just know I threw it on the wall in less than five minutes and marched to bed.

The sketch I woke up to thinking I would be revisiting the paint fumes again:

I did not paint over the raffe, Jesepe, turned into this:

Hard to grasp scale, but his goofy ass is roughly 4 feet neck to horns (enlarge by clicky on Jes, not a crisp photo... but all I could get). Palm tree gets to stay too, lol I'll figure out something to do with it. Mr. Morgan is thrilled I'm drawing things other than ladies and that I am using color. I appreciate it as a sincere compliment but I also suppose I presumed he knew I can in fact probably draw anything I want to, and additionally, absence of color is intended in that annoying artist way, so that the viewer can color it in their own mind. God forbid anyone paint their own inner picture right? But it's fine. Color don't scare me none!

Don't skip the below entry, part two later this next week, I'm sure Monday will give me plenty of inspiration to bitch.

Last but not least, Simon caught stealing...... I couldn't slide the "you steal it, you wear it" rule for him

and yes, Kylee was giggling into a seizure since she's generally the busted offender.


- DM

ps - Give up? There are 3 giraffes in the first photo, and 4 in the second. :) Play Where's Waldo, I assure you they are there.

Customer Serv... with ICE.

Ah alas the art of customer service, and I can assure that such is indeed an art. There is a hierarchy of customer service. If you are a teenager who chews gum at work and don't give a toss, it shows, and you make those of who by whatever circumstance do take their job seriously, and sometimes even feel that tingle of "go me!" for making someone smile. If being a sloppy fuck applies to you, try to do it elsewhere until school starts again. We know where you store your energy drink left-overs and know you will drink it with or without fuzz and leave it open all day for anyone to spit in. The stories.... are true. Or could be?

There is a myriad of levels to CS.

1. Retail.
2. Sales.
3. Sales and Retail.
4. Commissioned sales and retail.
5. Selling commissioned retail FOR someone to earn brownie points you'll never see who take the credit and cash for.
6. Phone sales or dealing with incoming calls.
7. Scheduling pick ups/delivery/cancellations or the neutering of your dog, for convenience, we aim to please.
8. CS requiring empathy, i.e. anything medical or dealing with bills people can't afford and lay their souls out in front of you begging that you trade a handful of magic beans for the upward silent chin jerk of "go on and get out of here, I'll figure it out and smooth shit down. Worry another day."
9. Or my job... all of the above.

Unfortunately, unless you are really good at it, and unless you are liked enough to talk your way into giving someone a pass..... the get lost for now thing won't work so don't try that at home Gum Chewers. If you lose money for your company consistently, you will be fired, but you won't care. However, if you are good at it, you can swing a pass for the customer because you know you will get a return and that person will rave about you. Career CS-ers like myself depend on that. You may get burned a time or two, but alas... in time it can be avoided by and large with nothing more than experience.

If I haven't weeded out the amateur-ants yet (and don't even get comfy grasshoppers... I have words for your selfish asses in a minute) learn on.

Preface - I don't have a title. Desk jockey perhaps. People have handed me papers and shit to do with papers and people since I was 16. I feel like I invented the stapler and made a very wrong turn at the point that it needs occasional refilling when no one seems to know what the fuck a staple even is and scatter like rats.

Ants:

1. The customer is never right. Not completely anyhow. They are often even assholes insisting they are right justto make you look an idiot and win their whiny case. You can't convince ALL assholes that it's not the end of the world, some assholes actually seek out Ants to prove that they can in fact behave like dicks and get away with it by making a scene to everyone in a block radius. For the most part however, most assholes are the result of you not running damage control on the potential scene. Cmon, you saw the asshole approach.... ready to pounce. You didn't diffuse. Your bad, take the asshole wrath. Next time, you'll remember asshole by name - and don't call the asshole his proper moniker, but stop the bitchfest before it can begin by addressing on a personal level inquiring how to help things roll better this time. I'm not saying that you shouldn't be full on acknowledging that person's presence as negative - I learn names faster than lightening by negative pain in the ass association encounters from the past. So it's not a bad idea to know your assholes intimately, but they don't need to know exactly why you are giving them special attention. Acknowledge... don't let anyone think you are ignoring them, especially if you are. Resign yourself early on, you will never please someone who wakes up shitty and intends to stay that way. I tried for almost seven years and it wasn't her back that broke. Don't bother thinking you can prove a point and that just because you may be a nice person, that the quality exists in everyone. It soooooo doesn't. Negative energy likes to spread and it's only goal is to take you with it.

2. If you suck, please quit. You drag down the day of already shitty mood-ed people who might be headed my way and I have to work twice as hard because they've already felt pissed on and I don't want misguided punishment because you hate your job and had an attitude.

Matter fact.... try this - it's epic and would earn you respect in my book. A real employee knows when their time has come.



4. Really know your craft. Once mastered, a great majority of the time you can speed things along and have a smooth transaction that will get that person to go away. Is that my ultimate goal on any given day, whether I'm on the clock or not? Unless you are George Clooney, yes. Sorry gang, but I'm quite self driven and I do tend to think on a "what will make my life easier" level, and it generally serves me well.

5. Last, and it's just interesting fact if you do it naturally - if you smile when you are talking, your voice changes. Now this won't work if you are already holding a hatchet and the police are coming because one last fucker pushed your final nerve. Add a question mark to the end of your sentences. Not excessively or you'll sound like "so... like, this one time at band camp?" and that's no good.

NOW.... Grasshopping Cocksuckers. Part two to come soon, until then try to remember your emergency is not my priority if you approach me like I'm personally responsible for not helping you before I even know what your fucking problem is. Give me a chance, decent likelihood it can be handled, like adults. If not.... well, Douche 101 will enlighten. Once again, address said freaking-out-for-a-silly-ass-reason person and let them both look and be pissed. You'll be right with them (ahem) and very interested in watching them mentally combust for the 30 seconds it takes to wait their turn.

- DM