Category Archives: cranky

Reflection on this year of our satan, 2016:

too-adult-today

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December 21, 2016 · 3:33 pm

It’s just one of those days

Am I right, or what?

Am I right, or what?

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Filed under cranky, tv, Uncategorized

This is the dawning of the age of the bitchy office notes

At first I was willing to deal with the office monster in extremely good humor. See ? I even came to the defense of the fridge monster because 1. That note was written by the hand of someone who gives too much of a fuck 2. Because fridge monster at that point had eaten two containers of hummus I left in there and I wasn’t really that bothered because 3. I used to be the fridge monster at my last job

But since I wrote my hilarious response to office bastardry, and I thought I had sorted out some solidarity with hungry co-worker and fellow thief; fridge monster seems to have taken sole and exclusive comfort in my lunch bag. With extreme consumption prejudice – they ate my leftovers.  I’ve retaliated.
photo (1)
photo (2)

I don’t even know myself anymore.  The hunted has become the hunter.

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Filed under Animals, broke, cranky, food, work

The rise of office bitchery

While I would generally never update twice in the same week, something so magical has happened that it warranted the effort to type.

Like a phoenix rising from bitchy ashes, more passive aggressive notes have flown into the break room.

let me fill the break room with my suck!

let me fill the break room with my suck!

It’s honestly better than I could ever wish for:

RAR RAR RAR WRATH WRATH WRATH. "I'm going to write this instead of a nice note that says 'please don't eat my food, I'm broke and doing so is silly'" RAR RAR RAR

RAR RAR RAR WRATH WRATH WRATH. “I’m going to write this instead of a nice note that says ‘please don’t eat my food, I’m broke and doing so is silly'” RAR RAR RAR

I feel this person’s pain. So I wrote a note in solidarity (or in sarcasm). I think it speaks for itself:

Only when it feeds upon the blood of the innocent will the refrigerator monster leave us alone!

Only when it feeds upon the blood of the innocent will the refrigerator monster leave us alone!

Together. In perfect unity.
photo (22)

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Filed under cranky, doodles, food, letters

The bloom is off the rose

I had a glow-y feeling about employment for a very brief juncture. However, I think it can now be summed up by this crudely executed illustration:

a human graph

a human graph

This is my co-workers and myself. At the very end is a loaf of bread meant to graphically depict our slow march to the bread line.

(I’ll let you guess which one might be me).

(It’s the one screaming with their arms crossed)

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Filed under cranky, doodles, work

The hows and whys that involve me buying frozen vegetables

It’s a very special day in a young woman’s life when she gets to explain to people that the black eye that she is sporting is because an overweight cat jumped on her face while she was sleeping.

This will make the boys come a-runnin'

This will make the boys come a-runnin’

I would love to claim that this was the first time that I was bruised because of my cat. But, of course, that wouldn’t be true.
kitty bruises

And I would be lying if I didn’t say I was mildly concerned about what Liono’s actual motives are these days.

I'm coming for you

I’m coming for you

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Filed under Animals, cats, cranky, pets

Holiday Hell Tour: A Molesty Santa

There are certain things that are sacred and unjoking in my [you] life and those are the traditions I have with my closest mates. For the last ten years we have celebrated two things: our own (un PC named) version of Thanksgiving ( see: youfood for the full update), and the other thing is our annual photo with Santa.

Look at those fly people

Look at those fly people

During the holidays tradition is important.

And one part of this holiday tradition is how much bad touching Santa seems to get away with when I sit on his lap.

In the past it was always just a joke pertaining to the fact that due to my size I would have to be the one perched on Santa’s lap. It was a perfect set up for a joke.

However this year Santa amped up his perv game. When I went to sit on his lap it seemed like awkward quarters, what with so many people flanking us. I ended up plopping onto Mrs. Klaus’s lap. So I popped up off her diminutive frame, but Santa full on grabbed my hips to “re-adjust me” on top his lap. And on the way down onto the holiday lap, Santa got a handful of my ass.

He has his hand on my freaking hip in this shot. Damn you, Santa!

He has his hand on my freaking hip in this shot. Damn you, Santa!

So, Santa is kind of a douche bag.

Happy holidays from You Life (and Bear Ambulance) to you

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Filed under cranky, friends, Holidays, horrifying