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From Russia With Love.

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I get it now [24 Mar 2007|02:04pm]
[ mood | irritated a little bit ]

My grandfather suggested I go to school for hotel & casino management (like everyone in MS does if they aren't already going to school to be a fucking card dealer or bartender). I told him I already know what I'm going to go to school for and I am excited. He said my idea was probably the easy way out (it isn't, that's stupid) and that hotel & casino operations was the best idea because there are plenty of jobs here.

Here are the reasons why I would rather be set on fire than to do this.

1. If I go to school to learn to manage a casino, it will be hard to find a job when I go to any of the (all but a dozen) cities in the world that don't have casinos. I hate casinos. I hate working for them. I don't want to live around them and I don't want to manage them.

2. I've worked at enough casinos to know that all casino managers are fucking miserable.

3. Being set on fire has a better benefits package.

I've finally realized the key to working at a casino is to do as little work as you can to get by. You never really get promoted based on your work ethic, so why kill yourself to do a good job? At the restaurant I'm working for now, I work my ass off everyday, and in turn, I'm rewarded with all of the hard jobs that none of the other lazy fucks want to do. Terrific! If I were running a casino, I wouldn't hire anyone that didn't want to do their job. And that would be my biggest problem right there.

Another problem I have is that I am going to take a second job so I can have the money to pay off my car and pay my rent and start school, but the only jobs in MS that pay anything are fucking casino jobs. Fortunately, I've been offered a valet job if I want it. If I have to work for a casino, I want to at least work outside of it.

The other reason I don't want a degree in hotel & casino operations is that I would want to run my department the way Deniro ran things in Casino (the movie). And then I'd go to jail or something.

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The next step in Ben's Mini project [24 Mar 2007|01:38am]
[ mood | tired ]


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Important news [21 Mar 2007|02:17am]
[ mood | dead ]

After lunch I was walking out to my car and I heard a noise, like a pipe bursting. A construction crew across the street had punctured a gas line and the workers were running around frantically turning cars in the other directions. I drove closer and a worker yelled for us to turn around, so we did. You could smell the gas all the way to the interstate, it was horrendous. I'm pretty sure all of the local businesses were evacuated, including Walmart, or at least I would hope so. And I would know for sure if this were an important news story, but the local newspaper is too busy covering Black Marriage Day, an important new holiday to be observed to "recognize the significance of marriage within the black community."


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Car crash photos [14 Mar 2007|10:56pm]
[ mood | drained ]

Somebody backed into my car the other night. The first two photos show the extent of the damage to his car. The third shows the damage to mine.

The guy offered to repaint my bumper at his shop but I declined because the paint is untouched. There's a slight fold on my front plate but nothing worth getting worked up over. I think he was worried I would make a big deal about it, and when I took out my camera to take these photos, he thought I was taking them for insurance purposes. I had to assure everyone that there was nothing to worry about.

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Ridiculous [01 Mar 2007|01:47pm]
[ mood | irritated ]

I sat at a red light for about 25 minutes today before realizing that the cars in front of me weren't going anywhere due to the police cruiser blocking them in. I pulled off into a lot and looked around and noticed more cruisers. Figured it was an accident or that maybe someone had been hit crossing the street, but didn't see anything. Then I noticed another cruiser blocking all the cars into the parking garage of one of the bigger casinos. I circled back and went down a few more blocks to try to get onto the beach. Another cruiser. I asked a lady what was going on and she told me the president was here. She sounded very happy to be stuck in traffic over the president.

Personally I'm not impressed.

We are under a "torando warning."

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Also [01 Mar 2007|08:16am]
[ mood | tired now, so I'm going to sleep ]


Fuck that. That bitch is having more fun as a dead body than I'm having as a living one!

Edit: I can't get off this. "SMITH'S BAHAMAS FUNERAL TO BE OVER THE TOP." I bet that even in her current state, she finds a way to become a drunken mess by the end of the ceremony.

Edit again: Barbie fucking Bandits?! And they haven't been caught? Fuck! It's so obvious! If you want to rob a bank and get away with it, make sure you look like every girl that's ever stepped out of a Volkswagen Jetta! I bet the entire cast of Laguna Beach is being held for questioning.

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So I guess this is what it's like [01 Mar 2007|08:04am]
[ mood | not so tired, not so awake ]

Went to bed at the usual 4 AM, had a really nice sleep and got up at 7:30 AM. Went out into the kitchen and had a glass of Coke. Had a pee, washed my face, brushed my teeth. Sat down at the computer for 30 minutes, now 31 minutes. I feel alright, being up and all. I've given a minute's thought to what I could do between now and 3:00 PM when I will have to be at the restaurant. But by now, after 31 minutes (now 32 minutes) of being awake, I really just want some more sleep. So much for that.


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Famous chefs [01 Mar 2007|01:46am]
[ mood | fuck you Rachael Ray, quit talking like a schoolteacher ]

I hate Rachel Ray, she's a twat. But I rather like Gordon Ramsay. If he were in a room with Rachel Ray, I bet he'd tell her she was a twat.

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Fuel efficiency [27 Feb 2007|01:05am]
[ mood | hungry ]

It becomes poor at 145 MPH.

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Retardo quote for February 25th, 2006 [25 Feb 2007|11:47pm]
[ mood | impressed ]

"I don't know why anyone would want to do that. Not only are they taking their lives but they're taking their own lives." - Retardo, responding to the news that someone had just been killed in a drive-by shooting near the casino.

This fucking woman just keeps cranking them out.

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Just keep thinking, "you're in MS, you're in MS" [25 Feb 2007|05:48am]
[ mood | awake ]

Work was a circus tonight. Or last night. Mind you, it's almost six in the morning and I got off at midnight. I've decided not to go to bed because if I do, I won't wake up until it's time to go back to the restaurant. This way I can enjoy sunrise, cook breakfast, and handle a few things I've been meaning to do. All of the idiots came out tonight. Here are a few select stories.

1. We have two counters at work that have deep tanks for ice. We fill the counters with ice and then lay fresh seafood on top of that. One counter has crawfish on ice, the other has shrimp. About an hour before we close, we put the shrimp in a large bowl and move it to the counter with the crawfish, and then clean the shrimp counter and prepare it for the next shift to put out breakfast. As I was leaning over the crawfish counter, a woman asked me to pile some of the crawfish on her plate because I had gloves on and it was quicker than grabbing them herself with the tongs. I obliged and she went on her way.

About five minutes later she came back, the mountain of crawfish and ice still on her plate. She stuck the plate in my face and said, "SIR. THESE CRAWFISH GOT COLD." "Yes ma'am, I think that's from being on ice all night." Fuck!

2. A woman came up to me and asked where we kept the bread. I told her it was at the other end of the counter. She walked to the other end, past the bread, and asked another worker nearby. He pointed to it and she walked over. She looked at an empty tray sitting beside the breadbasket and eventually noticed the nearby dinner rolls. Somehow the rolls didn't register, so she had to ask the other man, "IS THIS THE BREAD?" He didn't hear her. "IS THIS THE BREAD? SIR? IS THIS YOUR BREAD? SIR? IS THIS IT?" Yes, that's fucking bread. If you can't recognize it upon first glance, you shouldn't be eating it. There's too much of a risk that you'll choke yourself to death when you forget how to chew.

3. I was working the pan roast area, cooking soup and boiling shrimp. The shrimp are a bit spicy so when every other person comes up and asks me if they're hot, I automatically assume they mean spicy. Somehow tonight, everyone that asked me if they were hot actually meant temperature-wise. I figured the steam and boiling water was very conspicuous but apparently I was wrong.

4. There's some Swiss guy that comes from the piece of shit casino next door almost every night to eat. He's usually a bit too friendly, hanging out at the counter telling jokes nobody can understand and laughing way too loud. I don't mind really. Tonight though, he was in a terrible mood. He came up to my counter and started yelling to me about how we weren't grilling steaks. I told him we never grill them on the weekends because we serve prime rib. Then he told me we were out of crab legs. I looked back and pointed at the mound of legs on the crab counter. He acknowledged them but said they were all crap. Then he looked at my four pots of soup and complained that I didn't even have any soup made, although all four were definitely full. He came back about fifteen minutes later and bitched again about me still not having soup, although again, all four pots were full. One of the other ladies tried to tell him to come get some soup, but he stormed off in a rather hilarious Swiss rage that I can't really put to text. Another fifteen minutes went by, and he came back. This time he walked up to the counter and actually looked in the pots. Unfortunately the fucking idiot waited too long, and we had just finished cleaning out our pots for the night. Ha.

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My mom [24 Feb 2007|03:20pm]
[ mood | busy ]

She bought a lottery ticket this morning and keeps saying she's going to win $35,000,000. While I know deep down that she's an idiot with money, I almost feel optimistic. The thought of someone paying off my car and buying me a nice set of chef's knives is getting to me.

I'll make a follow-up post when I get home from work to let everyone know how broke she still is.

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For looking at [19 Feb 2007|11:11pm]
[ mood | not the donuts but the donut machines ]

Retardo [18 Feb 2007|11:50pm]
[ mood | exhausted ]

At the restaurant there's this one woman I always call Retardo. And I gauge how bad of a day it's going to be by how closely I'll be working to her each shift. Yesterday was bad because she didn't have any assigned place, they just told her to go around and help out anywhere she was needed. And since my station was the easiest, she figured she'd help me the most. She mostly just got in my way all day, asked for favors, bitched an awful lot, and then left the area looking like shit afterwards which I had to explain today.

And today was even worse because I had to work with her again. In the first ten minutes, she snapped at me for using her wet dishcloth to wipe down our counters before we opened. I tried to reason with her that there was a tall stack of clean rags right next to her, but she just wasn't having it. After all, those rags were dry, and the one she wanted was wet. And when I suggested she take a dry one and make it wet, her fucking head came off.

So to make a long story short, I figured Retardo out today. Having spent the first few weeks being very patient and very polite and ignoring her as much as possible and being mildly sarcastic when nothing else works, I figured out the secret, which is to tell her to shut the fuck up the first time she speaks. For the rest of the day she'll want nothing to do with you. It's beautiful.

I did get one pretty good quote out of her today, which I had to email to myself from my cell phone to keep from forgetting.

"Personally, I think hatred is bad." - Retardo, talking to three black women about the Aryan Nation.

And I guess that sort of sums it up.

But I want to go a little more in depth. The conversation came about when one of the black ladies mentioned there being an Aryan Nations float in one of the Mardi Gras parades today. All of them were going on about how it shouldn't be allowed, and Retardo, being the only white woman in the group, felt she needed to really set herself apart from the bigotry.

"What, are you going to ask him to change the Constitution?"

What? Racism in the South? Crazy! They don't mention that in the brochure. Sorry guys. Ugly as it is, there's nothing you can really do about it. Except throw your full cans of beer at their float. Full cans of anything hurt when you throw them.
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Urgent! [18 Feb 2007|01:02pm]
[ mood | irritated ]

Enough already!!!!!!!!!!!

In other news, guess how many gas stations I had to go to this morning to find a fucking GAS CAN.

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Not to advocate violence [17 Feb 2007|02:18pm]
[ mood | pretty serious ]

But if you've ever beaten up a homeless person, you should be shot right in your face.

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Night off, day off [15 Feb 2007|04:45pm]
[ mood | exhausted ]

Last night I went to Christ's house for a glass of wine and a couple hundred games of table football, which I cannot beat him at. I'm getting good. Not good enough though. In fact, Josus Christ is so confident that he's agreed to put his table on the line. If I beat him one time, ever, the table comes home with me. So far his table is safe, although on the last game, he only beat me by one goal.

We also went to Denny's where we saw Roger, the most eccentric server you'll ever meet who also drives a 1982 Mazda RX-7 which he paid $500 for and it looks nearly immaculate. I took a picture of Roger where he was pointing at my camera and when I saved it, it was a perfect picture. Roger pointing. Then I take my phone out later and look at it again and he's managed to block his face from the shot with his hand. I have no idea how he did it, but he's Roger. There's really no way to explain what Roger does.

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According to Top Gear [15 Feb 2007|05:27am]
[ mood | tired ]

Subaru Impreza - 38/152
Honda Jazz - 2/152

Not bad.

As of late [14 Feb 2007|03:43am]
[ mood | drained ]

First off I feel like I need to show my Gmail inbox. Look at the first three emails. Gmail is great about keeping spam out of my inbox but once in a while I get a couple of gems, such as these.

Fonzie Carmen writes: Hola! gulden -- this time on the red. The red turned up. Next time I, for an answer, she depa...

It's so tempting to open one of them. There are attached files which is all the more reason not to. I probably wound up on some kind of terrorist mailing list or something. They're probably going to send me a Lite Brite through the mail.

The more I work at a restaurant the more I want to open a restaurant. Food service is really awful if it's done wrong, so I can understand why everyone I've mentioned that to thinks it's a terrible idea, but if it's done right, it's amazing. The restaurant I work at is pretty good. All the other cooks actually seem to care about the quality of the food. I've worked at other restaurants where the food was inedible but it didn't matter. I do hate working on the weekends though. The more people packed into the restaurant, the more the focus shifts from the quality of the food to the quantity. The busier we are, the less time we can take to make sure everything's how we want it. Half the fun is the presentation. I hate having to stress out over whether or not there's enough. Today should be better. Better meaning slower.

I guess that's why the best restaurants have such low capacities. I forget which one I was reading about the other night but the executive chef was talking about how he just lowered the cover to 28 heads because they want to make sure everyone there gets enough attention. That's admirable.

Ben called me today from some Chinese takeout place in D'Iberville. I hate D'Iberville but after he told me about this place, I decided that it's probably going to become my new spot. He went there with his family and was looking over the menu, and the chef came out. They ordered and then as they were about to pay, they realized the restaurant only accepts cash. So they told the chef they would have to come back with cash. The chef told them something to the effect of, "It's Sunday -- you and your family get your food, you enjoy it very much, and when you decide to come back you can pay." That's the kind of attitude I never see. It's obvious that this guy is doing this because it's what he loves, not because it's a paycheck. That's the kind of place I want to eat.

Ben also called me to tell me that his cousin just came back from Italy and now owns a Moto Guzzi and a Fiat 500.

I want one myself.

I started that entry Sunday and forgot about it. Mostly because Sunday was the worst night I've had since I started at this restaurant. It was so busy and it completely furthered my stance above. And it crawled by so slowly, whereas tonight the restaurant was mostly empty but the time flew by. And all of my food looked amazing the entire time. And so what, if there aren't 1,500 people lined up to eat it, it still gets eaten. And when it's slow, I have more chances to take it into the back and eat it myself. That's probably the best part about my job. Eating my own foods.

Tonight I took care of the carving station. Some really sloppy, really fat old woman came up and looked at my smoked ham. I asked her if she wanted a slice and she acted disgusted. She said, "That ain't got any fat on it. I want me some fat." You're in Mississippi. You're in Mississippi. You're in Mississippi.

The other day I went out for lunch with my grandfather and my uncle. Ben came. He made a reference to Waffle House being run by the mafia, hence them only accepting cash until recently. My grandfather looked at him and said something like, "You joke as if you think that isn't still going on." All my life I've had people joke about my grandfather being in the mafia and it's always made me laugh but for that moment, I sort of had to wonder.

I guess I have a veritable ton of photos I need to post, so I'm going to do so right now. At 3 in the morning. Ciao.

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News worth reading [08 Feb 2007|07:02pm]
I don't know why everyone is talking about Anna Nicole Smith. This is much cooler.

66-Year-Old Grandfather Saves Grandson By Beating The Fuck Out Of Huge Stupid Anaconda.
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