Some BS Smells Fishy, but that’s to be Expected

When we last met, I remember showing the world my backside as I ran away frantically from a job that scared the bajeezies out of me (granted, this could have been a dream I had last night with me quitting theatrically by mooning the president of the company while eating a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich and chugging a beer; but for the sake of argument we’ll just pretend this dream really happened). It wasn’t necessarily the job itself, though I wasn’t particularly a huge fan of working, but rather it was the people. People with issues bigger than my weekend ego after I’ve downed a few thousand Jello shooters and gotten the green light from the baddest bitch in the club to make a move that would seriously add credibility to my manhood; people that pay for extravagant lunches using money they should have reserved for public transportation; people who tell you they care as long as your workload puts them in better lighting; people who sleep with people that sign off on paychecks; people that eat lunches behind trash dumpsters in the back parking lot of the office building, only no actual food is consumed, but rather protein from another fellow human, or a human who’s no less labeled a canine; people who don’t know your name unless you’re wearing a name tag and a hairnet. You get my point.

This post is about people and the shit they bring to the office. People in the workplace that want you to believe you’re family – at least until 5PM anyway. And with that said, it’s those very people that tend to make the day’s potential for productivity and get-alongedness a completely unfunny joke.

Not annoyed

I don’t laugh when someone comes into my office and asks if I’m busy. What the hell did you think I was doing before you blatantly interrupted me? Do you know how long it took me to get this score on this Bejeweled game?

I don’t laugh when someone asks me if I want to have a meeting to discuss anything other than the lunch menu for the next day. Who the hell wants to meet about anything, ever? Do you want to punch yourself in the face for me? Fuq you and your meeting.

I don’t laugh when someone gives me a 30 minute deadline. That’s not totally true. I laugh because whoever has given me the deadline is under the impression that I’m going to finish doing anything in 30 minutes or less. If we aren’t talking about food, forget about it. Thirty minutes to me means “before you leave work for the day” …or “before you quit.” Whichever comes first.

I don’t laugh when my supervisor transfers her phone to mine. Seriously? As if I already don’t have enough people to blatantly send to voicemail.

I don’t laugh when I’m referred to as MR. UM rather than MR. THENAMEMYMOTHERGAVEME. No one generally remembers my name unless they need something. Now that I think about, I guess coworkers are more like family than I thought. I have a few cousins that wholeheartedly believe my first name is CAN I BORROW.

I don’t laugh when I see my laughable paycheck. Really, I don’t laugh. I cry.

I don’t laugh when there’s a disgruntled employee plotting to flatten the Human Resource Director’s tires. Well, maybe I laugh a little bit. That monster deserves to get his tires flattened.

The point is no matter who ignores you at work while wearing a plastic smile and a pinstriped suit, all of those laughable moments that I find so terribly unfunny fall under the category of SHIT HAPPENS. Between the hours of 8AM and 5PM (or whatever your working hours are) shit happens. Any and all working class citizens ought to be prepared for the unexpected bullshit that inevitably happens every day. And you know what? We can blame those “people” for that.

ALL members of the workforce should expect water cooler rumors; expect to have unseasoned green beans with their flavorless cafeteria-cooked macaroni and cheese; expect documents to be lost or unsigned or peed on.  Okay, maybe no one would expect to receive a document with pee stains on it, but like I said earlier – SHIT HAPPENS. Expect to have a petty office beef (especially with that one chick that thinks she’s fly as hell with her 2 ¾” stilettos that matches nothing she wears and encouragingly builds up the bunions on her feet); expect to have to work through lunch (which is the sole reason for always having a pair of boxing gloves in your briefcase). No lunch/Late lunch/Working lunch = FIGHT!

The moral of the story is SHIT HAPPENS, especially at work. And that shit is caused by those people who can so easily fuq up a good day. But instead of getting mad at the shit that happens in the office and pointing a finger at those responsible for it, the real question is why get upset when you expected all this shit to go down even before you left your house this morning? It’s not rocket science to assume someone in the office is going to unexpectedly piss you off. Truth be told, if no shit happens during any point of the day, well…I don’t think I’d expect that.


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Don’t Mess With a One-Legged Ostrich on the Subway

This morning I got into a fight with a one-legged ostrich on the subway. I was actually winning, too, until I lost focus from laughing at the fact that there was an ostrich on the subway with only one leg, no less.

Let me warn you to never underestimate the martial arts capabilities of a single-legged ostrich. They have incredible balance. 

Mad OstrichApparently my falling into his lap when the train almost jumped tracks to avoid hitting an alligator that escaped the confines of the sewer and made its way into the subway tunnels didn’t sit well with the physically challenged bird. I tried to apologize but as I looked into its eyes, all I could see was a giant chicken leg. It could be that my drooling from the thought of devouring a life-sized drum stick tipped the scale of his anger. With no warning at all, he went all Woody Wood Pecker on my forehead and Bruce Lee’d my ass all the way up and down the train car.

After the bleeding [finally] stopped and the other metro riders finished laughing at me, a small part of me (the only part of my body that didn’t get pecked and kicked) found a new respect for ostriches – as in don’t f*ck with one, especially on the subway, which in fact is the moral of the story.

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Quote of the Week:   “Speak when you are angry – and you’ll make the best speech you’ll ever regret.”

This Week, on “Ask Hottywood!”

CLICK HERE to leave a question for Hottywood.

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Dear Hottywood

Me and my coworker do not get along and for the life of me I can’t figure out why. When I interviewed, he ran up to say that I would like it there if I was hired. Now I get the cold shoulder and I’ve been nothing but nice.

Hottywood, please help me! 

Clueless

Dear Clueless,

ejection seatUnfortunately work is full of folks who wear plastic smiles. I call them members of the Mr. Potato Head entourage. Calling them names don’t do much [for me], but it does give me something to laugh at when I see them in the hallway.

Continue reading

This Week on, “Ask Hottywood!”

CLICK HERE to leave a question for Hottywood.

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Dear Hottywood,

My girlfriend and I got into a huge argument last night over my attitude. Well apparently to her I had an attitude. To me, I was stressed out, horny and haven’t smoked any Mary Jane in about a week. Now she thinks there’s more to my last night’s mood than I told her. I want to get back in her good graces but I’m fearful that another argument will ensue because of her doubt in my truth. Help!

I Didn’t Mean To

Dear I Didn’t Mean To,

I most certainly can understand your reasons for bitching out on your girl. But I’m a man. Understanding my fellow brutha’s disgust over no ass or weed is in my DNA. It’s in every man’s DNA. Whatever you did, my brutha, I know you didn’t do it.  Continue reading

Hottywood’s HORRORscopes: Week of April 19-25, 2015

fate

“Chase dreams. Not people.”


Capricorn

December 22 – January 19

Find a penny and pick it up and all day long you’ll have good luck, unless you find that penny in jail. No good luck comes from bending over to pick up anything in jail.

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Aquarius

January 20 – February 18

If you were to die tomorrow…well, never mind. If you die tomorrow you really don’t need a HORRORscope now do you?

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Pisces

February 19 – March 20

The only unthinkable thing is that nothing is unthinkable.

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Aries

March 21 – April 19

You are likely to encounter someone who reminds you very much of a jeep.

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Taurus

April 20 – May 20

Be careful that you don’t let someone get too close when asking in-depth questions. Your morning breath may not have worn off yet.

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Gemini

May 21 – June 20

The view you enjoy from afar is actually of someone you don’t like that is walking away from you. Your day just got better.

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Cancer

June 21 – July 22

You are in someone else’s sight, but that someone is as blind as a bat so it’s all good.

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Leo

July 23 – August 22

Some things are, and should be, temporary; sorta like that last one night stand you just had.

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Virgo

August 23 – September 22

You will be able to offer some insight on something that has nothing to do with you. However you will not be able to offer any insight on minding your own damn business.

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Libra

September 23 – October 22

Being green with envy does not match your shoes.

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Scorpio

October 23 – November 21

People are bored with that tired shirt you wear every week with the armpit stain on the upper right shoulder.

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Sagittarius

November 22 – December 21

The head in your pants is likely to make a decision the head on your shoulders wouldn’t ordinarily make. However the head on your shoulders will be thanking the head in your pants all the way to the clinic.


Quote of the week:   Just because Fate doesn’t deal you the right cards, it doesn’t mean you should give up. It just means you have to play the cards you get to their maximum potential.

Interview with the Blanche Devereaux of the Projects

Many say that you only fall in love once, but there are some people who believe that theory to be total B.S.  For those of you who don’t believe you can find true love more than once in a lifetime, you obviously haven’t met LaShawnquonifa Latoya Fu – “FuFu” for short; the Blanche Devereaux of the projects.  HottywoodHelps.com sat down with FuFu to get her take on the subject of love.

“It couldn’t be a colder day on the planet where I stand in front of an ice cream truck, shivering in me’ knickers, in the middle of a neighborhood where the only thing that looks safe is the corner stop sign.  Finally after checking my watch for the fourth time, up walks the fabulous FuFu, clad in her oversized bamboo earrings, gold teeth and kinky tracks.”

 

 

Hottywood:  What’s up, beautiful?  Come here and show me some love!  You’re looking delicious as always.

**

FuFu:  Thanks, boo-boo.  You know how I roll.  You wanna taste?

 


“…Now if the ice cream truck in the dead of winter in the middle of a neighborhood where everyone wears designer bullet proof vests wasn’t a big enough  DO NOT ENTER sign, FuFu’s stank wedgie walk and peek-a-boo sandals should’ve been the only red flag I needed.  I could barely take in all of her tackiness because my eyes were locked on her cold ass toes.  On the bright side, any ice cream truck that sells steak & cheese sandwiches and chicken wings, whether it’s the winter time or the summer, has got to be worth the risk.”


Hottywood:  Uh, no.  I’m not real particular on leftovers, but thanks for the offer.  But that’s what we’re here to talk about, right?  I hate to get right to business but it’s colder than a muhfukkah out here!  HA!  Eh look, thanks for taking the time to talk with me.

**

FuFu:  Oh you know I’ll do anything for you.  You can get it!

**

Hottywood:  You play too much.  We can talk about that later, off the record.  For now let’s talk relationships. As I’ve been talking to people off the block, I’ve learned that a lot of folk believe a person can only fall in love once in a lifetime; twice if you’re lucky.  But you seem to be the exception to the rule.  You’ve managed to find love many many many many many times with just about every dude in the neighborhood.  There are names for people like you.  “…Social Butterfly.”


“I bet you thought I was going to say something else, didn’t you?”


Hottywood: What’s your secret?

**

FuFu:  First of all, I ain’t no weak ass butterfly.  I’m a cross between a sting ray and a peacock.  Mmm hmm.  Yup.  And B) the secret is, “keep no secrets.”  People who keep secrets have something to hide.  That make people don’t trust you and stuff.  I just keep it real with people and roll with people who keep it real with me.  Especially dudes that keep it real.  Mmph!  That sh*t is sexy as a mug!   But see, some of these hoes out here be thinking they can bottle their sh*t up and sell it.  I ain’t like that.   I ain’t selling my sh*t fo’ nobody!  That’s just nasty.

**

Hottywood:  Um…  Cause if you sold it that would make you a whore?

**

FuFu:  Yeah, boo!  There you go!  You know what I’m talkin’ about.  And I ain’t nobody’s whore.  I respect myself too much for that, shuuuu.


“I have to be honest with you.  FuFu’s high pitched voice is slowly tearing the inside of my ears.  I really don’t know what the hell she just said and her chewing gum is damn near trying to jump out of her mouth.”


FuFu:  When I kick it with a dude I’m down for whatever.  Ride or die chick, like Eve.  But Ion’t get down until I know it’s the real thing.  Love.  True love.  Dudes don’t be trying to show their feelings cause they want to look all hard in front of all their boys and stuff, but when we be kicking it at his house or my house, or around back in the laundry room stairwell, they always tell me they love me.

**

Hottywood:  …Okaaaay…so explain to me how you’ve been so “lucky” to fall in love so many times and particularly with every guy on the block.  You don’t think that’s a little ironic?

**

FuFu:  Ion’t know.  I guess it’s just meant for me to have a boyfriend or something.  It’s just meant to be.  Right under my nose ring.

**

Hottywood:  Do you have a boyfriend now?

**

FuFu:  No, not right now.  But it’s funny ’cause as soon as a guy just stops calling me, one of his friends comes up and tells me he’s been eyeing me er’y since I hooked up with whoever just broke up with me.  Next thing you know, they be bringing me french fries with extra salt, pepper and ketchup and buying me all these drinks at the club and stuff.  Ion’t know, something about a man who wines and dines me just gets my coochie wet, you know?

**

Hottywood:  And just like that you move on from your last relationship on to a new one…?

**

FuFu:  Mmm hmm.

**

Hottywood:  And these relationships are serious[?].  And physical I assume.  They tell you they love you; do you love them?

**

FuFu:  Of course I love them.  Ion’t just sleep around unless I know I love somebody.  I’m a classy b*tch.  Plus I like french fries.

**

Hottywood:  Wait.  I’m a little confused.  So they tell you they love you and then ya’ll go do your business?

**

FuFu:  Yeah.  Whatchu think this is? Ion’t know why, dudes just be falling in love with me real quick.  It must be my pretty smile or sum’in.

**

Hottywood:  But these guys all know each other which obviously means they know about you.  You don’t think it’s a little strange that your ex-boyfriends’ friends suddenly become interested after you’ve broken up?

**

FuFu:  What’s strange about that?

**

Hottywood:  You’re right.  What could I possibly be thinking?  Do any of your exes call you?

**

FuFu:  Whatchu mean, for like booty calls and stuff or just to talk?

**

Hottywood:  Yeah.  What you said.

**

FuFu:  They do, and we’re cool and stuff.   Well, except for me and my babys’ fathers.  But er’ybody else is cool.  I just don’t let none of ‘em come over if I’m dating someone else.  That would be disrespectful, you know what I mean?  Oh and Ion’t want my kids to see all that, you know?  I gotta set an example and sh*t.

**

Hottywood:  So if you’re not dating then they can come over for a conjugal?

**

FuFu:  A what?

**

Hottywood:  A conjugal…  …a booty call.

**

FuFu:  Oh.  Yeah, why not?  Ion’t have no problem with that if I ain’t committed.  And sometimes they be telling me they miss me and want to come by to give me money to get my hair done or buy a new fake Louis Vuitton bag or some shoes or sum’in.  So you know it’s all good.

**

Hottywood:  Oh well that’s different.  That’s not to be confused with putting yourself out there for money though, right?

*


“Does anyone else see RED FLAGS all over this???”


FuFu:  Unh Unh.  I ain’t standing on no street corner or nuffin.  They just be giving me money.  The funny part is after it’s all over, if I get in the shower or fall asleep or something, when I wake up or come back in the room, money just be sitting on the bed or the dresser.  Ion’t even have to ask for it.  Ain’t that sweet?


“Smells rotten if you ask me.”


I just seem to attract a lot of men and Ion’t even have to leave my street to meet ‘em.  I think a lot girls be jealous of me and stuff but I can’t help that I’m popular and easy on the eyes.

**

Hottywood:  Easy?

**

FuFu:  Mmm Hmm; …easy on the eyes.

**

Hottywood:  Oh, oh, oh.  Yeah right.  That’s what I thought you said.  …So you like the way things are right now?  Everything’s going great?  …you’re happy?

**

FuFu:  Hell yeah boo-boo.  I mean, I wish I had a boyfriend or something right now, but I’m patient.  Why?  You trying to come over?

**


“Either a gunshot went off in the alley next to the ice cream truck or FuFu is throwing me a low blow. There is no other word to describe this moment better than, ‘…um.'”

I hate to interrupt the flow of the story, kiddies, but sadly the interview continued to take a quick trip down a short drain. And by that I mean I couldn’t stomach the ignorance of this broad.  FuFu is a cool chick and all and definitely someone worth having around when the carry out cashier tries to overcharge you for your food, but there’s only so much naivete’ one can take.

She went on and on about her ideal husband, describing him as someone who would have a lot of money, drive a big truck, and always offer her some of his beer. “…You know, what every woman looks for in a man.”  Her words.  Not mine.

After a few more shameless passes, gum popping and head pats, FuFu received a phone call from her ex, Datrell (but everyone around the way calls him Briefcase because he handles his business.)

He offered to take her to a movie and Burger King, so she had to get the coarse baby hair on the back of her neck straightened out and find a babysitter.  She asked me if I could watch her kids, but unfortunately it was the anniversary of the first day I ever noticed someone’s toenails could actually scrape the ground.  I had big plans.  I know, I know. Darn the luck.

Whatever the case for the end of the Q & A, I was thankful.  Never in my life have I had the UNpleasure of talking to someone so blinded, without morals and completely oblivious to her own self-values.

Ladies, and this goes to you, too, fellas; don’t get stuck in a box.  The world and the lives that it ensues are way too big for that.  It’s not worth anything at all if you keep being good at something you’re bad at.  Don’t be a LaShawnquonifa.


Quote of the Week:    “It’s not worth anything at all if you keep being good at something you’re bad at.”