The Miasplatican Empire, the eastern part.

*Sunday, June 12*

// Byline = bar bitch @ 2:25 AM

(2) comments

What the Bloomin' "H" Is Going On?

Something is terribly wrong over here at le splat...it's been awhile since I have wandered through ye ol' doors due to switching phone companies/broad band carriers and such, and now that I have returned all hell has broken loose.
First off, my co-admin on this thing is M.I.A....Kronik where art thou? I am noticing that you have taken yourself off this thing and am wondering como?
Secondly, all the pics are gone which is totally screwed...until I figure these things out, I suppose I will paste up other photos and hope for the return of the generic crowd shot from before.
?

any-hoo...

Things are rather uneventful in the state of downtown miasplat...I will say I curse the new dishwasher and all his potential offspring for passing unto me the dreaded "stomach flu" - inappropriately named I may add, for it's not the "flu" nor does it necessarily effect your stomach. For those of you who need to know: I shat for days...DAYS! And not prodigious loafs that you step back to admire and wonder if it was the broccoli you ate or the pasta that formed such exquisite texture and size but water! Brown water! Painful, burning and consistent brown stinky water!

Onto something completely different:

It's supa muggy here and it makes working yon hither patio section an ordeal worthy of Dante and his sojourn into the lower levels of Hades. You try looking calm and effective while sweating profusely in your neon blue crinolin skirt and miss piggy tee - impossible, I say! Also, some unattractive patchouli-stink hippie had the nerve to call me the "weird girl" to another server because I wouldn't write down her cheap ass order of fries but instead passed the Intel to her actual waiter. You know, if I'm the weird one to hippie chick wearing too much quilted and lace attire than you know that that particular hippie doesn't get to the big city much.

And on that note:
I'm sure Women's Studies classes around the globe would be interested to know or note that the common public refers to any member of a wait staff as "the waitress." I am the only female who waits tables at my particular fag bar. And do we often refer to the fags as "she" and "her,"...well, yes. Somehow that's different, though.
People often come to the bartender and say, "Can we get a waitress out at blahblahblah?" How about using the gender-non-specific term, "Server" or "Peon?"
It would make us all feel a little better if you did.

With this post set to the tune of some show that catches cheating spouses and lovers playing in the background, I am off to rectify this picture problem on the left sidebar,

---
a Later Splat Post!
####

// Byline = bar bitch @ 1:44 AM

(4) comments

*Tuesday, March 29*

i've been thinking about slang lately, as a friend of mine who is non-american born feels their english is not "good" though in fact he speaks and picks up nontraditional street talk quite proficiently. maybe its because he learned english from television? i dunno.

in comparison to other countries, i think english slang is the most non-sensible and uncreative of the lot. it's like jabberwocky or other such crap that sounds really targeted and hip but in actuality is nothing more than made up - no roots, no style.
bling/ice/frost for diamonds....
fresh/hot/dope for hip...

the next tier of american slang is the genre specific where -for example- computer geeks and punk rockers have their own lexicon of streettalk...its like everyone must go out of their way to abuse and dismantle the language for the end purpose of being misunderstood/misheard.
a hardcore punk is fondly called a skid (although this is the term i use for dirty underwear, go figure)
a geek who writes an unbreakable code will be unfondly referred to as a L16, or, compared to the louis the 16th and therefore haughty and pompous...

where am i going with you ask yourself?
nowhere.
i just get easily riled up about nothing and like to rant, thats all.

i was watching a commercial with a friend the other day who commented that when street slang appears in an SUV ad, then you know its on its way 'out' - he also commented that when a white person begins to incorporate any street slang into their vocab, then it was the final nail in the coffin for that particular slang term.
i cant say i disagree.

british slang is -i believe- a whole new level. words like scrog and shank and bloody and whanker and wacked are somehow jabberwocky-esque but still sensible. maybe because their slang remains fixed whereas american slang ebbs and flows and morphs every three months making it more of a new trend than a subversive lexicon?

i prefer to use no slang, mostly because i can't keep up with the trend and secondly because i'm an english grad who is more often offended by its usage. i do say 'cool,' but i cant help it. i tried to bring back the use of 'fresh' a few years ago but no one would pick it up.

---
a Later Splat Post!
####

// Byline = bar bitch @ 11:35 AM

(0) comments

*Wednesday, January 19*

the sun is a mass of incandesent gas

well, here we are again. same bat-time, same bat-channel....whatever that means. it's cold outside and the anchormen and women have already begun wishing for high temps and no snow which they will immediately bemoan the loss of when the summer actually gets here.
stupid t.v. personalities. they're never content.
on a truly disgusting side note:
i was sitting around with fanboy a few days ago and discovered that all elementary school kids do indeed come up with a "list" of the various types of poo that one can produce as well as compile and compose lyrics for the diarhrea(i have no idea how this is spelled) song. turns out my class was more inventive for we labeled the poo that disappears down the tube before you get to see it the "houdini."
and of course, because the internet is what it is, i found the following...
Ghost Shit
You know you've shit. There's shit on the toilet paper, but no shit in the bowl.
Teflon Coated Shit
Comes out so slick, clean and easy that you don't feel it. No traces of shit on the toilet paper, you have to look in the bowl to be sure you did it!
Gooey Shit
This has the consistency of hot tar. You wipe your ass 12 times and it still doesn't come clean. You end up putting toilet paper in your underwear so you don't stain it. This shit leaves permanent skid marks in the toilet.
Second Thought Shit
You're all done wiping your ass and you're about to stand up when you realize it.....you've got some more.
Pop a Vein in Your Forehead Shit
This kind is the kind of shit that killed Elvis. It doesn't come until you're all sweaty, trembling and purple from straining so hard.
Bali Belly Shit
You shit so much you lose 5 kilos. Right Now Shit You better be within 10 seconds of a toilet. Usually it has its head out before you get your pants down.
King Kong or Commode Choker Shit
This shit is so big that you know it won't go down the toilet unless you break it into smaller chunks. A coat hanger works well. This kind of shit usually happens at someone else's house. Wet Cheeks Shit
This shit hits the water sideways and makes a BIG splash that gets your ass wet.
Wish Shit
You sit there all cramped up and fart a few times, but no shit!
Cement Block or Oh God Shit
You wish you'd gotten a spinal block before you shit.
Snake Shit
This shit is fairly soft and about as big around as your thumb and at least three feet long.
Cork Shit (Also Known as Floater Shit)
Even after the third flush, it's still floating in there. My god! How do I get rid of it? This shit usually happens at someone else's house.
Mexican Food Shit (also called Screamers)
You'll know it's alright to eat again when your asshole stops burning.
Beer Drunk Shit
This happens the day after the night before. Normally your shit doesn't smell too bad, but this shit is BAD. Usually there's somebody standing outside to use the bathroom. This kind of shit also usually happens at someone else's house.
The Frightened Turtle
The kind of shit that just pokes its head out then quickly goes back in
The Bungee Shit
The kind of shit that just hangs off your ass before it falls into the water.
The Ring of Fire Shit
The kind of shit where you eat really spicy food and your asshole feels like the inside of a cigarette lighter.
The Crippler The kind of shit where you have to sit on the toilet so long your legs go numb from the waist down.
The Big Bobber
The kind of shit that no matter how many times you flush it always floats back to the surface. The Shitty Shitty Bang Bang
The kind of shit that hits you when you're trapped in your car in a traffic jam.
The Incredible Hulk Shit
The king of shit that sits in the toilet overnight and mysteriously expands to twice it's normal size.
The Jack the Ripper Shit
The kind of shit that yanks out the hair of your ass as it pushes its way out.
The Party Pooper
The giant shit you take at a party. And when you flush the toilet, you watch in horror as the water starts to rise.
The Toxic Gas Shit
The kind of shit that makes you pass out and fall of the toilet before you finish, and then you wake up in some strange South American town.
Dirty Bowl Shit
The kind of shit that comes out in a million pieces a second, reminiscent of an avalanche - but with rocket propulsion, and splatters all over the toilet bowl.
The Windy City Shit
When you sit down, and fart for so long and hard that you no longer need to take a shit.
Oh Shit! Shit
You shit so much and wipe your ass so furiously you run out of toilet paper and you say OH SHIT!
The Never Ending Shit
It's the shit that keeps running out of your ass like pea, and just when you start wiping your ass your stomach gargles and splash, more shit runs out. This always happens after eating at Kentucky Fried Chicken.
Ouch That Hurt Shit
The type of shit that leaves you feeling like you just hoped onto a bicycle without a seat. Sensation usually lasts hours.
...from http://stupidcollegekid.tripod.com/thestupidcollegekid/id17.html...

---
a Later Splat Post!
####

// Byline = bar bitch @ 11:33 AM

(0) comments

*Friday, January 7*

Chapel Taxi

So far so good on the Taxi service I am providing. I seem to have a regular customer taking spaz to work. Good thing he works every day. I have also agreed to be people's "Taxi Valet" and making cigarette and beer runs for select people. I am even keeping a 12-pack in my trunk for those times when you "just can get enough"^{dePeche Mode}

A lot of my old McCillicutties clientele have trasfered to me as their taxi Driver. Darwin, even has me on his recording when he is off duty. I am getting so many cellular phone calls, that I am going to have to up my plan. I get so many, it pretty much pays my expenses. I asked the dispacther, and that is very unusual for someone just doing it a week.

toot toot my horn.

Oh I found a new energy drink- Chronic Cola, its an energy drink-isized cola beverage, int a teeny tiny can for the $1.99 price. Liked it a nada.,
---
a Later Splat Post!
####

// Byline = Rev Kev (Ke7in) @ 10:09 AM

(0) comments

*Sunday, December 19*

aunt bee's kerosene cucumbers

Aunt Bee is frantic to "save" the very bronch, she ralleyed against for so long. Now she is calling me friday afternoons with the menu, and if I do not call her back - right away, she called her mom Minny Driver to do, her pinking shears version.

Friday night, still not having heard her message, I was in LeSplat, and nomessage was made of the menu. You see, Briscoe called me saturday afternoon. When I did not hearback from her by saturday, I called and found out the above. When I aksed why she expected me to be there on her schedule, she said the "New Grown up Aunt Bee, does not want to wait until the last minute"

Now, Briscoe is what is known as a planner. He would set aside Kiwi fruits for his Kiwi-passion waffles as early as Tuesday, but would still wait until saturday to give me the menu. I'd print it sundays. Lots of room for last minute changes (often due to Aunt Bee eating the kiwis, or letting english muffins or eggs run out). But now, Grown up Bee, plans ahead. You can count now that the bar will never run out of things that can be forthought. Juices, Lemons, Limes, Towels, bar naps, imported beers, house liquor and the such.

Or Brunch will have its Kiwis, pinking shears menus, English Muffins, but the rest of the store will be borrowing cokes from McGillicuduties.
---
a Later Splat Post!
####

// Byline = Rev Kev (Ke7in) @ 1:23 PM

(0) comments

*Monday, December 13*

The Customer is always right!

It is often a manager's job to placate a customer that feels wronged. It is from this act, I believe the old saying "The Customer is Always Right" comes from. Over the years it has become bastardized to be a a rallying cry for bad behavior everywhere. Rarely is a customer that actually says this, actually in the right. It is their way of saying "I want it my way". The customer is always right is usually in force when the customer does get his way, when he does not even realize the extablishment is bending over backwards. When a customer spouts this an an epithet, it is more trantumonic, than helpful., They feel it is the ultimate trump card. Like playing the "Sorry card" in the game of the same name.

In the case of the PJ, aunt bee came back to the bar, rolling her eyes with the expression, "That Kronick, such a hot head. But good old Byron brought it to her attention that the incident came about from me stopping the horrific screaming of Elephant Love Medley, PJ speaking in his off-key baritone that he wished I had died. This is different than actually wishing someone dead. "F*ck off and die" is an expression. But actually stating a near death experience and proclaiming a prefered alternate outcome, is far different than just an expression. I think it is Ironic that Aunt Bee, told me she thought I provoked his anger, so it was somehow "different". I can only think back to the time she heard second hand that Bunny C*nt had said something about her habits and barred the woman for life. Far different than me hearing the statement, her response to BC was "Tell me that shit to my face and I would kick your fucking ass!, get out of here for good". I guess its different when the shoe is on a foot that it fits.

She does have the understandable attitude it is better to have your enemies happy and in your place than unhappy dogging you. This is a twist of "keep your friends close, and your enemies closer". PJ has been barred from mondays before. He has - thrown drinks in people's faces, spit in people's faces and has actually had people get treated poorly because they were with him. PJ is fairly tall had bad bad blonde highlights at the moment. I will point him out tonight.
---
a Later Splat Post!
####

// Byline = Rev Kev (Ke7in) @ 6:46 PM

(0) comments

*Sunday, December 12*

I felt both.......

SHOCKED AND OUTRAGED

as i read and reread your last posting, i find myself appalled and horrified by your scary-oke experience on so many levels that i dont know where to begin.
to have anybody say that - be it out loud, to a friend or amongst strangers- is not only poor taste and manners but so terrible as to warrant nay-deserve- a powerfully painful punch to the abdomen or groin area. perchance, both. i can't believe you didnt pop him one, for i am sure that had i be there and heard such commentary that i would not have been able to refrain from said punchy pop to aformentioned abdomen area on this PJ person.
i am curious as to what happened on the girls end when this Pj 'told on you.' what does that mean? even more curious, did they defend you and tell PJ that he was a terrible person for even thinking such a heinous thought but super-hell worthy for saying out loud or did they placate PJ with a free drink and roll their eyes at you as if to say, 'you know kronick..."
to hell with this outdated and fascist notion that the customer is always right. my experience in the servitude industry has revealed that no - quite the contrary - the customer is most often an uneducated buffoon with insecurity issues who likes to pretend ala high roller elitist type to be better than everyone else when out in public.

AN OPEN LETTER TO CUSTOMERS EVERYWHERE, A WARNING:

Dear everyone who has or shall act like an ass to an employee of any establishment:
Without any preamble or unnecessary set up to drive my point, I shall merely begin with this: you, the customer, are in a very precarious and potentially unhealthy or unpleasent situation waiting to happen. You see, waiters and bartenders have access to the food and beverages that you will place into you mouth and allow passage to your gullet. Retail employees have access to your personal financial information when you hand them your credit card. Parking lot attendents may watch over your car just as easily as turning a blind eye. Bank tellers handle your paycheck and bills and nest eggs. I could go, but i think i've made my point here.
There is no solidarity among the working class, so just because -for example-you are a server who goes out to be waited on by another server this does not mean all is forgiven when you act like a pretentious and overbearing shit. more than likely, this means you will either be given visine in your cocktail or -and this is my favorite- a used or dirty straw. the best revenge afterall, is a subtle and secret revenge.
dear customers worldwide, we bring you your food. your drinks. you voluntarily give us access to your digestive and immune systems on a weekly basis and if you think we are unaware of this power, then think again. Do not believe that a sturdy and pious moral fiber prevents a serving class individual from exacting a type of payback upon you for grievous errors in manners and social etiquette. this is not 1758; there is no such thing as a loyal servent.
one serving job is much like another and therefore we are all at any given time willing to risk losing the current job in lieu of physically harming a customer who has crossed the line and for example: has sexually assaulted us or threatened our lives or just generally pissed us off. as an aside to kronick: tell me who this guy PJ is and i'll make sure he drinks smoker's loogies for a long while.
in summation...be nice to your server or checkout person or launderer. say please and thank you to your gas pump attendent or your hair stylist or your karaoke cooridinator. you'll never know when we've licked our finger and stuck it in your ribeye or around the rim of your martini UNLESS you can be certain that you haven't pissed us off.
thank you.

AND BACK TO OTHER MATTERS

our new staff is so terribly annoying that i feel like poking my eyes out and forcefeeding them to my ass only to pull them out of my nose like some penn and teller gag that has gone too far.
The new girl talks to much about her super normal and uneventful life; the new guy plays at being houdini meets ass kisser meets drug addict trips to the alley. everyone bitches about the others; no one knows how to do anything and is not unlike micro-management hell mouth ala sunnydale.
i was so bored and alone saturday night. everyone rearranged their scheduals so that it ended up i was with spaz and the two newbies all night....argh! i cut everyone by midnight so as to regain sense of peace and quiet. did not mind doing extra work if it meant that i didnt have to (one more time) show someone where something was. so annying.

and thus ends my tirade.

---
a Later Splat Post!
####

// Byline = bar bitch @ 1:58 PM

(0) comments

What the Bloomin' "H" Is Going On?

the sun is a mass of incandesent gas

Chapel Taxi

aunt bee's kerosene cucumbers

The Customer is always right!

I felt both.......

MiaSplat