You Know You're in Rio Linda When...

You Know You're in Rio Linda When...

Someone ties a chain around a public telephone, attaches it to their truck and yanks it out of the wall and ground for the change.

Someone tries to ram an ATM in an effort to steal the vestabule for the money.

All of this on the same Friday night.

To Whom It May Concern

Dear Dragon Lady HR Class Instructor:

You are the bane of my existence. I have now been in school almost two years. TWO YEARS of arbitrarily sitting through mundane classes that barely stimulate a brain cell, of which the feeling seems to be mutual of The Establishment's past instructors, who are there to give their personal anecdotes and get you to pass their class at ALL COST.

In these two years I have not sacrificed my quality in school work - in fact, because I actually CARE I try my hardest with EVERY class. So why, Dragon Lady, in your mullet hair, tennis shoes, slacks and too many sweaters, do you HATE me? My skills in assignments are stellar - and have been commented by others of higher grade courses as a pleasure to read - must you pick at every little grammatical issue like a 3rd grade reading teacher? The COMMA is overrated. I don't use them in assignments. Short sentences, while complete, are not inferior because I chose to be succinct - an objective of your curriculum, I BELIEVE.

Because I WORK full time and have a LIFE (unlike you in your atrocious fashion mistakes) I do not paw over with perverted glee at every HR related article to use in my assignments where my past experiences and research suffice.  You asked for references, of which I provided, I did not know a NUMBER of references qualified my research abilities.

My question is HOW in the last two years, has my work, skills and research abilities been SO SUBSTANDARD you feel compelled to FAIL every assignment I turn in? Have your predecessors been complete dolts as to pass our inferior pieces of literary art? Are we so dim we can barely slobber through a sentence and you must point out our shortcomings because of a dangling participle? OF WHICH YOU SPELLED WRONG IN THE CORRECTION?

Honestly, I think your judgmental, haughty and pompous bullhorn lectures and subsequent "feedback" of our assignments is your schaudenfreude absolution to ensure your 'superiority' over anyone you feel is less than you due to a complete lack of interest in something as boring as micro managing the training of others.

To Whom It May Concern

What's a little Christmas Cheer without a Happy Go To Hell, too?

To the Holiday Travel Drivers:

You are the reason the Autobahn would never be a success here. This entire concept eludes your incredibly simple, NASCAR thinking. The left lane, aka "fast lane" is there so that SLOWER traffic moves to the right, keeping the flow of traffic free of clogs.  You, doing your best to portray an artery plaque globule have decided to attempt to control the easy flow around you. You, in your infinite wisdom of racing theory have decided to take any attempt to get around your slower moving cesspool of intelligence results in you taking the very notion PERSONAL and play road-rage games to deny any and all others access to the freedom of MOVING WITH THE SPEED OF TRAFFIC.

Don't get emotional. It's just a lane. It does not have your name on it. You do not own it. In your sad attempt to control those around you because you yourself are spineless and this is your passive aggressive outlet at lashing out this is not something you should try to take on in your infantile maturity. This is not the second grade where the bully Gary is trying to cut in front of you in the lunch line taking the last ranch-style french fries. It is just a freeway. And you should read the signs that say. SLOWER TRAFFIC TO THE RIGHT.

At a cross roads with Cross Roads

I remember when Cross Roads used to be the funky fashion spot for the mainstream misfit. Want to dress like a punk and get away with a cheap wardrobe? Go to Cross Roads. You can get a cheap flight jacket, corduroy pants galore AND Doc Martins. Need a go-go outfit for your Halloween party? Go to Cross Roads. Need a furry purple sweater? Cross Roads Trading Company had muppet-skinned clothes too.

Somewhere during the time I started shopping at REAL clothing stores that weren’t USED I developed a penchant for Anne Taylor, Calvin Klein, Express and Bebe etc and stopped decorating all my clothes with safety pins. Oh, and I stopped wearing all black. In short? I grew up and dressed like an adult. Malicat, one of our friends, who always looks SO put together told me, after I enviously asked where she’d gotten a cute denim DKNY dress, said Cross Roads. Huh? They have normal clothes there? Apparently so. And, the cool thing about Cross Roads was that they would buy your clothes too, so you could receive a credit to shop with or cold hard cash for a smaller percentage – but cash nonetheless.

Recently, I was de-stashing and thought, wow – these are some cute clothes I don’t fit into anymore. They’re name brand – Banana Republic, Gap, Anne Taylor, Express but I just don't feel like depressing myself by wistfully peering at them and whimsically trying them on, only to realize half-way through a pretzel position I'm never going to wear them again. Most of the clothes are a year old or less, maybe a little more. But still very fashionable and in style. So, I decided with today’s current economic crisis instead of BUYING clothes, or giving them away and missing out on a tax-deduction since they never give you a reciept ANYWAY, I was going to sell mine to Cross Roads! Ingenius idea. I’m saving money and helping the environment and imparting some of my style to others. I had a huge bag full of clothes and went to sell. As the multiple facial-pierced buyer went about scrutinizing my clothes I went and perused their racks. I found a couple of cute pants that I could use for work but! I was not here to buy. I was here to sell. I made a mental note at just how cheap these pants were from one of my favorite store – Express – before they turned Bebe skanky – the pants were a lot like the ones I was putting up for sale. Now, Cross Roads claims they purchase current season name-brand clothes for resale. But, as I was screeching plastic hanger after plastic hanger across the metal rack I narrowed my eyes at some of the ‘name brands’ they had. George? Do you know who makes George? WALMART. Among other unidentifiable boutique tags I began to doubt the buyer’s abilities or their claim to sell "name brand".  Just how "name brand" are we talking? It has a name on the tag and is now being sold for more than it was originally purchased for?

About a half an hour later the slacker-styled buyercalled me back and informed me that she was going to buy only 3 items. I refrained from rifling through the bag to see just which of my personal selection they decided to keep, flattered that my clothes were worthy of purchasing for sale – but… only 3? I had over 21 articles in there. Curiousity was killing me to see just what they purchased. Then, I was even more crestfallen at the amount they were offering me. $21 for store credit or $14 cash. Now I really wanted to know just what they purchased to know if the value was comparable. Then, you know what the neo-avant garde chick said? “Some of your stuff is last year’s style but the three items we purchased will do”. Rather than looking like a desperate hobo crack head wanting to score crack money I took the cash and left. Last year’s style? Like I’m going to buy NEW clothes to bring in here and sell for a diminished price. OF COURSE it’s last year’s style.

Once home, however I scavenged through the bag and discovered they took 2 pairs of pants, one from Bebe that was over 5 years old and terribly pilled but I threw in the bag anyway, a pair of cute Banana Republic pants I hated parting with but I am not going to fit into a size 2 anytime soon and a crisp white collared shirt from Express. Also several years old. My fall stuff I had bought last season from Ann Taylor? STILL IN THERE. Brown embroidered skirts, orange and pumpkin colored sweaters, sharp pants that I just can’t and don’t want to squeeze into – WHY? I know style recycles every 5 – 7 years, but I most of my clothes I purchase are timeless which begs me to wonder when their sign on the door stated they were looking for fall items, light sweaters, etc WHY they didn’t buy EXACTLY that?

There is another Cross Roads in another part of town and I thought I’d try my luck again with THEM. This time? I threw in my lesser brand clothes including 3 George shirts from WALMART, since that was incredibly popular at the other store and walked in with TWO bags, confident they’d find SOMETHING to buy. When I walked in I was met with the quintessential token gay guy as a buyer who was really nice and professional and some girl with a terrible eighties Madonna-esque satorical decision who I wondered if was old enough to drive. I was not impressed with this store as it looked like I just walked into a Ross in Beirut. Clothes in NO particular ordered hung askew and it was packed with mouth-breathing teenagers favoring the “I-just-rolled-out-of-bed” look (at 6pm at night). This particular store had no regard for any particular theme of clothes – anything went but was mostly influenced by the trendy 80’s look. And it wasn’t like the NEW stuff to look like you came from the 80's but clothes actually FROM the 80's that were pilled, torn, faded and stretched out. It smelled like my high school gym locker room.

I perused the racks while they looked through my impressive two bags of clothes and really found NOTHING that sparked my fancy. However, still over-confident that they’d find SOMETHING, I spied a cute light Mohair sweater that could be dressed up for work or dressed down for casual. I plucked it up thinking I’d have enough store credit to buy it and ask for cash back. After 45 minutes, they still hadn’t called me up, but were calling folks who came in after me. I know I have poor hearing but the place was as big as our walk-in closet – I would have heard. So finally, I wandered up to see when my stuff would be looked at. The tiny elf of a cashier blankly looked at me, blinked and vapidly said, “we decided not to buy anything”.

What? Together those two bags of clothes probably cost about $600 and are cut to be timeless with no garish prints, no trendy styles, are taken care of to not be faded, frayed and if any hemming or alterations were done – they were done so they could be undone easily. So, I guess looking like you crawled out of a bad 80’s album cover is more important to these twits who wouldn’t know classic style if it took a vinyl album and smashed it over their insipid heads is preferable to people who can actually afford this crap. But, I still had that stupid sweater in my hand and no credit. Not wanting to look like a complete ass by dumping the sweater because they didn’t buy my clothes I bought it.

It has mohair in it. Do you know what mohair is? It’s goat. Well, a blend actually of shed animal fur. Do you know what happened to the last sweaters I owned that were mohair and angora? Ferris ate huge holes in them and then humped them. In defeat I went home with this stupid sweater and reported to Vin that I went in the hole on the trip and sulked. I had hung the sweater on our entry hall hanger and no sooner was I home for twenty minute did I hear a crash in the hallway. Ferris? Was dragging the sweater into his room to hump it.

To Whom It May Concern

To the Person Who Found Skinny Monkey Looking for "Skinny Nicknames":

Really? Were you looking for us? Or, were you truly looking for nicknames that are skinny? Like as in short? Skinny as in "the deal" like, what's the skinny? Or is that some new slang like phat. Instead of phat, it's skinny? Or, are you overweight trying to look for a name that will make your online persona skinny? You know, nicknames just aren't cool unless someone ELSE gives them to you. It's like George Costanza on Seinfield. You can't give yourself a nickname like T-bone and expect a) people to respect and b) use it without laughing AT you. So, good luck in your search for 'skinny nicknames'.

And, for the person who found us by searching for "round table pizza discounts"... HUH? I'm sorry that in your search for saving money on the crappiest and most expensive pizza in the world landed you here. We make our own, or patron a small neihborhood joint aptly named Papa's Pizza. Not to be confused with Papa Murphy's (See grease pie, but damn good), or Papa John's (another rip off). Oh, no Papa's stands out on its own! There is no comparison to Papa's Pizza, the original pizza parlor! With specialty pizza's like taco or the yummiest chicken garlic EVER. So, good luck in your search for discounts on the crappiest pizza EVER.