The other day I was out running errands and I had to stop at the grocery store real quick to grab something. Maybe it was some baby wipes cause they were on sale 2 for $5. Gotta keep it clean. As I pull in and see some lady standing in front of the door holding up some sign with an ape on it, locked behind bars looking like it is doing 25 + for first degree murder. There are pamphlets, a donation bucket, and a one of a kind tee shirt that I am sure comes free if you decided to support the ape’s cause, which is mostly likely getting him a non state funded lawyer. I think fine, there are two entrances I’ll just park at the other one and go in there. Then, to my dismay I see something even worse. TWO Greenpeace people at the other door! WHAT!!!! Now what am I gonna do?! 2 for $5 people! 2 for $5! And these Greenpeace people are the worse! So I did what I would do If I saw a bum standing there, I drove away. Needless to say, I’ve been using toilet paper and water.
I don’t know why, but I get so irritated when I am just trying to go to the store and I have to wade through all these people with the charities and petitions. Now, people selling candy or girl scout cookies outside of a store is one thing. They are not hassling you for money or trying to get you to sign something. And you can always tell them you have diabetes if they want you to buy some cookies. Also, recently there was a very lovely teenage girl playing her violin outside the store with her case open asking for donations so she could attend music camp during the summer. Since I like the arts, I gave her $5. I secretly hope she uses all that money to buy a case of rubber cement and get high as fuck and write an awesome symphony. But I digress. Things like that don’t bother me. But I don’t want to bombarded with people when I am just trying to run into the store and get something. If I wanna donate money to your charity I’ll do it online. Maybe.
I know I can always just say “No thank you” and walk away but, I am still pissed that I even have to be put in that position. So, I have devised a few certain ways to get you past that awkward, “No thanks, I already gave to Autism today” moment.
1. Always look for alternate entrances. This one is always the easiest. Even if you have to use an exit as an entrance, do it. I’ve been doing that most of my adult life. Again, I digress. This is always the easiest way to avoid them. Although, you have to make sure that you leave the same side that you came in. You don’t wanna think you are in the clear and then leave the other side with a cart full of groceries and run into the Feed The Homeless lady. Also, make sure that they haven’t moved locations. It is always smart to do a quick look out before exiting.
2. The Paris Hilton exit. A few years ago I saw the extremely talented Paris Hilton giving an interview and her talking about when she wants to avoid talking to the paparazzi (whenever that is) she pretends that she is on her cell phone. So I started using that when I wanted to avoid these money-grubbers. If you have no choice, pull out your cell and start talking to the home screen. It may seem weird but you will get the hang of it. I never knew what to be saying to nothing at the other end of the line, but after years of experience I found two absolute favorites. Even if you are in shorts and a tank top become an angry businessman/woman. “But I got an invoice saying that all the inventory was shipped to China last week. Someone needs to get on this. I don’t care....” and by this time you should be in doors. OR act like you just heard some terrible news. “Om my Lord, do you know is she is gonna be in ICU much longer? Just the other day she was taking little Cleo out to the dog run and now she....” BOOM! You’re inside and ready to start shopping.
3. This last one is very last resort but an option none the less. Let’s say both doors are stacked with people and you have left your cell phone in the car. Shit! You are walking up and they catch you in their eyeline. What do you do? You do this : you pretend that you’re deaf. That’s right. You channel your inner Marilee Matlin and get deaf on their ass. The second you see their lips start moving you throw up some fast hand signs, put your tongue to the roof of your mouth, act like you have a stuffed up nose and just simply say, “Sorry, I’m deaf”. And if you do it right, they may even be giving you money before you get back to your car. It’s a hard one to pull off but, you can’t take a chance and act like you don’t speak English. Besides, this one is just more fun to do.
So there you have it. The next time you don’t wanna have to deal with MADD or March of Dimes when you need to go to the store, just use one of these three handy methods. They work everytime. And I swear to God, for Greenpeace sake, that 2 for $5 sale better still be going on!
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
BUMS : What are they good for?
If there is one thing that freaks me the fuck out in this world, it is bums. Okay, maybe spiders too but bums take the cake. Yet, I can’t help but be fascinated. By my work there is an area, Bum Palisades as I like to call it, and everyday I make sure not to get to close. I watch them, the way they lay there on the ground, the way they introduce new fashions into society, the way they use the streets as their own toilet. Just the other night one yelled at me for turning on my headlights and waking him up. Oh, I’m sorry I have to drive back to MY HOME! It reminded me of that scene from Adventures in Babysitting where Penelope Ann Miller (Brenda to the true diehards) kicks the bum’s shoes out of the phonebooth and screams, “Ya just moved”. Art imitating life. Deep.
My favorite kind of bum is the CRACKED OUT BUM. The cracked out bum likes to have conversations with the air. Air is their therapist. They are giving you greasy bed/sidewalk head, dirty face, untied shoes, and cutting edge bum fashion. White shirts with flowers on them that are just soiled beyond belief. Denim that has seen the 1980’s and has come back around to be haute couture will cleverly ripped pockets. Skull caps that have grass stains on them because they decided to take a mini vacation to the local park. They are so out of it on crank that you know they are not gonna even approach you cause Air is giving them life advice. A few years ago I was leaving a concert downtown and I as I was driving a cracked out lady bum, which are the best by the way, leaped out in front of my car and screamed “COINS?!” I slammed on my brakes, cause I ain’t serving 3 to 5 for running some fat drugged out bitch over, grabbed a handful of coins and threw them at her. Go get a 7-11 hotdog with that sister. And best believe she hit the ground to get those pennies and nickels. True story. Ask my friend Kym, he was with me.
My least favorite kind of bum is the ABRASIVE BUM. The ones that act like you owe them something cause they homeless. Bitch I ain’t working 40 hours a week to give my wage away to you, I don’t care what The Secret says! I went to the bank for work the other day and came back with $200 in small bills. I had to walk through Bum Palisades, a gated community, and this abrasive bum asked me for cash. “Sorry man” I said and he starts yelling at me! “Whatever white boy, you got cash in your hand. Shit, I’m just trying to get a meal.” Then get a job dyke! And I love the white comment. Right cause if I was black I would have just gave you the money cause of our slavery struggles. “Sorry boss, a fellow black man who is homeless asked, or axed, me for money so here is $180 instead of $200.” Fuck you bum. Bums if you are reading this, and if you are hock the computer and go to Ralph’s for a special on bread and peanutbutter, we don’t owe you anything. We work hard for our money. This iPhone didn’t buy itself. Be polite and maybe someone will help you out. I mean, I won’t, but someone may.
The last kind of bum sort of breaks my heart a little. They are the REAL LIFE BUM. The bums you see on the exit ramps who really need something to help them or their families. You can always tell the real ones. I never give these bums money. However, I have been known to keep a stack of McDonald's gift certificates in my glovebox to give to the real life bums. Who doesn’t love some french fries! Although they still make me nervous. One time I was with my cousin Kym and we were pulling in to a gas station to get some....well gas. I stopped and started to get out and saw a real life bum approaching and I just had to hop back in and drive away. I guess I feel bad and don’t wanna deal with it. It is like when Rose loses Charlie’s pension and she doesn’t know if she will be able to pay her own way. (If you don’t get this reference then we cannot be friends). At another gas station, which I guess are the new hot spots, a preggers teen real life bum started to approach me. A REAL LIFE BUM WHO IS A TEEN AND WHO HAS GOT A BUNDLE OF HOMELESS JOY ON THE WAY!!!!!! Oh hell no! That is to much. Bum overload. I mean, she is starving for two and I cannot deal with that. I gotta get to the gym, summer is right around the corner! And speaking of the gym, when I was leaving there the other day this real life bum, all tatted up with a rather chic cardboard saying he was hungry, was walking in the middle of the street. I gave him my raw protein bar, which are not cheap. He looked at it and tossed it back in my window. Oh I’m sorry!! Next time I’ll make sure to get your order in advance before I go to Whole Foods. Spicy Tuna roll and some Coconut water? Oh OK! Fuckin’ bums.
So, no matter what kind of bum approaches you just remember these three things: 1. If they crazy, you are in no harm. 2. No matter how attractive they may be or how sorry you feel for them, they be a bum. That’s not cute. And finally, 3. If they start to yell at you for not helping them out, just think “I’m prettier, I’m richer, and I have a bed to sleep in tonight.” Trust!
My favorite kind of bum is the CRACKED OUT BUM. The cracked out bum likes to have conversations with the air. Air is their therapist. They are giving you greasy bed/sidewalk head, dirty face, untied shoes, and cutting edge bum fashion. White shirts with flowers on them that are just soiled beyond belief. Denim that has seen the 1980’s and has come back around to be haute couture will cleverly ripped pockets. Skull caps that have grass stains on them because they decided to take a mini vacation to the local park. They are so out of it on crank that you know they are not gonna even approach you cause Air is giving them life advice. A few years ago I was leaving a concert downtown and I as I was driving a cracked out lady bum, which are the best by the way, leaped out in front of my car and screamed “COINS?!” I slammed on my brakes, cause I ain’t serving 3 to 5 for running some fat drugged out bitch over, grabbed a handful of coins and threw them at her. Go get a 7-11 hotdog with that sister. And best believe she hit the ground to get those pennies and nickels. True story. Ask my friend Kym, he was with me.
My least favorite kind of bum is the ABRASIVE BUM. The ones that act like you owe them something cause they homeless. Bitch I ain’t working 40 hours a week to give my wage away to you, I don’t care what The Secret says! I went to the bank for work the other day and came back with $200 in small bills. I had to walk through Bum Palisades, a gated community, and this abrasive bum asked me for cash. “Sorry man” I said and he starts yelling at me! “Whatever white boy, you got cash in your hand. Shit, I’m just trying to get a meal.” Then get a job dyke! And I love the white comment. Right cause if I was black I would have just gave you the money cause of our slavery struggles. “Sorry boss, a fellow black man who is homeless asked, or axed, me for money so here is $180 instead of $200.” Fuck you bum. Bums if you are reading this, and if you are hock the computer and go to Ralph’s for a special on bread and peanutbutter, we don’t owe you anything. We work hard for our money. This iPhone didn’t buy itself. Be polite and maybe someone will help you out. I mean, I won’t, but someone may.
The last kind of bum sort of breaks my heart a little. They are the REAL LIFE BUM. The bums you see on the exit ramps who really need something to help them or their families. You can always tell the real ones. I never give these bums money. However, I have been known to keep a stack of McDonald's gift certificates in my glovebox to give to the real life bums. Who doesn’t love some french fries! Although they still make me nervous. One time I was with my cousin Kym and we were pulling in to a gas station to get some....well gas. I stopped and started to get out and saw a real life bum approaching and I just had to hop back in and drive away. I guess I feel bad and don’t wanna deal with it. It is like when Rose loses Charlie’s pension and she doesn’t know if she will be able to pay her own way. (If you don’t get this reference then we cannot be friends). At another gas station, which I guess are the new hot spots, a preggers teen real life bum started to approach me. A REAL LIFE BUM WHO IS A TEEN AND WHO HAS GOT A BUNDLE OF HOMELESS JOY ON THE WAY!!!!!! Oh hell no! That is to much. Bum overload. I mean, she is starving for two and I cannot deal with that. I gotta get to the gym, summer is right around the corner! And speaking of the gym, when I was leaving there the other day this real life bum, all tatted up with a rather chic cardboard saying he was hungry, was walking in the middle of the street. I gave him my raw protein bar, which are not cheap. He looked at it and tossed it back in my window. Oh I’m sorry!! Next time I’ll make sure to get your order in advance before I go to Whole Foods. Spicy Tuna roll and some Coconut water? Oh OK! Fuckin’ bums.
So, no matter what kind of bum approaches you just remember these three things: 1. If they crazy, you are in no harm. 2. No matter how attractive they may be or how sorry you feel for them, they be a bum. That’s not cute. And finally, 3. If they start to yell at you for not helping them out, just think “I’m prettier, I’m richer, and I have a bed to sleep in tonight.” Trust!
Friday, May 21, 2010
Life Alert!!! Life Alert!!!
Remember those great Life Alert commercials back in the late ‘80’s? I mean, “I've fallen and I can’t get up” was everywhere. I briefly considered getting a tatoo of it on my stomach. But I figured at 8 years old the subject matter may be to dark. Anywho, they have updated the commercials. And they are a doozy. See below:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N5cpFXf1IEg
Let’s get down to brass tacks. How many packs of Salem Light 100’s has this “Magic Wand Lady” smoked? Forget Life Alert hag and get the patch. Maybe you wouldn’t need Life Alert if you got up out your smoke den and took a walk around the neighborhood. You haggy bitch, pull it together. Does Life Alert know her brand of smokes too? They know her medicine. Do they know when she waves her “magic wand” they need to get there stat with a defibrillator and a carton of Salem Light 100’s? For two easy payments of $29.95 they better bring her a 3-pack of Bic lighters too. Maybe one of those old lady leather smoke cases that also holds a lighter You know she’s got one. It is teal. But, lets move on.
I would like to call this next lady, “Heart Attack Hag”. Heart Attack Hag makes Magic Wand Lady sound like an opera singer. Heart Attack Hag straight up smokes filter-less Lucky Strikes. Not only does she pack her ciggy pack but she packs every ciggy like she is in living during The Depression. How can I take Heart Attack Hag seriously? Bitch is got classic smokers-face. Nice lines around your lips and those crows-feet really compliment the nice round bags under her eyes. Even her eye bags have bags. You know it’s bad when that shit happens. And let’s get serious, does Life Alert know that when she pushes her button that they need to bring her sliced cucumbers for those eye bags. And I hope they bring her a box of Nice N Easy #3N (Soft Natural Brown) so she can touch up her roots. No wonder no one was there for her. You wanna wake up to that! I mean forget that fact that you already have emphysema due to her second hand smoke! And why is this bitch so bitter? You’re the one smoking your face away (and most likely boozing-however I’m ok with that). Sister you done brought it all on yourself. And by the way, you’re gonna be just as alone in a nursing home. Dumb bitch.
Now on to “Eyebrow Psycho”. What the fuck is this bitch talking about sleeping easier. This dyke looks like she is so wired on blow that she hasn’t slept since the series finale of The Golden Girls. She doesn’t need Life Alert. She needs a clean mirror and fresh razor blade to cut up her 8 ball with. I wonder if she’s holding right now? I could stand to lose 5 lbs.
But the real question is, can I buy a Life Alert? Is it only for senior citizens? I’ve got 2 payments of $29.95 (barely). What about when I go on a bender and drink 2 bottles of wine and need another one. Can they bring that to me? They should have all of my information. It is my “medicine”. I like Rose, Zinfandel, and Syrah. That is all the info the need. OR what about if I wanna order food from Maria’s Italian Kitchen? Will they pick it up for me so I don’t have to pay the $5 delivery charge? Again, I will give them my info. Just pick me up a BBQ Chicken Calzone with a Sprite and a side orders of Italian fries. And ketchup. Heinz. ONLY. I will also let them know about my “Singing Condition” so when they pull up and see me half in the bag, wearing heels, singing Amy Winehouse they will know that it is perfectly natural. I’m ordering one and if all of my needs are not met, well then I will be contacting C. Everett Koop, M.D. Formal US Surgeon General. By the way, shouldn’t he be advising Magic Wand Lady and Heart Attack Hag about the risk of smoking? Just saying.
ALTERNATE BEGINNING!!!!!!!!!!!!! Check out the alternate beginning starring the GORGEOUS Magic Wand Lady:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0oCJukTgtXs&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N5cpFXf1IEg
Let’s get down to brass tacks. How many packs of Salem Light 100’s has this “Magic Wand Lady” smoked? Forget Life Alert hag and get the patch. Maybe you wouldn’t need Life Alert if you got up out your smoke den and took a walk around the neighborhood. You haggy bitch, pull it together. Does Life Alert know her brand of smokes too? They know her medicine. Do they know when she waves her “magic wand” they need to get there stat with a defibrillator and a carton of Salem Light 100’s? For two easy payments of $29.95 they better bring her a 3-pack of Bic lighters too. Maybe one of those old lady leather smoke cases that also holds a lighter You know she’s got one. It is teal. But, lets move on.
I would like to call this next lady, “Heart Attack Hag”. Heart Attack Hag makes Magic Wand Lady sound like an opera singer. Heart Attack Hag straight up smokes filter-less Lucky Strikes. Not only does she pack her ciggy pack but she packs every ciggy like she is in living during The Depression. How can I take Heart Attack Hag seriously? Bitch is got classic smokers-face. Nice lines around your lips and those crows-feet really compliment the nice round bags under her eyes. Even her eye bags have bags. You know it’s bad when that shit happens. And let’s get serious, does Life Alert know that when she pushes her button that they need to bring her sliced cucumbers for those eye bags. And I hope they bring her a box of Nice N Easy #3N (Soft Natural Brown) so she can touch up her roots. No wonder no one was there for her. You wanna wake up to that! I mean forget that fact that you already have emphysema due to her second hand smoke! And why is this bitch so bitter? You’re the one smoking your face away (and most likely boozing-however I’m ok with that). Sister you done brought it all on yourself. And by the way, you’re gonna be just as alone in a nursing home. Dumb bitch.
Now on to “Eyebrow Psycho”. What the fuck is this bitch talking about sleeping easier. This dyke looks like she is so wired on blow that she hasn’t slept since the series finale of The Golden Girls. She doesn’t need Life Alert. She needs a clean mirror and fresh razor blade to cut up her 8 ball with. I wonder if she’s holding right now? I could stand to lose 5 lbs.
But the real question is, can I buy a Life Alert? Is it only for senior citizens? I’ve got 2 payments of $29.95 (barely). What about when I go on a bender and drink 2 bottles of wine and need another one. Can they bring that to me? They should have all of my information. It is my “medicine”. I like Rose, Zinfandel, and Syrah. That is all the info the need. OR what about if I wanna order food from Maria’s Italian Kitchen? Will they pick it up for me so I don’t have to pay the $5 delivery charge? Again, I will give them my info. Just pick me up a BBQ Chicken Calzone with a Sprite and a side orders of Italian fries. And ketchup. Heinz. ONLY. I will also let them know about my “Singing Condition” so when they pull up and see me half in the bag, wearing heels, singing Amy Winehouse they will know that it is perfectly natural. I’m ordering one and if all of my needs are not met, well then I will be contacting C. Everett Koop, M.D. Formal US Surgeon General. By the way, shouldn’t he be advising Magic Wand Lady and Heart Attack Hag about the risk of smoking? Just saying.
ALTERNATE BEGINNING!!!!!!!!!!!!! Check out the alternate beginning starring the GORGEOUS Magic Wand Lady:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0oCJukTgtXs&feature=related
Thursday, May 20, 2010
WHAT UP KYMS....................
Well, Hello there. Welcome to KYMS : The Blog, the one stop shop for all of your Kymmishness needs. Do you ever need to come home after a long day and just eat some birthday cake and cheesy bacon fries? Then maybe wash it down with a bottle of White Zin and a gallon of Rum Raisin. Oh, you don’t. Well fuck you then. You would if you had the kind of Kymmish day I had. It all started at the bank this morning.
So, I figure that before work I would stop at the bank and deposit a check. One check. Just one. How long could it take to deposit just ONE check? I walk in and there is one man in front of me. As I walk behind him I hear him tell the ask the teller for a $350 withdrawal from his savings. REPLAY:
TELLER: Sure sir. May I have your account number?
KYM: Well you should have it.
TELLER: I’m afraid I don’t know it off hand. If you have your ID I could look it up for you.
KYM: But, you should know it. I bank here.
TELLER: Well sir, we have many patrons here. I’m afraid I don’t know all of there account numbers. But, if you have
your ID.................
KYM: Why do I need an ID? I bank here. Why don’t you know my account number?
At this moment, KYM looks at me and says:
KYM: Can you believe this? (To which I reply)
MASTER KYM: No, I cannot believe you expect her to remember your account number.
KYM: But I bank here.
Luckily, another teller opens her window and deposit my check and leave. Promptly I might add. You know why? Cause I had my account number.
Now I am off to work. I arrive and get to working. Now, I work at a cute restaurant in Los Angeles that has great food (HINT: Come in and pay my rent Kym). Celebrities enjoy coming in because there is no paparazzi and it is very secluded. How nice for them. Their life is so hard. I mean it is like Haiti, the ash cloud, and oil spills all rolled into one. Vomit.
So I’m working, working hard for my money, and this pop “diva” is at my first table. (By the way, fuck the word DIVA.) Now I like her, in fact I really like her, and I was excited to wait on her. She was there with her hubby and her baby, which let’s get serious, should have been aborted after the 2008 Grammy’s. I won’t tell you who she is, but this bitch is dirrty.
Needless to say, I had the Gay Giggle. I mean, I have lost my voice singing to this bitch in my car. I figure, she has got money maybe she wants bottled water. REPLAY:
MASTER KYM: Can I offer you a bottle of flat or Sparking water?
POP DIVA: Ugh, is your water filtered.
MASTER KYM: Yes it is.
POP DIVA: Well then we want that. Ugh.
Now I’m pissed. SHE’S A FUCKING BITCH-HOLE! Like I am supposed to read your tranny mind. And if I could I would tell you telepathically to lay off the pancake foundation and fire engine red lipstick you dumb bitch. So I return with the water and start to tell the table the specials and before I even get through the soups, Pop Diva DEMANDS some coffee with soy milk. Vanilla soy milk at that. I let her MAJESTY know that we don’t carry soy milk but I could bring her regular milk. EXACT WORD FOR WORD RESPONSE:
POP DIVA: If I wanted regular milk I would have asked for it.
MASTER KYM: Well, then I guess you are not having any coffee.
Now I am guessing most people don’t talk to Pop Diva like that, but fuck you bitch. You are table 34 to me OK, not Mrs......Oh I wish I could tell you who she is!!!!!! However, to my surprise Pop Diva decides she would like some coffee with skim milk. I return with the coffee and milk and finish the specials. Before I leave pop diva has another problem.
POP DIVA: Oh, wait. I’ve put too much milk in my coffee.
MASTER KYM: Just think of all the calcium you are gonna get.
POP DIVA: But, I put too much milk in my coffee.
I take their order and Pop Diva orders something that is totally not on the menu, but I tell her we can make it anyway. I go about the day and then deliver food to her and her family. Pop Diva literally eats too bites of her custom made salad then says she is full and doesn’t want anymore. Fine, waste it dyke. I gave it to a Mexican in the back. Free food is like gold to them. CASH4GOLD.com. That is a whole ‘nother story. But I digress, I ask her if she wants dessert and to my surprise she orders a creme brulee, banana creme pie, and mousse. Ok, maybe the baby likes sweets. Yeah right! Pop Diva DEVOURS all three of them. The baby gets to lick the spoon after the crème brulee is gone. I drop the check and she pays. Now this bitch has Grammy’s, # 1 records, AMA’s, major money. The bill was $75.15. The tip : $8. That won’t even allow me to buy your latest album off iTunes. Ya fuckin bitch. After work I went home and burned all of her CD’s that I had. Well, I kept the second album, it is so good!
The following is a day in the life of all things KYMMISH. Now, I am not saying that I am not Kymmish or a KYM. In fact, I am the Master Kym. It is all about realizing your Kymmishness and trying not to impose it on the rest of the world. That’s all for today. Not I gotta go get that birthday cake. I like to eat it for breakfast.
So, I figure that before work I would stop at the bank and deposit a check. One check. Just one. How long could it take to deposit just ONE check? I walk in and there is one man in front of me. As I walk behind him I hear him tell the ask the teller for a $350 withdrawal from his savings. REPLAY:
TELLER: Sure sir. May I have your account number?
KYM: Well you should have it.
TELLER: I’m afraid I don’t know it off hand. If you have your ID I could look it up for you.
KYM: But, you should know it. I bank here.
TELLER: Well sir, we have many patrons here. I’m afraid I don’t know all of there account numbers. But, if you have
your ID.................
KYM: Why do I need an ID? I bank here. Why don’t you know my account number?
At this moment, KYM looks at me and says:
KYM: Can you believe this? (To which I reply)
MASTER KYM: No, I cannot believe you expect her to remember your account number.
KYM: But I bank here.
Luckily, another teller opens her window and deposit my check and leave. Promptly I might add. You know why? Cause I had my account number.
Now I am off to work. I arrive and get to working. Now, I work at a cute restaurant in Los Angeles that has great food (HINT: Come in and pay my rent Kym). Celebrities enjoy coming in because there is no paparazzi and it is very secluded. How nice for them. Their life is so hard. I mean it is like Haiti, the ash cloud, and oil spills all rolled into one. Vomit.
So I’m working, working hard for my money, and this pop “diva” is at my first table. (By the way, fuck the word DIVA.) Now I like her, in fact I really like her, and I was excited to wait on her. She was there with her hubby and her baby, which let’s get serious, should have been aborted after the 2008 Grammy’s. I won’t tell you who she is, but this bitch is dirrty.
Needless to say, I had the Gay Giggle. I mean, I have lost my voice singing to this bitch in my car. I figure, she has got money maybe she wants bottled water. REPLAY:
MASTER KYM: Can I offer you a bottle of flat or Sparking water?
POP DIVA: Ugh, is your water filtered.
MASTER KYM: Yes it is.
POP DIVA: Well then we want that. Ugh.
Now I’m pissed. SHE’S A FUCKING BITCH-HOLE! Like I am supposed to read your tranny mind. And if I could I would tell you telepathically to lay off the pancake foundation and fire engine red lipstick you dumb bitch. So I return with the water and start to tell the table the specials and before I even get through the soups, Pop Diva DEMANDS some coffee with soy milk. Vanilla soy milk at that. I let her MAJESTY know that we don’t carry soy milk but I could bring her regular milk. EXACT WORD FOR WORD RESPONSE:
POP DIVA: If I wanted regular milk I would have asked for it.
MASTER KYM: Well, then I guess you are not having any coffee.
Now I am guessing most people don’t talk to Pop Diva like that, but fuck you bitch. You are table 34 to me OK, not Mrs......Oh I wish I could tell you who she is!!!!!! However, to my surprise Pop Diva decides she would like some coffee with skim milk. I return with the coffee and milk and finish the specials. Before I leave pop diva has another problem.
POP DIVA: Oh, wait. I’ve put too much milk in my coffee.
MASTER KYM: Just think of all the calcium you are gonna get.
POP DIVA: But, I put too much milk in my coffee.
I take their order and Pop Diva orders something that is totally not on the menu, but I tell her we can make it anyway. I go about the day and then deliver food to her and her family. Pop Diva literally eats too bites of her custom made salad then says she is full and doesn’t want anymore. Fine, waste it dyke. I gave it to a Mexican in the back. Free food is like gold to them. CASH4GOLD.com. That is a whole ‘nother story. But I digress, I ask her if she wants dessert and to my surprise she orders a creme brulee, banana creme pie, and mousse. Ok, maybe the baby likes sweets. Yeah right! Pop Diva DEVOURS all three of them. The baby gets to lick the spoon after the crème brulee is gone. I drop the check and she pays. Now this bitch has Grammy’s, # 1 records, AMA’s, major money. The bill was $75.15. The tip : $8. That won’t even allow me to buy your latest album off iTunes. Ya fuckin bitch. After work I went home and burned all of her CD’s that I had. Well, I kept the second album, it is so good!
The following is a day in the life of all things KYMMISH. Now, I am not saying that I am not Kymmish or a KYM. In fact, I am the Master Kym. It is all about realizing your Kymmishness and trying not to impose it on the rest of the world. That’s all for today. Not I gotta go get that birthday cake. I like to eat it for breakfast.
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