big fricking fish

Sydspinnin got into a low speed wreck out in wilderness. The other guy cracked his clavicle, and both their bikes are toast.

If you hear a bell be on the look out, and use that bell. This was a freak accident, they are both responsible riders. Good luck on the healing yall.

man newegg is cool BTW: it is a javascript page that will muck your browser window size. Open a new window with the link.

get your own

do i need a poop category?

looks neat, but has to be a complete piece of crap.

Being a host fricking sucked. Walking people to their table because they dont know what C3 means and pretending to care sucks. Oh I took their money as well. Oh cept for the servers who tip you so you will seat them more often. It is a very powerful position in that respect.

So drug use: You ever find yourself with some drugs you need to get rid of, go to a village inn and the employees will buy all of them. Bottles stashed in back, pipes by the dumpster, lines on the toilet, and the beer run at midnight before the drunks come in for pancakes. It never seemed to end. Your busser, host, servertron, dishwasher, and specially the cooks were all on something. Remember that when you order your #71 VIB with wheat toast.

So I am like 16 during this time. I am doing an outside trash pickup and find a pipe. I show it to another busser and my boss sees me hiding something. I get taken into the office and questioned, he takes it from me and sends me on my way. Did not get into trouble, but it scares me good. About a month later my boss asks me to go out back with him. He sparks up a bowl of nummy stuff and asks me if I can stay late so he can go to the football game. It was the pipe I found outside.

Every night we would head over to Johnny’s house, or Lanny’s trailer, or Jeff’s house and get fucked up. I learned so much from those late night parties that went into the morning hours. Watching the one eyed diabetic cook chug the bong water on a dare was something I will never forget. Gluing a beer can on the dorky server’s face after he passed out was cool too.
It is a good thing I eventually got out of there. I am glad I did not turn into a lifer, the people who will never move up in life, just keep getting loaded and go back to the min wage job.

So there is a reason cooks are in the back of the house. Mostly they are really sweaty cuz of the heat, but they are usually tattooed, pierced, unclean, and generally high on drugs. My friend Chris was known as the walking pancake. he kept his work clothes in his car and never washed them, it was horrible. Grill grease has a very pungent smell after it has been on clothes in your car for three weeks. So much food covers the floor, it makes the floor slimy and has to be hosed down, scrubbed, and squeegeed every night. There is no 3 second rule. It is only a concern if someone sees it, serious. you think a cook gives a crap if little Jimmy’s sausage hit the floor?

In the food service industry you learn to despise people who come into eat and make you work. Believe me your host, busser, waiter, and cook only pretend to like you. They will talk shit about the second you are out of hearing distance. And if you happen to have some severely nice cleavage out look into the kitchen for some cook hats popping out. People get names. marlboro man, scruffy, bacon burger man, loose Linda, ketchup guy, standing man, lactose man, brittish fuck, boy who loves his hair too much, and many more colorful names. Golden rule: never mess with or piss off the people who serve you your food. If you are a good tipper, you will be rewarded with excellent service, food, and extra stuff. We all fought for garbanzo burger guy, he tipped $5 every time. That extra dollar means a bunch to someone making $2.13 an hour.

*beerorkid does not endorse drug use, nor has ever used drugs*