Entries Tagged 'Sick/Twisted' ↓

I honestly don’t know whether to give up, cry or fly down to Tennessee to kick some superintendent ass:

But Byrnes said, “There were a couple times where she did say no or stop. The rest is up to interpretation.”

And according to Byrnes’ interpretation he said, “Nothing I could see indicated a sexual assault was taking place.”

But police detective Wayne Lawson says after watching the video, it was clear that an assault had occurred.

That’s what led to the rape and sexual battery charges police filed against Riverdale senior Brandon Stover.

Even the Rutherford County school spokesperson told the media he saw the girl ask for help.

Die in a fire, asshole.

Check out the TN GOP. Shameless! I don’t know why I continue to be surprised by the lows those yahoos will sink to, but I am aghast at every turn. Even all these years later.

You stay classy, Hobbs.

OTHERS:

• “I used to think a little better of Hobbs than this… I guess being a party apparatchnik has changed him some.”
• “I really believe it is time to take the Repub party back from the 10 year olds that hijacked it.”
• “Bill Hobbs, you can keep talking all you want about how Jews should vote for the Republicans because they’re “better on Israel” (even though what they are is better on the Likud vision for Israel, not Israel as a whole), but I’ll vote for Obama because he’s better on ALL issues of importance to Jews. He proved that with his answer on the civil rights movement.”
• “I don’t think this will play well with a lot of Republicans either. When even Karl Rove is concerned about the reputation of the party, you know its a problem.”
• “Whoever is responsible for this should be fired. Publicly and immediately. Period.”
• “Courtesy of the Tennessee Republican Party, long-time friends of religious tolerance.”

Let’s talk about those two servers who were shot at, one grazed by a bullet to the head, after chasing restaurant patrons who skated on their Joe’s Crab Shack bill in Fisherman’s Wharf. The report from CBS 5 states:

[A] group of four people were eating at Joe’s Crab Shack at 245 Jefferson Street around 10 p.m. on Sunday. Two women in the group got up and left, followed shortly by the man and a 17-year old male. All left without paying.

The SFPD said two female servers followed the two males for several blocks before confronting them in the 600 block of Bay Street. That is when police said 36-year-old Marcel Waldron allegedly turned around, brandished a gun, and shot at the workers.

Two female servers pursued to male customers for several blocks? Then confronted them? Does this seem unequivocally dangerous to anyone?

Please note that these servers worked for a chain restaurant, Joe’s Crab Shack. I point this out because I spent many years working for chain restaurants as I put myself through college. It was a soul-sucking experience in many regards. I felt my spirit crushed when I was working those jobs because, despite being paid $2.13 an hour by the company, servers were expected to do things like clean off the clock on their day off or work for ten hours without a break. I was also told, by more than one chain eatery, that if anyone “dined and dashed” on their tab that I was responsible for the bill.

Restaurants say this for a reason. It would be very easy for any server anywhere to pocket the cash left by a table of four then claim that the diners skated on the tab. The managers informed us that those diners were our resposibility, and that if they managed to take off without paying then we were not in control of our sections and did not deserve to work on the floor. And people did skate. It didn’t happen very often, but sometimes. It was mostly kids. Or the occasional con artist. But every time I saw it happen the server from that table would bolt out the door looking for the cheapskate. Rarely did they catch up to them, but sometimes they did. Personally, I confronted a man who skated on his tab and he acted as though it totally slipped his mind, then he paid up. But he could have reacted any number of ways, which is made obvious by this account.

So, I have to wonder if the managers at Joe’s Crab Shack encouraged those servers to confront the diners who dashed. It was pretty much a mandate at the places I worked. And I can’t help but think that asking servers to take on those people–off the premises–is dangerous. (There was always debate amongst the server staff as to whether making servers pay for meals that went unpaid was even legal.) I thought of calling the restaurant to ask if they ordered those servers to confront the guy who shot at them, but I doubt I would make much headway.

Any of you ever work in restaurants that encouraged this behavior? It’s not something the public at large would know about, but ex-servers are plentiful. Speak up in the comments and let me know your experience with this, if any.

[cross posted at Eye on Blogs]

Apparently if you ever decide to take your clothes off for money, then go on to achieve anything notable, you will always and forever - - and usually right off the bat - - be described as a stripper.

Also, good for Cody. Always nice to see a blogger get an Oscar. [Always? Perhaps that was a first. Anyway…] But could we all please shut the fuck up about her now? She is clogging up my tubes.

Courtesy of the TN GOP spokesman.

Last night I fell in random vomit. It was just as horrifying as you might be imagining, but it could have been worse. I should say that right up front, lest the karma gods rain on me. It only got on the soles of my shoes, my pants a little and a tiny bit on my hand. But holy gross, I fell in someone else’s puke. Your brain simply shuts down after that. You can’t think about it; how can you? You have the contents of a stranger’s stomach on your shoes and on your pants, which are wet from walking in the rain, so you can’t really tell what is stranger vomit and what is perfectly normal city street sludge, and if you think about it at all while still wearing a person’s regurgitated lunch, you too will puke.

But I could smell it. The smell of your own throw up is one nasty thing, but someone else’s? ON YOU? You have to disassociate from your befouled body. It is too much to take.

I had just had a lovely dinner with Kelly Stewart at LuLu, along with two cocktails. The drinks weren’t even that strong. After we departed I made my way to the Montogomery St. station. I saw a short line and got in it. I didn’t notice the next train was still 10 minutes away, so I made my way over to a bench when all the sudden I went down. Someone said, “Oh! You okay?” When I said, “Yeah, I just fell in…” And that is when I discovered what happened. There was smeared vomit on the ground, and I had been standing in it. The woman who asked if I was okay hightailed it as soon as she saw the reason for my spill. I wasn’t the least bit mortified, because I was too busy being revolted. As carefully as I could I rolled up the pant legs so the pukey area would not be touching my skin. Then I rode home, trying not to lose it.

Lesson learned: If the line is short, and all the other lines are super long, don’t stand there. You will slip and fall in bile and other bits of unthinkable grossness. This goes for bus seats, too. If a seat is empty, and bunch of other people are standing, leave it.

Kids keep getting shot at school or getting off the bus. These stories have become commonplace. They don’t even raise eyebrows anymore.

Reading this hunting magazine in a waiting room was so weird. The ads for bullets that “destroy bone and demolish intestines” were hard to believe. Then it occurred to me that these bone-destroying bullets were actually the more humane option when buying ammunition.

Then I just got sad.

I drove by the market on Cahal where an elderly woman was shot to death by a 14-year-old kid. It’s not my usual route, but I wanted to see if any more flowers or candles had been placed at the shop’s door. I found that the place was pretty much covered with well wishes in the form of bouquets.

I pulled over and got out of the car. I walked toward the market to get a better view of the scene and to take a few snaps with my phone. I informed a young woman who was looking at me warily, despite all the news crews gathering, that I was just a local stopping to pay my respects. She told me, “That’s fine, baby,” as she pulled her ten-year-old son closer to her. There was a palpable sense of mourning, but also apprehensiveness. It was a stranger who shot this long-time matron of the community. Because I had never stepped foot in the store, and because I had never met Mrs. Classie Wilson, I too was a stranger.

I didn’t expect to shed tears for a woman I’d never met. But something about her senseless death has stayed with me in these past few days, unlike the other murders that sometimes happen in this city. I didn’t expect to feel so raw when I stepped closer to the flowers left by loved ones, the barely flickering votive candles lined up in memory of the woman so many people called Mom. But the tragedy of the entire thing was inescapable.

Loose cigarettes. He shot her over a few cigarettes that he wasn’t even old enough to legally buy. This kid was arrested at his middle school. None of it makes any sense.

Mrs. Classie is heavy on my heart today, a woman I never met. May she rest forever in peace.

I am watching, as I sit here preparing to leave for work, a story on GMA about how Barack Obama doesn’t wear an American flag pin on his lapel.

Fuck it. Let’s just burn this mother down, Pookie.