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Just some random facts about me-

 

They call me Yo...

 

Some hate it, others love it...

 

Whether you love it or hate it, they still call me “Yo.”

 

I say “whaddupyo,”  “whaddup,”  “Yo, whaddup,” and “Yo” in various iterations of that phrase way more than is healthy for a responsible adult...

Some hate it, others love it...

Whether you love it or hate it, I still say it, “Yo...”

“...whaddup!”

I am an on-site, live-in administrator in the geriatric ward at an assisted living center for canines in various stages of blindness, deafness and incontinence.  

I’m on call 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

Most people would consider me to be a fairly knowledgeable, well-read, “in-the-know” type of person, up on current events both worldwide and locally but to be honest, the only reason I subscribe to the local newspaper is because it makes an excellent, inexpensive and disposable potty pad for daily use in the geriatric ward at the assisted living center for blind, deaf and incontinent canines.

My dogs think I’m a portable snack dispenser and also think that breathing oxygen and expelling methane are rewardable practices.

My cat thinks that God put me on this planet to spank his little bottom whenever he deems it necessary...

...which is ALL the time (I’m not even kidding)!

I have bad luck at restaurants...

If I go to a restaurant, SOMETHING, SOMEHOW, SOMEWAY is going to go wrong 98% of the time whether it’s bad food, cold food, NO food*, bad service, no service, somebody at the table gets the wrong food or the baby sitting at the table behind me has a crappy diaper...

Something ALWAYS goes wrong.  This may sound like I’m exaggerating but I have family members that would rather dine out (sans me) and bring me home a doggybag bag...

...which I then have to share with all the inmates in the geriatric ward at the assisted living center for blind, deaf, incontinent dogs.

*I once went to KFC and they ran out of chicken...

KFC! That would be Kentucky Fried CHICKEN!!! How can it possibly be that Kentucky Fried CHICKEN would run out of CHICKEN???

I’m telling ya, I couldn’t make this stuff up even if I tried!

It’s all my fault, somehow they knew I was coming...

I haven’t quite yet figured out how to prove the statistics of it all but I am abso-posi-lutely sure that I am the only person in the world who EVER changes the toilet paper roll...

And I STILL haven’t quite figured out why I can never figure out that the toilet paper roll NEEDS changing until AFTER I sit down and it’s way to late to get back up...

And btdubs, why does toilet paper have to be stored down the hall at the other end of the house?  Why can’t it be stored where’s it most needed- next to the toilet???

I delivered pizza to support myself while I went to college.

And, as God is my witness, I NEVER ONCE spit in your food or dipped your pepperonis in foreign substances no matter how big of a jackass you were the last time I delivered to your house.

HOWEVER, please note:  If your pizza was late, or not piping hot, you got itty-bitty pigeon wings instead of big honking chicken wings, or you got a warm soda that exploded when you tried to open it, I mighta maybe coulda had something to do with that...

...primarily because your tightwad, cheapass self stiffed me after I spent an hour driving 34 miles (store to door to store) and it cost me $4.89 in gas (which came out of MY pocket) bringing you your food the LAST time you ordered...

DUDE!  Pizza delivery to your door is a PRIVILEGE and a SERVICE, not a God-given right. If you don’t wanna tip the Pizza Guy, then YOU spend an hour driving the 34 miles (door to store to door) and pick that sh*t up yourself!

With that said, who do you really think is gonna get their food first?  The dude who tips $10 every time he orders pizza delivery or the dudette who’s guaranteed to stiff the driver every time he shows up at her door???  

Noooo, I’m not bitter but please file this little tidbit of information away for future reference- The Pizza Guy DOES know who you are and he DOES remember where you live.

I once got wrote up for having a “substandard work quality” for doing exactly what the managing shift supervisor told me to do...

Everything had been hunky-dory up until the moment I asked for a raise; things just kinda went downhill after that...

BTDubs- Me no longer worky there...

The Sock Monster HATES my guts with a particularly vehement passion.

He LOVES my socks though, he finds them delectably scrumptious and mouth-wateringly delicious...

Whenever I’m around my ex-wife, I say “ain’t” constantly just because it drives her up a wall.

If you haven’t noticed, I write way more gooder than I talk.

I once drove from SC to FLA (364 miles) with a Rapala Shad Rap fishing lure embedded in my arm because I was too cheap to go to the emergency room...

I have NEVER gotten a brand new shirt without spilling food all over it the very first time I wore it...

I can’t even eat a sandwich without getting mustard all over my shirt...

(The sandwich doesn’t even have to have mustard ON it for me to get mustard all over my shirt)

Key Lime Pie is bad... BAD Key Lime Pie!

I went to the doctor one time to get checked out for some neurological problems and his official diagnosis was that I’m just REALLY clumsy...

(I’m not even making that up!)

Trust me! You’re not the only one who doesn't think that I know what I'm doing...

HEY! It’s not MY fault I never learned to accept responsibility...

But it doesn’t matter anyway, nobody EVER pays any attention to me or my opinions on the way things ought to take place...

If they did, the world would be a MUCH better place!

I’m just sayin’ “Yo...”

“...whaddup!”

 

 

 

 

Wanna hear more of my philosophical outlook on life?

Check out the blog @

dailydoseof.whaddupyo.com

or follow me on twitter:

twitter.com/whaddupyo