Friday, February 22, 2013

Who's Crazier? Seriously.

Warning: this posting has nothing to do with resumes. NOTHING.

Will you enjoy it anyway?
You bet your sweet bippy you will!

So! On with the show. 

I live in a moderately sized town in Southern California 
called Simi Valley. 

Nestled approximately 1/2 way between Santa Barbara and Los Angeles, (well not really, but that's for you out of towners that usually have no clue where anything but those 2 cities are..), Simi boasts a population of approximately 126,874 people (give or take a few babies that were born in the time it took me to compose this blog piece), and used to be ranked as one of the top safest cities in the country.

Here's a lovely map for no real further clarification purposes:

See? Between Santa Barbara & LA. The green hokey map don't lie.

I grew up in Simi, in what is affectionately called "The Texas Tract" around these here parts. (Yeah, it's just a bunch of streets named after cities from Texas. Shocking I know).

Just like any hometown, bad things happen here:

Something very sad/bad happened here.

Also, ironically being featured today on Dr. Phil... Simi's massive heroin problem:
Why yes, this qualifies as another bad thing... yikes-a-hooty!

Some good things happen here too though:

Ahhh the sweet smiles of newly wedded bliss. Just try to remember how much joy you were feeling at this moment, in the rolling hills of Simi Valley, the next time you glance up and see your Handsome Groom sitting on the sofa scratching his beer belly and playing video games, oh Beautiful Bride.

Simi Valley is also known for a few things. 

We house the ever cool (regardless your political affiliation yo!) Ronald Reagan Library:

...which houses Air Force One:

which is truly breathtaking by the way

and also uber cool because you get to tour INSIDE it as well. I assure you, y'all would be shocked as to how small the actual insides are.

We were the chosen venue for the court case of Rodney King...
And no, the conservative folk of our town were NOT happy about this going on.
Like at ALL. I remember it well.

we have 1 strip club named "Snooky's" 
the whole town knows about...

I think a better name for a strip club would be "Plan B"... as in "picking up a real woman to get naked for you is Plan A... if that fails, on to Plan B." 

and bad fires... don't get me started about the bad fires 
we get out here...

Yes, this melted sign is real people. Totally NOT photo-shopped. 

But as of one fateful day back in October of 2011, Simi suddenly had something new to be known for: 

Minnie the Missing Chihuahua.

So this is Minnie, Pre-Coyote-Dung-Stage:

"Awww she'z so cute!" I know right?

I've blogged BITCHED AND MOANED about Minnie before. I scream about it on the Book of Face so much, my friends have come to specifically think of me for 3 topics: Sailing, Resumes, and Minnie the Missing Chihuahua. 

I'm not kidding. People post pics of the sign holders on my wall all the time to complain, and if they see me in person they'll say "Oh that's funny! I just saw one of those "Minnie's Missing" sign trucks go by and thought of you!"


Don't believe me? Here are some pics I've snapped, my friends have snapped, and random strangers have snapped and sent to me:

This is one of the original signs from back in the day.

And another.

And this is the latest and greatest one... held everyday by the
 used-to-be Domino's Pizza sign holder Hispanic dude with a gnarly mustache
that waves his hand at you funny as you drive by, I suppose to get your attention?
As if we didn't actually KNOW about this missing dog? Pull-lease.

My original blogging bitch session is here in case you're new to my site.

The gist of the story is this:
Some small 3 pound coyote snick-snack, overly loved by her rich husband-wife-twat-waffle owners disappeared on 10/9/11. 
This husband-wife-say the new word with me my little chickees: ~TWAT-WAFFLE~ owners are doctors. 

(Whom I will never freakin' EVER support by the way. Even if I were dying and they had the only known cure to whatever I was dying from. Even IF.)

The minute she went missing, the rich and wasteful doctors kicked their lunacy into high gear and bombarded the entire town with hundreds of fliers in bags on driveways with rocks to hold them down, stuck signs to poles lining the entire west end of the valley, put sign holders on multiple corners at all hours of the day, and talked people into driving their vehicles around with Tyrannosaurus Rex sized banners and door magnets bearing Minnie's pic.

 It's Fudiculous. With a capital "F".

This whole entire epidemic has become a running joke in Simi. 

Should you ever come here to visit (although I don't necessarily know WHY you would, except to score some heroin now that you've seen Dr. Phil's show) and nothing readily comes to mind to speak to the natives about, just ask:
"So! What do you think REALLY happened to Minnie?" 

You'll get answers like "It's an elaborate hoax, it's Simi Valley's version of the Truman show" or "Coyote Dung!" etc. 

Whatever they say, they will IMMEDIATELY slam into gear and want to talk about it. Not one person I've talked to at grocery stores, gas stations, or retail shops (cuz yes, I'm a freak like that and will just talk to random strangers-don't judge) has even been *slightly* on the side of the nutcase owners, who've shelled out more money than the Gross National Product of Portugal to obsessively advertise for the lost, fur-laden cause. 

It's the most insane-in-the-membrane campaign. 

While I appreciate the opportunity for our local printers and sign makers and holders to make some money, 
Put the signs away, stop badgering the poor citizens of our city with your bullshit, and GET A GRIP.

Why yes, Bunny O'Rage, I share your hatred for Minnie's owners.

And so setting that case aside for a moment, let's examine another kind of cray-cray... exclusively relegated to Simi Valley.

Not as many people know about this particular freak show as he's on a side residential street on my path to work, in a neighborhood not many people dare to venture to. 

For FIVE YEARS I have driven by this anomaly of a man, who has the facial structure of Waldorf from the Muppets when he turns around to startle the passers by:

Yes, just like the dude on the right. Only with creepier eyes.

Are you ready for it?
Are you SURE?????
I'm not sure you are. 
Really, I'm not.
I think this is possibly a one-of-a-kind situation. 
For reals.
So I'm using all this blather to be a cliff hanger, is it working?

Oh alright, I guess you're as ready as you'll ever be.

I present to you, Crazy Dirt Boy:

This man walking poster child of mental illness piles, wets, rearranges, moves, constructs, dirt. And then he grows helpless, terror stricken plants in it. 

By the way, his legs aren't exceptionally short (he's actually quite tall), he was just DOWN IN A FUCKING HOLE he'd dug when I snapped this pic.

Here's another one for good measure:


Let me just say these few things about this particular situation:

1. The amount of water he wastes is epic and tragic. I'm assuming he can't afford a better house simply because his water bills are astronomically high. That and he has no time for a job, cuz THIS shit fest is what he DOES.. which leads me to #2:

2. He's out there ALL DAY LONG. I'm talking from sun up to sun down. Think of the actual worthy projects that would benefit if somebody could just figure out how to *safely harness* that energy and effort. Mind blowing.

3. He needs help. I see him driving around and even ran into him (literally, turned around and bumped into him) at the gas station last year. 
Yes, it was shocking. 
Yes, he smelled of dirt and stench.
Yes, his face is scarier in person.
Yes, it took everything in me to remain calm and not run for my life.

But seriously, he's OUT DRIVING AROUND, like an everyday,  ho-hum Simi Valley Citizen. 

I used to work in a mental health outpatient facility and this dude would have been labeled a Defcon level 1 situation. How can we get him into a facility that can take care of him?

4. What must the backyard look like? Oh sweet baby Jebus. Just let that one sink in for a minute. Where do you think all that dirt came from? I'm supposing he's either stealing it from other neighbors' yards, OR he's getting it from the back yard. I'm betting there's an ACTUAL tunnel to China back there. Also? Dead bodies not resting in peace under constantly restructured mounds with terrified plants growing out of them.

5. Tell me people... does this situation not remind you of this?:

OMG! What if he watches Days of Our Lives too?  AAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!

So, in closing, I ask you, who's crazier my chickadees?

Minnie's owners?
Or Crazy Dirt Boy?

Maybe it's all the heroin. 
That's gotta be it.

Peace out my peeps!

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Oh boy oh boy oh boy

Well I know I've disappeared for awhile here ... and I wasn't going to say anything about it or point it out ... was just going to carry on as if I hadn't skipped a beat or been missing at all, but a lot of you have noticed and have been concerned enough to contact me through the 16 (yes I counted) creative ways to get a hold of me to ask me "WTF?!? Where did you go? I NEED TO LAUGH" etc.

So thank you, those of you that claimed I'm missed. 

You made me feel *super special*, almost like a minor D rated celebrity for half a second there, but your message has been received, loud and clear. 

I need to keep writing, not only to make you poor saps laugh but to help me keep my sanity.

It's been exactly 30 days since I last blogged. 

That's an epic number for me considering a couple of years ago I posted almost EVERY SINGLE DAY.

So WTF could be going on that's been keeping my attention from blogging you might ask? 

Well here's a list of some of the things I've managed to accomplish while I've been away.

Since I'm a jokester and the court jester for most of the hours that make up my typical day, these accomplishments/distractions may or may NOT be true, so I'll just let you speculate which ones are accurate:

I've been over-run with resume orders. 
I've been secretly writing a book.
I'm knee deep in an office move at my insurance job.
There's construction going on at my house.
I have a teenager that needs a kick in her ass more often than usual lately.
I got a tattoo.
I went on a drinking binge.
I had some "work" done.
I have 3 new boyfriends. Oh, and the usual husband.

Out of all the *possible* made up scenarios, that last one seems to be kicking my ass the most. ;0)

Seriously though here folks, I've been busy.
Who the eff cares doing what, let's just get down to the resume silliness shall we? Bring it baby!

The pile of absolute resume CRAP I've collected over those last 30 days is pretty much bathing in awesomesauce. 

Although I haven't had a spare moment to sit down and express my feelings in this particular venue as of late, the giggling fits at my desk have not ceased.

Lo and behold, people are Still. Stupid.

Oh boy oh boy oh BOY are they stupid.

I'll start with some simple ones, and work my way up the catastrophic ladder... baby steps as they say right?

From James- who listed all the hundreds of ways one can get a hold of him at the top of the resume, and right in the middle, smooshed in between 4 different phone numbers was this little diddy:

Really James? 
Fuck you.
I will not be contacting you at all. Asshat.

And then there was Michelle, who has a penchant for brackets and all things parentheses-related--- here's how her resume was laid out:

"Objective: [to obtain a career]
Summary of Qualifications: [March 2009-July 2009]
[Bank of America]
[Santa Clarita, CA]
[Responsible for collecting and counting money]"

And on and on it went, like this, down the ENTIRE PAGE. 
[Who does this??]
[Oh wait, probably somebody that's stupid enough to put that their Objective is to obtain a career. Silly me.]

Then there was Tim, sweet, sweet, ridiculous Tim.
Who applied to a SALES POSITION that specifically stated "road warrior" status in the job description (meaning, one has to not only have a car, but it will be overflowing with fast food wrappers, receipts, and daily trash because one will be spending a SHITLOAD of time in it).
Tim put THIS in his cover note to me:

"Thank you for perusing my resume. For your benefit, I'm not a sales person, I don't have any professional "level" type experience, and am currently without reliable transportation. Thank you again."

I'm sorry, wait, what? How exactly does this "benefit" me? 
And furthermore, why the fuck would I want to even FLIP TO THE NEXT PAGE to even GLANCE at his resume after he's made himself so unattractive as a candidate?

Next up is Patrick... who put this in his resume opening statement:

"I am currently enrolled at Ashford University, working to earn a degree in Early Childhood Development. I only want a job in this field so as to bring cohesiveness to my life."

Really Patrick? REALLY?
Why would you say this? 
Scratch that, why would you apply to MY posted position, IN THE INSURANCE INDUSTRY, and say this? I'm astounded at your level of foolishness.

Fresh off the IT Turnip Truck, we have Anthony... who sent me his IT resume and had the nerve to say THIS to me with it:

"Hi Stephanie. I would be interested in a different position if one comes up that would fit under IT, as my skills are more closely honed to this category. Please take the time to keep in touch and forward my resume to the head of IT.
Thank you."

Yeah, you're so right Anthony, I have NOTHING BETTER TO DO than your exact request. Thank you for fulfilling my life. I've waited so long for you to come along!

Then there was Gail, who applied for a telemarketer position here in our District Office in Southern California, who lives in OHIO and wanted me to relocate her to here, on our dime. For a $10 an hour, part-time TELEMARKETER position. 

Next up was Jon, who puts at the top of his resume that he's retired. 
But didn't mean to be. 
And then after all that, specifically said this:
"Still healthy, vibrant, active with no maladies.. would like to be back to active employ."

Adrian put his contact info at the top of his resume, and then this, and ONLY this:

"Job objective: CONSTRUCTION. No experience."

And that was it.

From Ken ... a personal note attached to his resume highlighting his very accomplished position as a "Cartoon Character":

"What are you going to pay me every day for this position? I have a couple of bills I pay but am barely able to afford to pay them as I'm grinding it out right now like something fierce."

Did Ken just say that to me? 
Where the fuck am I? 
In the Twilight Zone? 
Oh wait, I must be in Cartoon Land.

And then there's poor, POOR Tina, who graduated from FIDM, and is being aptly punished and having all her dreams of being a famous fashion designer DASHED every day of her life when she has to show up and... wait for it... "Scrub mannequin body parts".

Next up, one of my personal all time faves... Devin.
Oh boy, where do I begin with this one?
Devin is ... um ... special.
This is his entire resume:

"1.) I worked as a furniture manufacturer with this very special material I took the time to acquire from a beach in Ventura, called driftwood. After collecting this special material, me and the company owner Donnie would use tools to create rocking chairs. After months of doing such, we wanted to expand, so I would enter stores and badger them into letting us sell our chairs at their establishments. Donnie was my mother's boyfriend for 12 years, but nonetheless, he cannot be contacted, because he expired on September nineteenth two thousand and ten. "

And last but certainly not least... drum roll please...


There's SO many things to choose from on Daniel's resume.. Just. So. Many.

Under his Summary of Qualifications and Skills, he posted that he excels at "visionless typing"
WTF is that?

He also stated that he has "Fantabulous Managerial Skills".
Who says that on a resume???!?

And of course, Daniel was the type to include TONS of personal information, which is a major no-no. 

Under the "About Me" section (cuz you know, it's not just a resume submission, it's an opportunity to practice for your eHarmony profile):
"Strong Ethics/Very Creative/Love to Smile/Positive Character & Vibe/Ok with traveling to distant places"

and the best, absolute BEST part of Daniel's resume was this info under the "Personal Info" section:

"Favorite shows: Three's Company & Knight Rider 1980's" and "something interesting about me, I have a bird named Charlie that sleeps with me at night."

Should I call him and ask him to bring the bird with him to his fake interview?

Until next time... peace out my peeps!