Letting the hate outta our hearts, one blog at a time.
Cory
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Homepage: http://www.letthehateout.com
Posts by Cory
The Minnesota Vikings Hate Grandmothers!
Nov 9th
Driving to work this morning I heard a story on the radio. Surely, I thought, they must have misreported. No one is this low, this insensitive, this DUMB. After searching the internet I came to find out it was true.
Troy Williamson of the Minnesota Vikings was fined one game’s salary. Good! He was doing drugs, right? Surely he was in cahoots with Michael Vick and fighting dogs! He must have had another Viking’s Boat Tour with hookers and all, correct?
Nope! He missed their game versus the San Diego Chargers to attend his Grandmother’s funeral! A Funeral for Christ’s sake! And not a 3rd cousin twice removed. The man’s Grandmother! Williamson was too busy making travel arrangements for his family and burying his grandmother to come the game. It isn’t even as if he just didn’t show. He TOLD them he was going to miss the game. This, my friends, is a PR nightmare for the Vikings. My 12 year old niece fresh from recess could do a better job making decisions for the Vikings than the moron who allowed this one to happen.
Williamson makes about 450K a year so this fine was a measly $25,588. WOW! That is close to my base salary a YEAR. This almost makes me glad my grandparents have all moved on to better places so that Vikings don’t try to garnish my wages! The Vikings coach had the nerve to comment on this and say something along the lines of “we are a business.” Hey Brad Childress, you’re an idiot. About 95% of “companies” in America offer their employees bereavement time off (I have included a link the definition for your dumb ass). Way to stick your stupid foot in your mouth and make yourself look even more heartless. You and your PR rep should have mulled over that response a little while longer.
Sad thing is.. I was becoming a Vikings fan since Adrian Peterson was drafted by these fine examples of humanity. AD… Pray for free agency.. SOON! Then run your ass outta town!
Hide your grandparents folks, the Vikings are coming!
Walmart is the Spawn of the Devil!
Oct 18th
The Devil! The Devil I tell ya! Walmart has been the bane of my existence for a long time now. I can’t just “swing by” Walmart. I have to lurk. I have to browse. I am like a woman in a clothing store in Walmart. A simple task of getting dog food ruins my day!
Here’s the breakdown. You see, I recently moved out to the sticks. A small town in Oklahoma that is about 30 miles from the next small town. Now my small town doesn’t happen to have a Walmart. In the city, I could just run on down a mile away to the nearest Walmart and purchase my goods. Now I have to use 1/2 a tank of gas and drive to a different area code to get dog food.
Boomer and Jake are picky little bitches. They will only eat a certain kind of food. Now it isn’t expensive stuff but they don’t sell it anywhere in Eufaula. Sooooooo, I have to drive 30 miles to Walmart in McAlester.
I jump in the car a couple of days ago, on my day off I might add, to “swing by” Walmart. I get there and enter the large, spacious treasure trove of consumer goodness. But alas, it is not goodness! It is the Devil’s work pulling me in. 2 hours later I leave Walmart after spending $282.34! I got good deals. There were bargains. What the hell do I have to be whining about?
Well.. I start on my return journey to the casa. I get home about 30 minutes later and begin to unload my car. Bag after bag of my recent tidbit purchases. But wait! What have I done??!?!?
I FORGOT THE GOD DAMN DOG FOOD.
It was the Devil! I swear! He made me do it! Damn you Walmart, damn you straight to hell!
Beware of the Drive Through Speakers!
Oct 16th
Ok.. I am going to hell. I did something very, very mean tonight and it really wasn’t my fault. I ran on down to Walmart. When I say “ran on down” I really mean I drove 35 miles. (Still not used to this country livin’ where you have to drive 90 miles to get anywhere.) I needed to get some dog food as Jake and Boomer were out and they were tired of eating only Ol’Roy dog treats.
So it is about dinner time and I decided to take a trip on over to Wendy’s. You see, being from Oklahoma City, I had the great pleasure of having access to the best hamburger EVER. The #1 with extra cheese from Johnnie’s Charcoal Broiler! It is seriously heaven on a bun. Seeing as how there isn’t one out here in the sticks I had to find a surrogate. The Baconator from Wendy’s comes close!
I pull up to the drive through and order my dinner of 8 bacon strips on top of a 1/2 pound of beef and LOTS of melted cheese, large fries, and a soda. I could feel my arteries cringe and my ass grow just from ordering it. A quiet, high pitched voice comes from the speaker and reads back my order. Since it was correct I replied with a polite, “Yes’ Ma’am! Thank you!” and drive up to the next window.
Here is why I am going to hell…. When I get to the window I hear the voice again repeat the price to me. However, when I look up to hand over the cash I burst out in laughter. I mean.. deep, deep belly laugh for the “Ma’am” standing before me is actually a dude. This had to be a guy. His name tag read “Pat” and he,.. she,.. um.. it had a stache’ the size of Sam Elliot’s in Tombstone.
Why the laughter you ask? Well.. it’s name was Pat so that in itself was worth a laugh. But Pat’s name tag was sitting on top of the biggest pair of tits I have ever seen. Pat was not fat so it wasn’t man boobs. Pat was a skinning white kid with a huge mustache and even bigger tits. I couldn’t help myself. I burst out in the loudest laugh I have had in a long while. I honestly think I pee’d a little. I felt bad as I handed over my money. I really did but I could not help myself nor could I make myself stop laughing.
Pat was either the luckiest guy alive (come on, he has his own tits to play with!) or the ugliest woman I have ever seen.
Moral of the story: Beware of the drive through speaker! You never know WHO the hell you’re talking to!