Over the last several months, a surprising number of people has approached me demanding I start posting again. I’ve honestly never felt more flattered and am telepathically high-fiving all of you right now. Can you feel it? I hope so. But guys, maintaining a blog is hard work. It might look like fun and games but it’s actually the worst. Writer’s bloc is a tough bitch to beat. Still, your comments have been so heartwarming that I decided to try to write again.
I should mention that things probably won’t be like they used to. The name ‘Bad Bangs’ doesn’t even really make sense anymore – I’ve outgrown my frustrating grade school haircut and Maria, having been in a committed relationship for years now, no longer has hilarious tales of sexual misadventure to share with us. I’d like to pick up where she left off but I never bang anyone. Everyone is gross. I’ll have to try to entertain you through topics of a different nature.
If you’re wondering what’s happened in my life over the last while, the answer is not much. I’ve had lots of ups (finishing university, great times with friends, memorable meals) and lots of downs (heartbreak, death, working out a lot and seeing my boobs shrink). I wish I could have a better update for you, but I don’t.
I do, however, have a story so good it made me laugh until I got a stomach ache. My good friend Bianca (whose ridiculous life I will no doubt dedicate entire posts to) used to work at a cafe downtown. Her bosses were a married couple. Bianca hated them. They stepped all over her. After a while, they started giving her giving her less and less hours. It seemed as though they resorted to this because they didn’t have the balls to fire her. She eventually stopped working there altogether; I can’t remember if she quit or if they let her go.
At first she was relieved but as time went on, she couldn’t find another job. The money she’d saved quickly ran out and she was getting desperate. Ironically, the cafe called, begging her to return to work. Obviously she would have rathered die in a fire than work there again, but the situation seemed to play out to her advantage. She needed money, and they needed her.
Her joy was short-lived. After just a few shifts, they told her something along the lines of, “fuck u lol we found someone else, go away” and she was out of a job yet again. Bianca was pissed. Who did these assholes think they were?
On her last shift, she called me asking how she could fuck their shit up. I told her to smear a turd all over the place. She agreed that this way no doubt the best thing to do. As she went to buy cigarettes on her break, she ran into a hobo she knows (?). He’s apparently doing well for himself now – has an apartment and a job. She told him about her day, and how she wanted to screw her bosses over. He said he could help her out.
Bianca returned to the cafe and soon enough, her friend appeared – and he wasn’t alone. He’d brought another hobo. A wasted one. Together they yelled absurdities, flailed their arms and the drunk one even barfed. The owners demanded they leave but the men weren’t having it. Bianca’s face beamed with happiness (note that she was ecstatic at the rush revenge provided; not at the possible addictions and psychological problems said poor men may sadly have).
Everything worked out in the end – Bianca got the last laugh and even ended up finding another job. She promised me that she’s dedicating her first paycheck to taking me to the shooting range. What a friend!
OK that’s all.