Not a Bitch

I worked in retail hell for 11 years. When I first started working there, if I ever had a problem, I’d talk about it with one of my supervisors, whether it was a department or store manager. Eventually, I realized the futility of doing that. So, I just started dealing with things myself. Every once in a while, a manager would say something to me about what I had done, but, for the most part, they were content to just let me do things my way.

Also, during those 11 years, I spent a lot of time listening to my coworkers bitch about the conditions in the store (which is something they did almost non-stop). Now, I’m not going to lie and say that I never bitched about anything, but I rarely bitched for two reasons. The first is because I didn’t want to sound like the whiny people I worked with.

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Versus: Episode 11

It is yet another late edition of Versus. At one point, I had hoped to do one of these every week. That has not happened in a very long time. Unfortunately, life has gotten in my way……stupid life….

I hope you’ve all missed it. I’m pretty sure you didn’t, but I’ll allow myself to be a little deluded on this one.

The first matchup for today comes from Faithhopechocolate, the ever awesome.

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The Future Is Bleak

I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: After seeing the next generation, I fear for the world.

For example, a little bit away from my house, there’s a street called Birch. Every time I drive past it, it brings my fear for the future back. Here’s why:… still says Birch.

Some of you may be thinking, “Why is that worrisome?” I’ll tell you why. Most areas (At least, most of the areas that I’ve been to anyways) have their street signs in all capital letters. So, most of the time, it would read BIRCH. In my area, the street signs only have the first letter capitalized. That means it says Birch. Continue reading

My Blog

As most, if not all, of you are aware of, there have been changes made at Stuphblog. Because of this, I will no longer be posting there. From now on, I will only be posting here (Well, until Matticus and I start another story, anyways. Then, I’ll occasionally be posting at the Kingdom).

To be honest, it’s probably for the best this way. Don’t get me wrong, I loved having a blog with my brother and Jaded, but Stuphblog never felt like it was mine. To me, it was always my brother’s place and I just hung out there from time to time. No matter how much he tried telling me that this wasn’t the case, I always felt like an outsider there.

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The Last Thing I Remember

This is a short story I had pop into my head while at work one day that I just had a chance to write down. While I was writing it, I thought that the concept of “The Last Thing I Remember” would make a pretty good prompt for people to make into their own stories. There’s so many different directions that it can be taken. Mine is rather …..wrong.

If you feel like writing your own tale of someone’s last thing remembered, feel free to do so. Also, you can link back to this post, if you so choose.

Immediately after I woke up, a bright light was being shined into my eyes.  This was followed by the excited chatter of people whose voices I had never heard before. One of the voices, in a very authoritarian timbre, began asking me questions.

“What’s your name,” was the first query.

“Ben Dover,” I answered when the light was finally pointed elsewhere.

“Seriously, kid,” the voice pleaded. When I finally regained my vision, I saw that the speaker was a doctor and that I was lying in a hospital room. “I need you to answer the questions without being a smartass. Now, what’s your name?”

“Conner Horne.”

“How old are you?”


“Do you know what day it is?”


“Good. How are you feeling?”

“Except for the fact that my head feels like it’s about ready to explode, and it hurts to breathe, I feel great. What happened?”

The doctor ignored me and continued his examination. I kept trying to get him to talk to me, but he kept pretending that I wasn’t there. When he was finished, he walked out of the room without a word. I saw him get stopped in the doorway by a police officer. They talked for a minute, with the cop gesturing towards me during their talk.

I’m assuming that the policeman was asking if it was ok to talk to me, because once the doctor nodded his head, he walked into my room.  “Conner,” the cop began, “I’m Officer George. You’ve been brought to the hospital because you were assaulted. Do you remember what happened?”

I was going to keep up with being a smartass, but, when I actually tried to think about it, I had trouble remembering what had happened. That, and whatever medication they gave me was starting to kick in. I don’t know what it was, but I liked it a lot. It was starting to make the pounding in my head subside. With the headache easing, I began to start remembering what happened.

“There’s no rush, Conner,” Officer George said, in his ‘everything’s ok’ voice. “What’s the last thing you do remember?”


Whoever made the alarms on fry timers was an asshole. As if working in fast food wasn’t bad enough, you had to put up with the annoying sound of those damn timers going off all day. It’s even worse when, like me, you’re hung over. Last night wasn’t the first time I’d ever been drunk, but it’s the first time I’d ever been drunk enough to have a hangover.

To make things worse, today was Joe’s day to work. I don’t have any big problems with any of the other managers, but I can’t stand Joe. He’s only five years older than me and is already a manager. In his mind, that makes him better than everyone else. He thinks he’s special because he’s a fast food manager at twenty-one. Apparently, he doesn’t realize that, because of this, he talks to everyone as if they’re morons.

“If you don’t get those fries, that alarm is going to keep going off,” he told me, proving my point.

I held up my hand, indicating that I needed a minute. After all, I was trying to concentrate on the order coming in over the speaker at the drive-thru. Joe just rolled his eyes and grabbed the fries himself. The buttons on the register beeped loudly as I inputted the order. Once I had repeated the order, and told the customer their total, Joe once again demanded my attention.

“I told you to get those fries out of the fryer,” he chided.

“I was in the middle of taking an order,” I protested.

“It doesn’t matter. From now on, you do what I tell you.”

In my head, I was telling him how I really felt about him. On the outside, I simply said, “Yeah, ok.”

The rest of the afternoon, I tried to avoid him as much as possible. It didn’t work very well. He spent most of the time finding stupid crap to get on me about. Looking at the clock, I saw that I only had twenty minutes left before it was time for me to clock out. I thought to myself, you can make it another twenty minutes. Just ignore the dumbass.

That’s when it happened.

An older woman walked up to the front counter. Joe immediately stopped his griping at me and went over to her. They talked for a couple of moments before Joe leaned over the counter and gave the woman a quick peck on the cheek. She walked out into the dining room and sat at a table while Joe started gathering up some food.

For some reason, I couldn’t keep my mouth closed. “Isn’t it against the rules to be kissing customers,” I asked him, injecting some attitude.

Joe rolled his eyes as he explained, “That’s my mom, dude.”

I made a show of looking her over. “That’s your mom? Huh….”

He knew I was up to something, so he could’ve just ignored me. He played along anyway. “What?”

“If that’s your mom, I’m surprised you were ever born.”

Joe looked at me with scorn all over his face. “Let me guess: you’re going to say that you’re surprised that I was born because my mom is so ugly that nobody would ever sleep with her? Or that I’m too ugly to come from a woman like that?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. The reason I’m surprised you were ever born has nothing to do with her looks.”


“It has to do with how much she likes to take it up the ass.”

….And that’s the last thing I remember.

A Thank You To All

As you know, Matticus and I just finished up a story in which we saved his Kingdom from sparkly vampires. Along the way, we ran into many of our fellow bloggers. These are all amazing people. Not only did they make the writing process fun, they were also very good sports about the whole thing.

There are a few of our fellow bloggers who we would like to give extra special thanks to:

First and foremost, we’d like to thank Goldfish for agreeing to be our villain. Every good story needs a good villain, and you were the best, my fishy friend.

We’d also like to give thanks to Faithhopechocolate, who took the time to write her own story about the happenings in the Kingdom. Your adventure is a welcome addition to the Kingdom’s legends.

Last in this category, but certainly not least, is another blogger who was awesome enough to play our other big villain: Jaded. You certainly kept us on our toes, my dear.

Next, we’d like to thank all of the bloggers who were gracious enough to take part in our silliness. Our story wouldn’t have been the same without the  33 grams of awesome provided by (in order of appearance):

Finally, we’d like to thank everyone who read our story. A story, no matter how good, is nothing without an audience, and you are the best audience a couple of silly kingdom savers could ask for. We really hope you enjoyed the story and wish for you to come back for our next project, whatever that may be.

Revis and Matticus Save the Kingdom, Chapter 33

Revis Edgewater:

Head on over to the Matticus’ place and check out the finale of our epic tale of Kingdom saving. Don’t worry. I’m sure Revis and Matticus will have more adventures, but this one has come to an end.

Originally posted on The Matticus Kingdom:

Matticus didn’t have time to check on his Knight.  He had to hope that Revis’ cry of pain didn’t mean he’d lost the duel, and didn’t mean that Goldfish would have the energy and mental strength to cast a spell that could repel his attack.

His anger fueled his legs.  The miles that he and Revis had crossed no longer weighed them down.  The atrocities they had witnessed and the battles they’d fought gave him purpose.  The belief that the end of the war, that the kingdom would once again be safe, gave him renewed purpose, and he closed the distance with a speed he hadn’t know he was capable of.

Brandishing his sword, Matticus prepared to strike Goldfish with the flat of the blade.  He was happy to see her eyes go wide with surprise as he began to bring the swing around.  Just before his attacking blow landed…

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