Surreptitious Psychosis
A Peek In My Head...

Putting the "fun" in disfunctional since 1978!

Name: Aza
From: Florida, United States

I reject your reality and substitute my own

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IM: Surreptitious_Psychosis (yahoo)

The Other Day I Said...

*tap, tap, tap*

Pass the Depends please…

Dinner for 10 (small villages)...

Wow, I really needed that!

Hell hath no fury like an Aza scorned!

And you thought you had it rough!

Who turned on the cool?

Thanks for nothing Fay! And an open letter to a sc...

A sad day for comedy indeed

Another post about ta-ta's

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    Wednesday, April 25, 2007

    What the fuck ever!

    So I got my performance review back at work. For those of you who don’t know what that is- it’s a yearly assult upon your emotional anus review they make you perform on yourself. Basically you have to tell them how retarded you think you are and how much you think you suck at your job. Then they come back over what you wrote and review the review. I gotta tell ya, it’s one hell of a motivation builder!

    I was off work that day but I made a special trip to the pharmacy to get it. I didn’t want to get it back while I was on the clock and have a giant panic attack in front of God and everybody because my superiors agree that I suck. That pretty much sums up my review of myself “I Aza, suck at my job and am a total retard. However, if there is one redeeming quality about me that should prevent my immediate dismissal it is that I make my coworkers and patients laugh. The end.”

    It wasn’t what I expected at all. I walked in totally prepared to have my ass handed to me and received quite the opposite. I was told I have excellent patient/coworker relations (LOL!!!) and make the pharmacy a fun place to work. I’m skilled well beyond my pay grade and level of experience (ie, time on the job) and I’m an excellent trainer. I was all like “Yeah man, I rock!”.

    So I asked my senior Rph what improvements needed to be made- he said I need to start taking on senior tech responsibilities. My response “Look, I’m state certified isn’t that enough? I mean really! If I’m not going to be paid as a senior tech why should I have to perform the responsibilities (which I do anyway)?” He also said (and I quote) “This isn’t just for you but we need to watch the use of profanity.”

    What? Excuse me? Would you care to repeat that for me? I don’t think I heard you correctly.

    I NEVER curse in front of patients or my Rph’s. EVER! It’s Princess, Military Wife and The 20 Year Old Boss that sound like fucking sailors! It’s fuck this and fuck that and fuck him and fuck her and fuck the fucking fuckers. That’s all I hear all day! Me? I go out of my fucking way not to curse at work (that’s what my fucking blog is for!). I use terms like the following; “Crum” or "Crud" instead of “Crap“, “Shnike” or "Poopie" instead of “Shit”, “God Bless America” instead of “Goddamnit!”, “Rats Rectum” instead of “Rats Ass”, “Son Of A Biscuit Eater” instead of “Son Of A Bitch”, “Fudge” or “Freak” instead of “Fuck”, you get the point. I guess he saw the total look of shock and surprise that hit my face like a brick- a look that said “What the fuck did you just say to me!?” because he looked back at me as if to say “Hey I know I shouldn’t even be mentioning this to you but I don’t want those sorry fuckers to feel singled out and picked on”. I looked at him as if to say “Fuck them! They should be singled out because they are the ones that do it and no, you shouldn’t be mentioning this to me.” What’d I do? I kept my mouth shut and didn't argue. Our conversation held within looks said everything that needed to be said.

    Anyway, I got an awesome review. How’d my coworkers do? Fucked if I care, I rock!



    Saturday, April 21, 2007

    Dumb but funny observations

    I found this in a forwarded mail- I would give credit where credit is due but I don't remember who sent it to me. Usually I hate forwards as expressed here and I wish the sender cursed to eternal damnation... but yeah this one I kind of like...

    *1.* People who point at their wrist while asking for the time.... I know where my watch is pal, where the hell is yours? Do I point at my crotch when I ask where the toilet is?

    *2* People who are willing to get off their ass to search the entire room for the T.V. remote because they refuse to walk to the T.V. and change the channel manually.

    *3* When people say "Oh you just want to have your cake and eat it too". Damn right! What good is cake if you can't eat it?

    *4* When people say "it's always the last place you look". Of course it is. Why the hell would you keep looking after you've found it? Do people do this? Who and where are they? Gonna Kick their asses!

    *5* When people say while watching a film "did you see that?". No Loser, I paid $12 to come to the cinema and stare at the damn floor.

    *6* People who ask "Can I ask you a question?".... Didn't really give me a choice there, did ya sunshine?

    *7.* When something is 'new and improved!' Which is it? If it's new, then there has never been anything before it. If it's an improvement, then there must have been something before it, couldn't be new.

    *8* When people say "life is short". What the hell?? Life is the longest damn thing anyone ever does!! What can you do that's longer?

    *9* When you are waiting for the bus and someone asks "Has the bus come yet?". If the bus came would I be standing here, dumbass?



    Thursday, April 19, 2007

    I fell off the wagon at a party and started a bar fight all in less than a week...

    So I gave the Marlboro Man a lap dance. Yep I smoked a couple cigarettes at a party last weekend. They were the first cigarettes I’ve smoked since January 4th. I’ve been asked “So Aza did they taste like shit?” my response- “Actually, I think my mouth had an orgasm”. Yep, they were good, really good. I was surprised the day after when I had no desire to go out and buy a pack. Yeah, I still crave- I’ve had cravings since January 4th but the cravings were no more intense after the party than they were three months ago. Am I going to beat myself up about it…nope. Sure, I can hear it now “But Aza, you beat yourself up about everything you do- how could you not beat yourself up about it?” All I can say to that is, “Smoking a couple cigarettes is probably one of the least sinful, humiliating, bad, naughty and/or stupid things I did that night.*

    As for the bar fight….have you ever gone to a bar and seen someone who had “Please fuck with me” written all over their face? Yeah, a few nights ago while sitting at the bar with D and some friends it happened. There I am, minding my own damn business enjoying the company when "it" stumbles up to the bar and begins to annoy the holy shit out of everyone. Long story short, as soon as I laid eyes on “skanky hooker chick” who had “Please fuck with me” written on her forehead, I obliged. I mean what was I supposed to do? A drunk skank is falling all over the bar begging me to ruin her night. I was up for some fun and ready to add a little spice to the evening. Plus, nothing quite says to your friends “Hey, thanks for inviting us out!” like starting shit with a bar hoe.

    So blah, blah, blah- I screwed with her sister, her sister’s boyfriend, her boyfriend and her. I got a little in fighting going between them then set in to my objective- getting that nasty bitch tossed from the bar. The conclusion consisted of me acting mad at her boyfriend for hitting on me to royally piss her off which in turn would cause her to shoot her mouth off getting her tossed. Therefore I dubbed my mission: “Skank Eject”.

    I stand before you today and hereby declare my mission: Accomplished!

    Here’s a tip for all you bar patrons out there…Don’t go to the bar/club, get shit faced, show your ass and NOT expect someone like me to come along and wreak your evening. I target stupid people (it’s a hobby) and dedicate as much time to screwing with them as possible.

    Oh and if you’re thinking of inviting me to a party- Please don’t encourage my nasty (EX) smoking habit (regardless of how persuasive my begging is) and fully expect me to end up naked in your neighbors swimming pool. Not because I’m drunk- but because I’m not right in the head and I‘ll do damn near anything to amuse myself.

    I think I’m beginning to epitomize the term “White Trash” (or "psychotic"- the jury is still out on that one).

    (* or wanted (wink, wink) to do that night!!!)

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    Friday, April 13, 2007

    An open letter to a dickhole

    Dear **dickhole *cop,

    Do you think D is stupid? I mean, he may come off as a total ding-bat but trust me he’s way smarter than he looks. Which leads me to… he knows he didn’t get that ticket this morning because he left his keys in the car at the donut shop. He got that ticket because he got in your fucking douche bag way. Here’s how his morning routine works.

    1- He gets up after I kick the shit out of him right around the 300th time the snooze alarm goes off.
    2- He bathes, dresses and gets ready for work.
    3- He warms up the decrepit piece of shit we lovingly call “the second car” (I usually refer to it as the “Flintstone mobile”).

    ~Addendum Numero Uno~
    D’s car is a 1990 Ford Escort Hatchback (yes, you read that right). Its paint is peeling, it has been through a tornado- seriously, it has over a zillion miles on it, it runs on prayer and is in general every goddamn car thieves wet dream. I know those sonsofbitches take one look at this car and get a little hard with envy.

    4- He drives directly to Dunkin’ Donuts to get his morning barrel of piping hot Joe infused with extra cream, 10 pounds of sugar and a near lethal dose of caffeine.
    5- He proceeds to drive across the city to work.

    Now, after reading the above process I’m sure you see where you fit in and fucked up D‘s morning routine. That’s right! Between steps 4 and 5. So here’s how I’m assuming YOUR morning starts off …

    1- You get up, look in the mirror and see a giant douche bag staring back at you.
    2- You ram insert a fresh corncob up your ass with vigor and pride.
    3- You go to work in a very bad mood because women flee and or laugh at the sight/thought of your penis.
    4- You take your bad mood out on the first person you see in the form of a ticket for the most retarded fucking thing you can think of.
    5- Immediately thereafter you jack off (hard) to your ability to be the biggest prick best cop in town by keeping our streets safe from vicious, dangerous, predators….you know, all those sorry assholes who leave their keys in their piece of shit jalopies! After all, they are such a danger to society!

    ~Addendum Numero Dos~
    I don’t feel addendum numero uno got this through clearly- I just really can’t stress the following points enough: A- It’s a Flintstone Mobile NOT a fucking Maserati. B- The vehicle was not left unattended running C- It was parked 10 feet away from its owner D- No children and or animals were left unattended and strapped in the backseat. E- If someone stole that sorry piece, they’d be doing us a favor. And F-The coffee shop knows what time D comes through and has the coffee ready the way he likes it. He runs in throws the money on the counter and runs out.

    So lets be honest with each other- it wasn’t the keys in the car that got D that 75 dollar ticket making him late for work and putting him in a shitty mood that I‘m going to have to deal with. It wasn’t the corncob that’s shoved so far up your ass you’re constantly picking kernels out of your molars. You were pissed that D got in your way by parking at the front door, in your space and you got even more mad when he laughed at you. Plain, simple and best of all- honest. When you snarled at him “What are you laughing at?” did you bother to notice how nervous he was? Wringing his hands, shuffling his feet- he laughed because he was nervous you dumb fuck. And the sad thing is, it doesn’t take a fucking degree in body language to observe and conclude that.

    Hold your head high today fucktard because when we go to court and I show the judge the car you ticketed for the keys being left in it and HE starts laughing- I guarantee, it won’t be nervous laughter. He’s going to look at you like the idiot asswipe that you are and he’s going to think the same thing we all thought- “You really are pathetic to ticket someone simply because they got in between you and your steaming hot cup of Joe and freshly baked Boston Cream.”

    Sure, I’ll pay the $75 bucks because D is such a danger to society. Heh, 75 dollars, that’ll teach him!

    Enclosed is a picture I took especially for you. Now I know they say a picture is worth a thousand words but I think this one pretty much sums it up in two…enjoy…


    Saddened By What A Huge Douche Bag You Are.

    **This dickhole is a true minority in my city. 99% of our police force consist of really great men and women (3 of which read my blog so they’re even cooler) just doing their job.**

    *And to the cops who read my blog, please don’t take my rant personal. I certainly don’t mean to cast an ugly light down on everyone- just the one idiot who I’m sure even pisses his coworkers off.*

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    Sunday, April 08, 2007

    Easter- that’s a novel idea!

    So hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of years ago today the Father of Christianity arose from the grave and ascended to the heavens alone without holding a major grudge against humanity for their insolence.

    And hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of years later- today I arose from bed and ascended to the laundry mat alone holding dirty drawers and a major grudge against humanity for my current circumstances.

    See the similarities?

    Take it easy now…I can already hear the peanut gallery shouting “Blasphemy !!!” from the very tops of their soap box pulpits. Before jumping to conclusions and resorting to name calling (or crucifixion) lets take a closer look at how the world spins shall we? My above rant, when really read says “I’m so tired of spending the holidays alone”. It’s a pity party- plain, simple. It’s about me, not the holiday.

    But we can’t have the peanut gallery shouting “Blasphemy” for nothing now can we? So I’ll give you honest blasphemy.

    A couple thousand years ago a man was hung from a cross to die a slow and agonizing death. And for what? An idea. A concept. A way of life that was meant to end all wars and unite all peoples. A gentle thought process that would later be so twisted by world leaders- devotion (or lack of devotion) to it would start tremendous wars. Millions upon millions would die. Which is exactly what that man on that cross was there trying to avoid. Sounds blasphemous to me.

    And how is appreciation for that horror expressed? By marrying it somewhere along the line. A truly beautiful Pagan holiday known as Ostara was tossed into the mix by high officials in an attempt to force conversion. Forced conversion. Heh, sounds stupid doesn’t it? Forcing people to convert to a gentle and kind thought process and lifestyle when they’ve already found one. So now we’ve got the crucifixion/resurrection and Ostara all mixed up together. The result? A nifty little holiday called Easter! We wake to baskets filled with chocolate depictions of rabbits nested in fake grass, go to church to watch the sunrise- symbolic of Christ rising from his tomb, come home to hunt hard boiled and dyed eggs in our backyards- symbolic of fertility and spring and then finalize the celebration by sacrificing a pig errr, I mean, dining upon spiral sliced honey baked ham!- symbolic of the last supper. (isn‘t there something in the Bible about eating animals with cloven hooves?)

    So now the question that begs to be asked…Are we doing proper justice to and respectfully honoring both holidays by allowing them to converge in upon one another or during that convergence have we lost the true meaning and beauty in both?

    If we’re dealing in spiritual principals rather than dogmatic particulars- I’d like to think we’re getting the best of both.

    So, Happy Day to you…I’ve got laundry to do.



    Friday, April 06, 2007

    How’s that for honesty?

    So as most of you know I’m in therapy and for those of you who didn’t- I’m sure it was a ginormous shock. Anyway, a snippet from this past weeks session...

    Me: *sigh* I’m just so not interested, ya know? I need some serious motivation.

    Whore-Hey: What are you not interested in?

    Me: What AM I interested in?

    Whore-Hey: Try to give me an example.

    Me: well, like I should probably go back to the gym. I mean, I’m paying a monthly membership and all.

    Whore-Hey: You don’t want to lose weight?

    Me: What the hell is that supposed to mean?

    Whore-Hey: No, no, no! What I meant was is weight loss one of your goals? Because you really don’t look like you need to lose any weight.

    Me: Shut up.

    Whore-Hey: Really now Aza.

    Me: No, not to lose weight just to tone up and do some cardio. Now that I’m a nonsmoker I think I should do some cardio. Which brings me back full circle to my original point.

    Whore-Hey: Which isn’t that your not interested it’s just that you aren’t motivated, right?

    Me: Yeah, I’m not motivated. I already said that.

    Whore-Hey: Okay

    Me: Okay, so, I’m not paying you to stare at me and repeat what I say, motivate me to get back in the gym!

    Whore-Hey: Your butt is getting big.

    Me: *sigh* that was $50.00 well spent. You do realize that I’ve seriously injured people for saying things way less offensive to me than that, right?

    Me (as I'm getting up to walk out): Oh and BTW, I know how much you hate it when we’re in the last 3 minutes of therapy and I drop a bomb in your lap but remind me to tell you next session about- My new tattoo, the dream where I bit D’s nose off, the dream about my grandparents that ended in me waking to a massive panic attack, the fight I got into with my dad, how much I hate your freaking socks and my sleep eating….m’kay?

    Whore-Hey: Jesus Aza, I hate it when you do that!

    Me: *grinning* Heh, yeah, me and my big butt know. Have a nice day, asshat.