The problem is hotel lobbies either have too much space or the wrong ambiance. I cannot fault management wanting to rent out our meeting room whenever possible, but do they know the type of people who work weekend evenings?
My offspring count is zero. That is why I do not mind dedicating weekends to the almighty dollar. So to keep me wanting to come in, quit booking baby showers. The worse parenting generations make you surrender your entire business to their wee shits. Picking up the phone from the business center once to a toddler is one too many times.
And the use of the shredder from last night's birthday party left me hoping for a "Gremlins 2: The New Batch" accident. At least the legless kid could have a career panhandling outside Wrigley Field. Even the Ricketts cannot kick them out of the Northside. An injury like that maybe worth the clean up.
I am far from godliness on all levels. You give me two basins in a kitchen sink, until one is filled with dishes, I am not doing them. Regardless of my allergies, the dust presence at times would allow you to write a dying message without using any bodily fluids. That is because blood stains, and if I am renting, I am only paying the standard carpet cleaning fee. Intercourse the Rug Doctor.
If it takes elbow grease, I understand not wanting to risk injury. If all you have to do is bend over to pick up some trash or wipe away some crumbs, it is really difficult for me to pity you. Perhaps it is my herniated back, but I have adjusted to bending my knees to go down.
So wrestling promoters, I can still knock out Hindu squats. My cardio will not give you 10 minutes, but what job requires that much work. Pick a gimmick that mocks a group of fans or stereotypes, I am your man. The anonymity with a lucha mask lets you get away with anything. As white nationalist will tell you, "that's what hoods are for."
Should I have put SATIRE ALERT before that last paragraph? Regardless, I am now wondering if we would let Incels get away with their shenanigans if they wore luchador attire with a little flair? That awfulness flies in Peoria, home base of the masked Dixieland Destroyer. Why not a sparkling red mask with swastikas on the sides and a Hitler stache on the front? As long as we kill the character off, it should be featured in my B-movie pro-wrestling zomcom, Main Event of the Dead, I would happy to send you a treatment if you e-mail me at russthebus07@gmail.com.
Do you see now where dirtiness can take a mind? Since my girlfriend is my only known reader (feel free to comment people), she will probably think this is directed at her. And that is why I avoid putting her name down. What other path was I suppose to take this blog? Haven't I written enough about how kids are so goddamn annoying?
Maybe I am just to damn attentive. My writings are about observations, so everything has the potential to get on my nerves. Especially my own messes. Thus, I clean them once I make them for the most part. There is the occasional coffee ground that I miss, but when you have your Keurig sitting inside a foil tub to catch most of those misses, it is obvious that I am trying to limit my trail of food.
Is it so much to ask someone to pay attention to what they're doing? Since my hotel is hosting a baby shower, I suppose not.
This leads me to realize that I need to bring my old journals back from the previous jobs where blogging on the clock was not plausible. Focusing on those old movie reviews and rants is probably safer than writing about how I hope my hotel turns to a children's morgue as I hope parents will be inspired to properly raise their spawn.
It may also let me get into a routine of posting "MFK" blogs between movie reviews. Seems like good promotion, the kind I need for my B-movie pro-wrestling zomcom, Main Event of the Dead, I would happy to send you a treatment if you e-mail me at russthebus07@gmail.com.
"Don't let your babies grow up to be Cubs Fans, and always remember to spay or neuter your White Sox Fans," Russ Stevens
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