What Is That Smell?…

Howdy Ghostfans…

Workplace rant here:

Dear fellow co-workers, clipboard-toting douchebags, and golf cart piloting tools in Khaki…

This letter is for you.

Rules for the bathroom…

Rule #1-  If all of the urinals are full…Lift the mutherf*cking seat before you spray down the entire blasted stall….maybe you should try aiming for the toilet too…dipshits.  If this is not possible, to do some weird physical deformity…THEN SIT THE F*CK DOWN!

(Seriously…the next one we catch pissing about like dog marking territory is getting maced.)
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Rule #2- Stall #3 is mine.  You are no longer permitted to use it….Period…End of Story.

(This means YOU!…Oh, yes…You too!  No one is exempt.)
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Rule #3- Do NOT turn off the fan.  I don’t care if it’s 20 below outside.  You guys smell like the Devil’s taint.  You smell worse than sitting in a VW Microbus packed with Phish fans on the way to their Eleventeenth show in two weeks.

In short…you smell like this:

Quit turning off the damn fan….

On a completely unrelated side note…..The fan is VERY NOISY….so loud one could say…You couldn’t hear a bear snoring because of it’s audio output….So, especially on third shift…(Cough…Crap Nappers…Cough, Cough!!!)…You might want to leave that fan on…just saying…

(Dude…you’re doing it wrong.  Everyone knows a good crap nap requires your pants around your ankles…what if the boss peeks under the stall door?…Dumbass.)
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Rule #4- Quit writing on the damned stall walls.

You aren’t original…or funny.  You just piss everyone off with your horribly misshapen penis and breast doodles.  Furthermore, you wasted company money on all the paint they put on those stall walls.  If you assholes would stop, we might finally be able to convince them to put the damned air hockey table in the break room!

(Your quote about Joe’s mom, Supervisor Bob…or the man from Nantucket…not even this cool.)

(Typical….damned idiots…)

Now, if you are gonna do this sh*t…do it right…like this:

     or this    

Now that’s some talent…and I dare say…ART!
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So in review, Tardlings:

Quit pissing all over everything, Stay the f*ck out of stall three, Leave the fan on you smelly bastards, Drop your pants if you’re gonna fake a crap/take a nap, and quit drawing on the walls unless you’re going for Michaelangelo of the Crap-etorium.

Ghost out…

Get Up and Get After It You Lazy Bastards!!!…

Howdy Ghostfans…

So…Screw waiting for New Year’s Resolutions…Get off your ass and get it done today.

Why?  Here’s why:

(Ghost, why on Earth would a dirty fish eating a dirtier bird require me to get off my ass?)

Well Tardling…this is a FISH.

A…This sumb*tch can’t breathe on land.

2…This sumb*tch has got to catch his lunch and get back into the water before he dies.

D…This sumb*tch isn’t supposed to do this.

Q…I don’t know…

Bottom line…If you’re hungry, pissed off, fed up, disgusted, depressed, lonely (or horny for that matter)…Get up and do something about it. 

(Ghost’s sponsors require that he issue a disclaimer at this point: Try or do something that ISN’T ILLEGAL!  Ghost is no way condones, promotes or advocates violence, collusion, theft, or any other act that could land your ass in prison.)

***WE NOW RETURN YOU TO YOUR IRREGULARLY SCHEDULED GHOST BLOG***

You might have to try something new, and it might feel like you can’t breathe…almost like a fish out of water?

So, get off your ass, and make it happen…or else some other damn fish is going to leap out of the water to steal your man/woman, promotion, etc…

Ghost out…

(150 bonus Ghost dollars for everyone who actually clicked on the fish video and watched it.)

***The Producers of ‘theGhostlife’ would like to take a moment to remind you that Ghost dollars are purely fictitious and are redeemable for nothing of actual real world value…kind of like most college degrees.***

F*ck You, Monday…

Mornin’….hookers…and Good Morning, My Neighbors…

Dark Side and Everto here…and since we’re back on graveyard shift….(cause that’s what happens to your social life when you work thirds…you bury it.)…our motherf*cking Monday is about over.

But for you poor bastards who are about to start your day….F*ck it.  Here we go:

Have a great day at work, hookers!
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Oh, hey…how was your weekend?  Hold on, I have a book for you to read:

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To my co-workers who still aren’t getting the point:

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For my brutha from anotha mutha, Subzero….I can’t believe the same sh*t happened to the same guy…twice….da, da da, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah:

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Yes, yes!  Amen!  Anyone up for all three?…we’re negotiable on the order.
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To those ladies who think they were put here to enhance our lives, just by allowing us to bask in their glory…this one’s for y’all…and your little dog too!

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And in summary….

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Suck it, hookers!

Dark Side and Everto are outta here!

Ghost out…

Adventures in Being a “Single” Dad…

Howdy Ghostfans…

Well, you rotten dirty, perverted scoundrels…Yeah..I missed you too.

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Been busy as of late. Haven’t really had a ton of time for much…work, eat, sleep, repeat. What little free time that I’ve had has been spent with my kids, so dating hasn’t really been even on my radar.

So, Back in May, my oldest finally decided to join the DarkSide…Catching an inbound freshman was easier in some ways than I expected…harder in others.

I thought I’d share a conversation I had with his blessed little heart.

Spectre: I have to remember to pick up a ticket to the Homecoming Dance on Saturday.
Ghost: You going ‘stag’?
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Free Prodigy Vocabulary lesson:
‘Going Stag’:
stag   /stæg/ Spelled [stag]
IPA ,noun, verb, stagged, stag·ging, adjective, adverb
noun
1. an adult male deer.
2. the male of various other animals.
3. a man who attends a social gathering unaccompanied by a woman.
4. Informal . stag party.
5. a swine or bull castrated after maturation of the sex organs.
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DarkSide Unsolicited Comment:
“Dictionary.com…hookers. It’ll make you less f*cking retarded!”
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Spectre: Uhm…I’m going with two girls and meeting a couple more there…so, I guess that I’m going…’Pimp’?

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Ghost: (Laughing) Good one…I like that. So, when did you decide to go?
Spectre: Awhile ago…I told you.
Ghost: No, you didn’t. Wanna know why?
Spectre: I know I told you. Why do you think I didn’t tell you?
Ghost: Correction. I don’t THINK you didn’t tell me…I KNOW you f*cking didn’t tell me…and THIS is why:
1) I started busting your ass about this like 8 weeks ago. If you had asked a girl, you have to make dinner reservations, get flowers, and arrange transportation… since your monkey ass can’t drive.

(Gonna have to wait to take your date like this til next year, kid!)
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2) I have to work this weekend. So I would have to alter my sleep schedule since I’m on thirds.
3) I only forget stupid crap…like married women’s first names, keys in the ignition of cars, and any promise made to get people to leave me alone while I sleep.
Spectre: (Indignant and a ‘tad’ sarcastic) I’m sorry. Well, I guess next time, I’ll shout my plans from the mountaintops…
Ghost: Don’t take that tone with me. I’ll kick your ass. I’ve put in quite a few hours at the shop this week where they’re talking layoffs, I’ve been sleeping like sh*t, and the muscles in my right calf haven’t stopped spasming in 13 days. If you had told my dumb ass, the first question out of my mouth would have been, “What are you wearing?” Have you got dress shoes? A shirt and tie? A belt? Motherf*cking dress pants? Who’s ironing that sh*t?
Spectre: Oh….Yeah…I don’t have anything to wear.

(She might be able to pull this look off, but YOU, my son…cannot.)

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Ghost: It’s Thursday, Jabroni. I have to go to work tonight. Can’t get you clothes tonight. You have a football game Friday, and I’m working til 7am Saturday. Then, you have practice from 8-11am. I’m going to have to stay awake, and help you go get this stuff and get that mop on your head addressed.
Spectre: (Interrupting) Well, compared to all the guys on the team, this is really short…
Ghost: Well, they aren’t my kids, and if their parents don’t care if their kids look like crap and are having sex with anything that moves, that’s their business…You planning on shaving sometime this month by the way?
Spectre: Yesssssssss. Damn, dad.
Ghost: I’ll stop busting your ass, when I believe you’re going to be able to take care of yourself when I’m dead.

(Is that a Ghost Stripper?….Nah, Ghost is done dating those…even in the afterlife…)
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Long story short, We saw my very un-gay hairdressing pal named Timmay and visited Ms. Voodoo’s consignment spot…got this kid some threads, a belt and shoes, and sent his little monkey ass off to the dance…where he seemed to have a good time.

I gotta say this…the little bastard cleans up pretty well.  I was actually sort of impressed when he got all dudded up. 

Sh*t.  There may be hope for this kid yet.

Ghost out…

Google Sez What?…

Howdy Ghostfans…

Recently moved back to third shift…so, my sleep cycles are all f*cked up. I’ll be here for 4-6 weeks, and then I’ll get to move back to first shift to stay.  Hooray, Beer….I mean…promotions…F*ck…I’m tired…

Anyway, for your entertainment, I’m going to type random crap into Google and see what images pop up.  Text messages from friends, crap coworkers say, etc…  Let’s get started:

Ghost: “Working Thirds Sucks!”

(Apparently…this sucks so bad, all the letters can’t fit in the pic…)

This also produced THIS photo from the movie Road Trip:

(“Did you kill a cheetah?”)
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Beast: “I’m going to teabag you til you quit playing and sell your Xbox in shame.”

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Tommy Boy:  “The point is, how do you know the fairy isn’t a crazy glue sniffer? “Building model airplanes” says the little fairy; well, we’re not buying it. He sneaks into your house once, that’s all it takes. The next thing you know, there’s money missing off the dresser, and your daughter’s knocked up. I seen it a hundred times.”

(Figured we’d get this one…from the movie.)

(Unexpected…but actually pretty damn cool!)

(That turf war between the Muppets and the Sesame St posse is gettin’ outta hand!”)
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Subzero: “What’s up, Ghost?”

(Nick Cage is a tool…except for KickAss….Loved that damn movie!)

(Jennifer Love….Amazing Breasts….What?…)
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Spectre: “This mortal form grows weak. It requires sustenance!”

(Given that it’s a movie quote from Thor…not unexpected…)

(Interesting…a shark drinking beer…)

(See that last one tree huggers?…To be close to nature…Urban sprawl is causing people to take up guns and kill poor animals…that and Big Industry causing people to work longer hours…Too much overtime and sitting in sh*tty traffic makes people go kill stuff!!!)
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1Nightstand: “If you want to get promoted, you have to start slacking off.”

(Okay…never wearing sandals to work unless I’m bartending on a beach…)

(Easy button…Wasn’t that one of your ex-girlfriend’s nicknames?)

(Timmy, you need to put your helmet back on!)
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Random chick at the bar: “Who does that b*tch think she is? I mean, look at her. What a slut!”

(Well played, Google…)

(Touche….)

(Is anyone else more turned on than frightened?…Anyone???…)

(What’s the matter, Bats? Oh, I see..you’re only into lying and thieving b*tches like Catwoman.  You aren’t interested in a psychopathic, bipolar, former mental health professional?….)

Hey, Ghost…didn’t you used to date one of those?…No, none were lying/thieving, but crazy…uhh, like every single one of them…who doesn’t like their women a little extra spicy?
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And to wrap this sh*t up…
Machinist Mozart: “Like a Sir.”

(Why, that’s so considerate and well mannered of you!)

Ghost out…

Sh*t Ghost Hears at Work…

Howdy Ghostfans…

Why is that on fire? Why is no one alarmed?

Where in the f*ck did that part go?

Do these f*cking prima donna wire burners know how to scrape weld berries?

Supervisor:  What the f*ck does that say?
Ghost:  Read. A written tag can’t talk. What did they write here? or What is this word?  How does this read?  But that damn tag absolutely ain’t ever gonna ’SAY’ a damn thing.
Supervisor:  Whatever, smartass.  What was that? You’re volunteering for the 5am inventory on Sunday?  That’s great.
Ghost:  Sonuvab*tch.  F*ck me. Gotta learn to keep those comments INSIDE my head.

She’s factory cute.

(DAMN!!!!!!!)

(That’s better….but she’s still an Oompa Loompa.)

What the hell is wrong with these kids today? That one is wearing a teenage girl’s jeans, dyes his hair black and let’s it hang down in front of his eyes, has more metal in his face than we scrape off parts in an 8 hour shift. The second the break whistle sounds they all sit down, and stare slack jawed at their damn iPhones swiping it lazily with one finger.

(THIS is what powers our manufacturing sector these days…no wonder Japan, Korea, Germany, etc… are kicking our ass!)

I don’t know why these old guys b*tch? They all make 5-6 bucks more an hour than we do, they have 5 paid weeks off a year, and can retire and take pensions tomorrow if they wanted.  Why the f*ck are they even still in here, damn?!?!?!?!

You remember that time that Ghost asked that Enginerd if he wanted to actually “build” an engine?  That bastard had that guy lifting those 65 lb cast iron oil coolers and doing his job for about an hour.  THEN, he clowned him the whole time, telling him how soft and weak he was from holding clipboards and pens all day…and the frigging guy AGREED WITH HIM!!!!

Do stupider people exist on the planet? I swear on everything holy that they must be trying to make all the old timers retire by hiring only the dumbest, screw-offs available.  I’m amazed that some of these guys can find their way BACK the next day for work.

Who do I need to get to move these loads out from the highrise storage and over to Quality? We need to check them all for a possible defect.
I dunno.  I’m new.
Okay, I’ll ask that guy.  Who do I need to get to move some material out of those highrises?
You see that fat f*cker down there? That’s Jim.  Talk to him.
(Mind cuts to that Dr. Seuss story, Him. Jim. Jim is after him…I swear my mind wanders to keep me from killing stupid people or just going absolute apesh*t sometimes…)

(That Fat F*cker Jim…You must talk to him!)
You Jim? I need to get some stuff down from there.
Oh, no.  I don’t do that anymore. I quit being team lead because I was sick of that sh*t.  You know Mike?  Over by the wash tank? Go talk to him.
(Turning around, throwing my hands up in the air) What in the F*CK!!!
Forktruck driver stops (used to know my dad) Welcome to my world, kid.
I need some sh*t down from the highrise. Who do I beat to make this happen?
(Grabbing his phone, he calls someone) Cecil will come get it for you. No sweat.
It’s hotter than the devil’s mistress’ crotch, on the hood of a black ’67 Camaro in August in Death Valley in here.  There’s lots of damn sweat…and little patience for the idiots who work here.
Try working here for 40 years kid.
Touche, sir.

(Is this a Ginger reference, or are you talking LITERALLY, Ghost?)

I wish this damn place was air conditioned.
No, you don’t.
You’re smoking crack, Ghost.  Why the hell wouldn’t I want A/C in this place?
Cause now when it gets hot, the Clipboards and Khakis all stay in their offices…in the A/C.  If we had it out here, they’d be out here and up our asses ALL the time.

Who in the hell told you to do that? It could have f*cking exploded! What?  My boss?  Holy Sh*t, nobody in here knows what the f*ck is going on!!!

(Dealing with Wondertards all day, makes dad MAD!!! Get him the pint glass of whiskey with ice, and it will bring him back to NICE!)

Ghost out…

Poor Attendance…

Howdy Ghostfans…

Been dealing with some personal crap here.  Working on some significant blog posts, but I just wanted to drop this quick one to let you know that I’ll be back up and running before too long.

It’s been hot.  I’m sure you know this.

(C’mere Ghost….It’s been about a year since I last got to light your ass up!!!)

Here was a convo I had with my childhood buddy, Curveball:
(Note: I’m in the office and lab now a lot, he is not.)

Curveball: How’s the AC punk?
Ghost: Nice. Really nice. Gonna have to go to third shift for awhile.
Curveball: I wouldn’t mind third right now.
Ghost: I’ve decided that I need a hot girlfriend, good job, no kids…and a pool.
Curveball: She can be okay looking if she has a pool.  She can even have a couple of kids if she lets you bring friends over.
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     +          =     
              This                                                         Her                                         Very Nice!!!
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Ghost: Nice.
Curveball: Just as long as some other sucker is paying his 20%.
Ghost: Well in our state, two kids you pay 25%, and three you pay 30%.
Curveball:  Yeah, I guess you would know.  Hahahaha!!!
Ghost: Yes, sir….I pay…a lot. So, any more conditions on my future girlfriend?
Curveball: Hot, slutty friends?
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(Vodka, check…Kissing on each other…double check…Curveball Approved!)
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Ghost: You’re married.  What good does that do you?
Curveball: Married, yes.  Dead, no.  They are just fun to be around/look at.
Ghost: Fair enough.  Get the engine primed for you, to go home and unleash on the wife?
Curveball: Yep.
Ghost: Sounds like some wisdom that your dad might share with us.
Curveball:  My dad and wisdom don’t belong in the same sentence.

Ghost:  Leathernutz tells me I need to go out and just be a dirty manwhore.  Stop worrying about finding a good one…just have lots of ones that MIGHT be good…or just a little bad.  Any opinions?
Curveball:  I’d whore it up.
Ghost:  You guys kill me. My buddy Subzero tells me to go be bad, so he can live vicariously through me.
Curveball: You better do it while you can. 40+ year old men don’t need to be in the clubs.
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(Like this guy!!!)
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Ghost:  Then I’ve got to buy a boat or a bar…then it isn’t creepy.
    or this    
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Curveball:  Either one of those would be cool.  There is a lot of upkeep on both.
Ghost:  Less likely to drown in the bar…or scare people off with my ridiculously white ass.

(Hey, Pale can be attractive….well…maybe Scarlett can be pale and hot….)

Later hookers…

Ghost out…

Friday the 13th, July 2012…

Howdy Ghostfans…

So this coworker of mine asks, “Aren’t you superstitious?”

Bahahahahahahaha!!!!  My reply, “Sh*t, my family’s luck is so bad 365 days a year, you’re trying to tell me that it could possibly get worse today?”

He was speechless.  Nope. I’ll bust a mirror, sitting under a ladder, while spilling salt and kicking a black cat’s ass.

(Didn’t bust a mirror this last time I moved in December.  First time in a long time that that didn’t happen.)

(Still not figuring out what the big deal is with this?)

(Ms. Voodoo…your pal is out causing trouble again..)

Oh well…I guess for some people Superstition is their religion…as for me…well…

I prefer to choke an ignorant sumb*tch who crosses me…let those black cats and ladders take care of themselves.

Who’s next?

Ghost out…

It’s Wednesday!..Whoop-de-Effing-doo…

Howdy Ghost fans…

I’m in a right foul mood.  It’s been awhile, but I’m beyond a little pissy.  It was hotter than hell last week.  At work the other night, a guy ran across the aisle and put a cup of ice water on the top of a fork truck….the driver saw it before he drove off, so no luck with the pranks, but the hotter it gets around here, the more these guys will try to entertain themselves at someone else’s expense.

With the break in the heat, I’m feeling a little less like roadkill today.  I don’t think that’s what is causing the rising tide of internal rage.  I’ve got a pretty good idea what’s up, but I’m going to have to be an adult and deal.

(Remember when throwing on some superhero underoos could make your day?  I wonder if they make them in man sizes?)

(Apparently, they’re making them in hottie sizes! Damn!!!)

And no, to that friend of mine who suggested that it had just been too long since I had gotten laid….it’s not that…(although it has been awhile for that as well.)

I almost wish I were like a mood ring with my “condition”.  Like I’d start to turn dark blue the worse that the Myasthenia Gravis was affecting me.  Then the people around me would know when to start backing the f*ck off.  The other great benefit to this would be as I started to look like a pissed off giant smurf, those people who question whether anything is wrong would f*cking get a clue.

(Ghost SMASH!!!!….then take really long nap…cause he gets very tired…very fast…MG sucks!)

Yeah, it’s been suggested that I’m bucking for sympathy or playing it up….if anything, I hide when it’s bothering me…I also detest being treated any differently, so I’ve just been gutting it out, finding ways to cope.  Mowed the grass and hung some blinds before work today.  My forearms and hands feel like painful stone blocks right now. The muscle spasms started in my left tricep and calf almost immediately after mowing when I sat down.  Ever hear of someone’s arms getting tired just typing 200 words?  From my fingertips to my biceps, I can feel every muscle as I force my fingers to extend out and hit each and every key….I can almost feel a tired “pull” up through my right bicep and up into my left shoulder a bit.  It’s fun…in that not very cool way.

Oh well.  F*ck MG, and f*ck those people. 

I had the LDoC Father’s day weekend, and I got this Halestorm covers CD at their show last winter.  Apparently, Axl Rose granted them permission to print a certain number, and the band thought they could reprint more, and his people refused to allow them to print more.  If you can find one, grab it.  It has a Skid Row, Lady Gaga, Temple of the Dog, Guns ‘N Roses, Heart and The Beatles.  Well, I play the first track, and ask my daughter if she knows who this is, and she screams, “Lizzy!!!!!!”.  She’s going into first grade, and we haven’t covered the whole, sometimes rock stars spell their names funny phenomenon.  So, LZZY, you definitely have a little new fan.

If you get the chance to see Halestorm, do it…LZZY is a tiny little thing, but she can wail.  Their drummer is a gag too.  He damn near juggles his drumsticks while playing….it’s pretty impressive.  Got to meet them after the show, and they’re legitimately nice people too.

(To their mother, I filter the content…we don’t listen to any questionable songs…no swears.  I promise.)

Anyway, been slacking this week.  Finally made the jump to the other building at work, but I have to be up for work at 5am…instead of my usual NOON wake up alarm….getting adjusted to the new schedule….I should get it down just in time to move to third shift!  F#$%$#%$# AWESOME!!!!!

It’s a good job, and I’m thankful….but a regular sleep schedule would be nice.

Anyway, I’m working on a couple pieces…might have one for you Friday.

Later, hookers.  To my buddy, VF, Ghost has a present for you the next time he sees you.

Til then…

I’m Ghost, and I’m out of here…

GBF…Say Hello to Nezza…

Ok…I live in Midwestern hell….the weather sucks here for completely varying reasons day to day.  Try to look at this chica’s blog for what it is….an adventure…not a reminder of how ordinarily sucky your life is….because you live near the Ghost….

How about that HOT breeze this afternoon?  The heat and humidity have even made fans useless today.

Featured Blogger Nezza in the house….I’m still waiting for some pics from the Boom Boom Room, Nezza…just saying…

Changes.