Zach Hates You

I hate fat people. I hate the people that go to the club I work at. I hate fat people that go to my club that decide they can do whatever they want and my opinion means nothing because I’m white.

Tonight this giant heffer decided to pull the race card on me. “Don’t touch me white boy. I make more money then you. You stupid white boy shouldn’t be working at no black person’s club. You don’t know shit white boy.” I can’t remember it all, I am a dumb white boy.

Maybe me telling her how she was being racist hurt my feelings and was mean. What didn’t help was how I was waving at her as she was being forced out by a coworker, or when I blew her a kiss and said that she’ll be missed by all the nice people that can still come to the club.

I made that bitch so furious though. I said I was sorry to my boss for egging her on, but I’m not. Not even a little. I was laughing so hard by the time I walked away there were tears in my eyes. I’m sure that wasn’t helping matters either but it made my god damn night.

Note to self: dig out camera so I can start posting these morons here.

Hookers

Dear whores,

You’re not cute or even good looking. I wouldn’t fist you with a friend’s arm. Unfortunately I was downstairs while this was taking place not 30 feet away with no idea this was happening. I don’t care how much I hate my bike, it’s not yours to touch. If you asked me I wouldn’t have let you use it. On top of everything else, it’s not even a good looking bike. It’s beat to hell. Just like you will be if you touch my bike again.

Hope you get cancer of the twat,

Me

Guess what’s not funny?  Acting like you’re going to hit me with your cage while I’m riding my bike.  I don’t know who the fuck you think you are doing that and I’m sure I’ll never see you again, but for the fun of writing, here’s to you fuckstick.

I’ve been in a foul fucking mood all god damn day.  I’ve been wanting an SV ever since I’ve had that amazing 1000 slip through my grasp a few months ago.  I missed it by a day.  The same thing happened again today.  I really wanted a bike that I could afford and enjoy over the clunky ass 750 that I look forward to selling.  My roomy pissed me off at dinner over nothing.  No idea what it was that upset me, but I was livid so I went out for a jog trying to clear my mind and let it all go.  Shame I can’t do that.  My earbuds kept slipping out of my ears while I ran and anything that annoys me while I run is a big deal .  I almost ripped my phone out of my pocket to toss it in front of me so I could slam my foot down on those shitty fucking ear buds.  In the long run I know I would have fucked myself by doing that.  I got back to my house and took a shower.  Still not calm.  So I take off thinking that I can hang out with my friends and it’ll be a good night.  Not so much.  I got more and more irritated the longer I hung out.  I’m not blaming them since it seems like one of my “I hate the world” weeks is beginning.  So I leave in a huff and warm my bike up.  Sure, the way I take to get off Alaskan Way is not legal.  If the city took out that retarded cable car hut that hasn’t been used in years it probably would be.

And here’s where you come in you stupid motherfucker:

There is no way you were there without speeding up.  You didn’t honk or flash your lights.  Pulling up to where I was heading was a fuckstick move.  You are a fuckstick.

I carry a very sexy high capacity pistol.

I have really nasty metal knuckled gloves on.

I wouldn’t have thought about the gun on my hip until after I punched through your window to pull you out, beat you into unconsciousness, and thrown your keys into Puget Sound.  At that point I would have riddled your engine with a large amount of holes.

Maybe, just maybe if I knew there would be no consequences to my actions I would do this.  In the real world though, I would be locked in a little room for a long time with bad food with nothing else to do but work out and watch TV with a large amount of people that are more pissed off and violent then me.

That doesn’t sound fun.  There are no motorcycles in jail and I don’t like being stuck with people I can’t get away from.

Yes, you’re cute flashing your lights at me.  You’re tough.  What you did was soooooo funny.

You have no fucking idea who I am and you never will.

One of my biggest pet peeves is leaving a DVD player on to where it goes to the menu and it plays the same music loop over and over and over and over.  It use to happened to me with my drunkard room mates that would pass out watching a movie when I was in Korea.  Just a little bit away from me it’s happening again.

Today has not been a good day.  Boo fucking hoo.

I finally joined Facebook.  After many people asking me to make a page I did.  I did have some issues setting it up though.  Issues like USING MY REAL FUCKING NAME.  There’s only 2 places I have my real name: 1. my “official” email for work and 2. my bank.  I hate having my real name on the internets.  Sure, being stalked sounds like a great idea.  Maybe I’ll put my home address as well.  Hell, I had my AIM screen name on Myspace at one point. No good came of that.  Some fat chick kept sending me messages.  A FAT CHICK (by the way, I’m not to keen on fatties either.) !

Now, I’m not scared of stalkers.  Maybe because it’s the fact I have a penis and no one wants to stalk me unless they want my babies (it’s happened).  I just don’t want anyone snooping in on me.  Guess what assclowns?  Employers check those sites.  Shit, I know I looked when I looked for roomies on craigslist.  That was fun!  I wish I saved some of those emails.  There’s some serious fucked up people on the internets if you haven’t noticed.

Back to the point: Fuck you Facebook and wanting my real name.  And fuck your filters too.  Not allowing to have my name the same as my website.  What’s wrong with the word “hate” anyway?  Maybe hate gets a bad rap.  Maybe with this website I can make hating a positive thing.  Oh…no I don’t want to do that.  I just want to set things (people are things) on fire.

I don’t want to make a profile.  Let’s see what about me?  I donno, I’m fucking awesome.  My mommy said so one time.  Her words not mine.

So my name on Facebook is “Zach Highly Dislikes You”  Splendid!  That is totally the same as “hate.”  Thanks Facebook you god damn social networking whore.

Shut your god damn face. You’re whiny, high pitched voice reminds me of Jack “Douchebag” Johnson.

Jack Johnson is a douchebag. Say it. Jack Johnson is a douchebag. Douchebag douchbag douchebag. While climbing at Stone Gardens, his cover of Tom Petty’s “Freefalling” came on. It was terrible.

I

HATE

IT.

Fucking lameass, annoying, whiny, bitch. You’re a god damn pussy and you make a retarded amount of money off your stupid songs. At least it took me time to hate Dave Grohl and Eddie Vedder. With you it was right away. STFU KTHXBAI

Without all you morons that consist of my bars clientele on Saturday nights. You people are the most stupid, ignorant dbags it’s amazing that you somehow function in day to day life. I’m sure none of you hold any job or position that benefits your fellow human beings to warrant your existence here on this planet.

Do me a favor: STOP FUCKING BREATHING. Really.  It will solve a lot of the worlds problems.

Yeah, it’s a couple of days after Patty’s but whatever.  Holidays that are for nothing but drinking and being drunk are retarded.  Let’s drink so we can’t walk! Woooooooo! Idiots.

Honestly, I was really surprised how well the night went all in all.  I didn’t kick anyone out until early evening and even that was pretty easy.  The only hands on customer service I provided was when the bar was closed.  The bar was closed, the night was over and I was about to head home on my merry way when some older dbag was slipping off into dreamland on the bar.  I had already threw on all of my bike jacket, FiveseveN, and bag while almost out the door.  Almost.   The first bartender shakes him a little bit to no success.  So I give it a go.  Now, I was having a pretty good night.  Next to no problems, small amounts of vomit, and I even had a really cute chick assault me with a couple of kisses and now, this dude.  So I attempt to rouse the man that over indulged very nice like instead of my normal “get the fuck out you fucking fuck” ways.

Z: Hey buddy, time to wake up the bars closed. <Light shaking on shoulder>

Drunky: <Shrugs my arm off> No I’m staying here.

Z: Bud, you didn’t hear me, bars closed.  No more drinks, everyone’s gone.  It’s time to mosey out the door.

D: NO! I’m staying here! Iknowmoney.

Z: Huh? You no money? <Looks at bartenders>

Bartender: Nah man, he’s paid up. <Waves towards the stumbly and then the door>

Z: Partner, you’re good to go, it’s time to roll.

D: NO! I KNOW MONEY AND I’LL CALL THEM UP! I’m staying here.

Z: You…know…money…(light bulb! I don’t speak drunk all the time.)

Bar owner: Sir, it’s time to leave.  You’re on private property and need to leave now.

D: Fuck you <Pointing at me> and fuck you too you bitch! <Points are the bar owner>.

Now, I haven’t worked at this bar for almost a year before the weekend.  I really liked the bar.  It never got to bad, money was good, the staff was super nice and the owner was one of the best bosses I have ever worked for.  And this dude just got hostile at her.  This is when everyone that was staff or a regular flipped.  I dropped my bag and grabbed the dude.  He of course wigs out at this point.  I’ll give the moron credit, he had some sort of drunk strength going on and he really didn’t want to leave.  Putting up a fight against me just upsets me more.  Also, I had some very large co-workers right next to me.  The guy attempts to swing on me and I laugh.  I’m wearing my motorcycle jacket and he’s well wrapped up by myself and another huge security guy.  I get him spun around and get a decent rear naked choke on the guy.

I loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooove the RNC.  I can toss people around with it, walk them anywhere I want, and make them pass out if I need to pretty easy with it.  It lets me control the person without having to do any permanent harm.  Also, I love that gurgly noise people make when they are being choked, but still get juuuuuust enough space to suck a bit of air.  Good times!

So I have him at this point.   He’s not going anywhere.  I didn’t have the greatest choke on him due to my leathers, but it’s enough of one for a drunk ass in his late 40s not to do anything.  I walk him out and have a nice discussion with him.  I told him that he was going to walk away when I let him go.  If he turned around after I let him go, I would put him on the ground in a not nice way.  It was going to be very painful for him.  I made it very clear and made him repeat what I had told him before nicely letting him go.  Well big surprise he decided to turn around.  So I started to walk towards him and used my loud person voice.  He promptly turned around and walked just a few more steps before turning around again.

I had this handled pretty easy, but because of the mellow night, everyone wanted to jump in.  I wasn’t really pissed with this dude, but I wanted to rile him up a wee more. He decided to run his mouth, I had to take a couple of verbal swings at him.

Z: Hey dumbass! All that money that you keep talking about isn’t going to keep you from getting your ass stomped right now.

For a moment, I really think that did the trick of getting through his thick skull that this was not a situation he was going to win.  He looks like he’s going to bolt and starts screaming again.  I know money, blah blah blah.

BLAH BLAH BLAAAAAAAAH

Fuck you and you’re fucking money dude.  You’re an old moron that had too much at the bar and didn’t want to leave.  That money that you know?  That guy doesn’t give a shit about at 2:20 in the morning.  I wasn’t really going to kick your ass but the other 10 people that were there really, really wanted to.  I almost let them.  It was tempting, but I really wanted to go home. So congratulations! You’re a giant assclown that no one wanted to leave the bar with.  You didn’t have any friends to help get you home, or a nice lady to get you to stumble into a cab.  Have fun being some supposedly rich dudes bitch.

People.  I really hate people.  Like I said, I was having a decent night.  You put a small damper on it.

But hearing you gurgle made up for it.  I can’t lie about that :]  I almost decided to take your glasses and make them a souvenir for the night, but tossing them provided a giggle.

Dear fat chick that grabbed my beard in a really bad attempt to hit on me,

You’re fat and annoying. So when the first attempt didn’t work, try try again huh? Why did you think pulling on my facial hair was going to win me over? I haven’t worked at that bar in a year. I have a reputation of actually throwing girls out (yeah, it’s sorta true) and yet, still you persist. Saying “you really hate this” as I pull away from you might give you the hint that you are correct. Here’s some advice to make you more attractive: lose 20 pounds or so and stop being stupid. I know, both of those are probably not going to happen, but if they did I still wouldn’t want anything to do with you.

<3

Me

Due to the fact that I ride my motorcycles more then I use my car, I’ve had to become picky with gas stations. The reason behind this is the gas pumps. In a car, you shove the nozzle into your tank and walk away. Bike have smaller tanks and that god damn “safety” device that only pumps gas if it is pressed down is a real bitch. If I’m stuck refilling at a station with one of these pain in my ass devices I can usally manage. This was not the case today refilling my GS750 (which I also hate). I actually gave up after filling up 2 gallons of gas. The pressure of the gas coming out made it impossible for me to fill my tank without getting gas everywhere. Total bullshit. So I hate you gas station. I hate that pump. It’s my gas and I’ll put it wherever I want.