I have met this person. She constantly tells everyone around her how pretty she is. And she is convinced that she is god's gift to men, and all women want to be her. She has no concept of military bearing, rank structure, or even that she is no longer in high school, and cant go home when she feels like it. Like the other day, when she got bored in the middle of an evolution and wanted to go inside the shop while we were all out on the plane, working.
She sits in the shop if she gets the chance, and will bitch and moan if she has to do work of any kind. She is the least senior of all of the people in the squadron, much less the shop, and expects the same sort of treatment a senior enlisted merits. She absolutely hates taking orders from anyone who is female, and only marginally less from male members. She is on her cell phone constantly, which is not a good idea for a couple of reason. A- she is in the military, at work. B- she is in the presence of CADs, thousands of pounds of duel, radar, and fine electronics. C- she has destroyed at least 2 of those $300 Razrs, or whatever they are, by throwing them against the walls when she gets mad. I might add that she throws temper tantrums like a little child too, complete with stamping her feet.
She hates the fact that she is on the same shift with me, simply because I am the same gender as she is. She constantly digs at me about how unfeminine I am (I could give a shit, really) and how I keep my hair cropped short (I'm not out to impress anyone) and I wear baggy clothes (for comfort).
In Naval instruction, it is against the rules to wear white t-shirts as outer clothing, tank tops with spaghetti straps, and belly shirts anywhere, but it is only really enforced onbase. She couldnt understand why she got in trouble for wearing a white spaghetti strap belly shirt, complete with tongue ring and too much makeup in to work.
She also gets made when she gets catcalls when she leaves the barracks for a night of partying, when she is wearing a miniskirt, stilletos, skimpy halter top of some kind, and so much makeup that it would make Mimi wince.
And now, for the entertainment portion, these are some real quotes from the abyss that might once have contained her brain, verbatim.
"I rely on my looks to get me through life."
"Isnt is funny how all the guys in the squadron want me, but I just want you, (name removed to protect the innocent)"
"I cant go to a party unless my boyfriend comes. Otherwise I'll get smashed and wind up in a bed with a random guy."
"(Name removed) is only making me stay because I said I wouldnt fuck him." (On why she couldnt go home early one day)
"Its harder when you're pretty." (A reply to me, and an ill-concealed dig at my own personal looks, when I told her that she's in the military, she should get used to getting shafted now and then.)
"They're girl's clothes because they are found in the girl's clothes aisle." (When I asked her to define what 'girl clothes' were.)
"I'm not trying to be conceited, but I'm pretty."
"I was fat, and I hated myself."
"I can't do that. I'm a girl." Azakias fucked around with this message on 11-11-2006 at 04:24 AM.
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Azakias's account was hax0red to write:
....
She is on her cell phone constantly, which is not a good idea for a couple of reason. A- she is in the military, at work. B- she is in the presence of CADs, thousands of pounds of duel, radar, and fine electronics. C- she has destroyed at least 2 of those $300 Razrs, or whatever they are, by throwing them against the walls when she gets mad. ....
I would figure you wouldn't even be allowed to bring them on duty.
Also sounds like she will just end up getting hoisted by her own petard eventually.
By the way, know anyone in medical that can accidentally lose her shot record.
--Satan, quoted by John Milton
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Bloodsage said:
You can be sure the bosses know what's going on.
Unless she's boning them.
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Peter was listening to Cher while typing:
By the way, know anyone in medical that can accidentally lose her shot record.
Most shot records are done in a database system nowadays, and any tampering gets you jailtime 
40 towels.
You know what must be done.
Under capitalism, man exploits man. Under communism, it's just the opposite. - John Kenneth Galbraith
Also if she doesn't get off her cell phone I would recommend knocking her the fuck out before someone switches something on and everyone gets slammed with so much radiation they're vegetized instantly. Stalwart Steve fucked around with this message on 11-11-2006 at 12:10 PM.
"Don't want to sound like a fanboy, but I am with you. I'll buy it for sure, it's just a matter of for how long I will be playing it..."
- Silvast, Battle.net forums
As a child having children she'll be a completely inept parent, neglecting and shrieking at her kids because they make her feel like she should have some sort of sense of responsiblity, and she hates that. They'll grow up to be disrespectful, spiteful children who openly hate her for being an idiot. Some may require lifelong therapy.
When they move out, they will never call her.
Hubby will vanish in an abrupt divorce when her tits start to sag, if he even stays around that long. She'll turn into one of those revolting late-middle-age women with wrinkled skin, premature liver spots from her inevitably unhealthy lifestyle, french tip nails and eyemakeup so thick that it cracks when she closes her eyes. Cheap fake tits are a strong possibility.
She'll use the only marketable skill that she has to scrape by a miserable and abusive existance. When her regulars stop calling she won't be able to make rent on the high-end efficiency that was already beyond her means but made her feel high-class. She'll end up squatting in some leaky tenement, drinking rubbing alcohol strained through burnt toast as a desperate escape from the horrid reality of her life. As an escape she may desprately try to draw up plans "for, like, starting a fashion agency, or something". Obviously these plans will go nowhere.
She'll die after having had no human contact for three years, mercifully in her sleep, probably of some form of poisoning. Maradon! fucked around with this message on 11-11-2006 at 09:37 PM.
It is by caffeine alone I set my mind in motion. It is by the beans of Java the thoughts aquire speed, the teeth acquire stains, the stains become a warning. It is by caffeine alone I set my mind in motion.
Still think a blanket party is in order. If you have any kind of seniority over her why not start white papering every transgression and submit it up the chain of command, in fact I'd do it just to cover your own ass before she does it to you first.
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There was much rejoicing when Almond said this:
Well she can always claim that she was raped in service which can net her a 100% service connected disability for the rest of her life. Last I heard you got about $2500.00 tax free dollars a month for that plus free medical for life. Quite the golden parachute really. Then there is the I'll get my self preggers to get out of my commitment, but that has a nasty little drawback that lasts 18 years.
The whole rape thing is taken very seriously, and followed up on quite closely. And there are ways to call the bullshit flag on women who falsely claim rape.
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Maradon! had this to say about dark elf butts:
Take comfort in the fact that she's going to go nowhere in life, and none of her dreams will ever be fulfilled. Because of her incredibly inflated opinion of herself, coupled with her obvious lack of any intelligence, she'll invariably marry a "hot" man who will invariably cheat on her, possibly beat her and will be too irresponsible himself to use any form of contraception.As a child having children she'll be a completely inept parent, neglecting and shrieking at her kids because they make her feel like she should have some sort of sense of responsiblity, and she hates that. They'll grow up to be disrespectful, spiteful children who openly hate her for being an idiot. Some may require lifelong therapy.
When they move out, they will never call her.
Hubby will vanish in an abrupt divorce when her tits start to sag, if he even stays around that long. She'll turn into one of those revolting late-middle-age women with wrinkled skin, premature liver spots from her inevitably unhealthy lifestyle, french tip nails and eyemakeup so thick that it cracks when she closes her eyes. Cheap fake tits are a strong possibility.
She'll use the only marketable skill that she has to scrape by a miserable and abusive existance. When her regulars stop calling she won't be able to make rent on the high-end efficiency that was already beyond her means but made her feel high-class. She'll end up squatting in some leaky tenement, drinking rubbing alcohol strained through burnt toast as a desperate escape from the horrid reality of her life. As an escape she may desprately try to draw up plans "for, like, starting a fashion agency, or something". Obviously these plans will go nowhere.
She'll die after having had no human contact for three years, mercifully in her sleep, probably of some form of poisoning.
MARADOWNED!
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Karnaj got all f'ed up on Angel Dust and wrote:
40 bars of soap.40 towels.
You know what must be done.
I think socks would work better.
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Vincent thought this was the Ricky Martin Fan Club Forum and wrote:
I think socks would work better.
Socks aren't as well constructed as towels are, they'd eventually get weak and destroy themselves, sending the soap flying. A nice large towel also allows you to really get the bar of soap moving really fast as you spin it around. You'd need extra large tube socks to get that kind of speed.
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Check out the big brain on Led!
How the heck is she still there if she is such an obvious detriment to the working order of the shop?
...Was pretty much my first thought from the beginning of the post.
