Slayers Anonymous 2.0

Super natural day jus riding

[slayersanonymous-blog]

Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman

Ways you know you’re in the most physically, mentally, and spiritually awkward phase of your life:

1) A glimmer of sun and 60 degree weather make you shed a tear.

2) You hardly ever go out, but when you do you only hit on bouncers and bartenders.

Side note: these are the only guys I have consecutive conversations with, fully knowing that they’re paid to talk to me.

3) Night time tea makes your mind, body, and soul tingle  hehe ;)

4) You haven’t had sex in months and feel super comfortable with it.

I’ve convinced myself that if I did I would have to live with that person’s energy for 7 years.

5) You question literally every aspect of the media, government, and modern societal tactics at all moments in time.

(If any of the above are reading this please click the X at the top left of the screen. Thnx. Also, you’re rude. No offense.)

6) Bachelor Monday’s keep your serotonin levels stabilized.

Lauren B. or Jojo? ~Lve it below~

7) The only people who make sense to you anymore are Amanda Bynes, Russell Brand, and Tila Tequila.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pEJpFjPFULA

MUST WATCH VIDEO OF THE YEAR^

I don’t even... Whatever.

ily <3

[slayersanonymous-blog]

My Friend the Serial Killer

I always wanted a normal life. Never did I imagine I would get caught up with robbery and murder. I first met My friend the serial killer 2 years ago. He owned a parking lot near my house and lived in a small hut where he spent most of his time watching martial arts dance videos and circling the parking lot on his vespa. He was an older man who showered my roommates and I with gifts of opened pedialite bottles and old rusty bikes that he renovated. We never expected such a generous man to commit such a horrid crime. The word on the street was that he had committed two murders with a crow bar and was able to get off on self defense, which he subtly reminisced to me in small talk from time to time. From the moment I met him, although I introduced myself by name, he automatically called me Kelly. I went with it because I figured I would need practice for when I go into witness protection when he murders my entire family. I started regularly responding to Kelly and we developed a sort of Edward Scissorhands type of relationship where I was nice to him so he didn't murder me and he offered me protection by being a murderer. One day I went to the local CVS for milk and ran into a boy who I used to stalk in the isle. I'm not going to provide his real name for the sake of identity protection, so let's just call him Bob. I then saw my serial killer friend standing right next to him. I am going to provide his real name for the sake of in case I go missing please find Larry the Serial Killer. Larry proceeded with his normal greeting: "hey Kelly! You're looking like a model today!" Normally I would do a hair flip and carry on , but the fact that me, Bob, and Larry were all in the same conversation- both of them knowing me with different names- different identities- different universes... So I panicked. I giggled nervously and ran to the self check out. Coincidentally, there were three self check outs and I found myself at the middle check out, right between Bob and Larry. I checked out as fast as I can and was practically sprinting out of the door with my items when I heard someone shout: "SHOPLIFTER!!!" and saw the manager running after me as well as an audience watching me accidentally steal milk from CVS. I had to shamefully walk back into the crowd who had just watched me commit robbery on my loyal grocer, the only place I could truly count on for generic razor discounts. Some may call this story coercion: me having no choice but to steal because of a serial killer and a hot guy. I, however, accepted my fault and learned my lesson: keep hot guys close but serial killers closer. #KELLY4PRESIDENT

[slayersanonymous-blog]

Kinda employed & kinda killing myself

Not only was I forced to graduate, live back at home in my parent’s house, leave the place where I was accepted as a functioning alcoholic, have to worry about a DD on the weekends, only drink on the weekends, and have to attempt to fux in parent’s houses unnoticed, BUT I have been thrown into the fiery pits of real world hell.

Unlike some of the rest of my fellow slays, I have a job (sort of). You can refer to me as “Temp”. I decided to take my job/internship back at the same company I worked for last summer. This is because:

1) I didn’t feel like being an adult yet

2) I didn’t feel like applying to any full-time jobs

3) I am terrible at writing cover letters

and most of all

4) I’m unmotivated and super fucking lazy

Everyone was so excited when I came back to work. Why? .....so they could turn me into The Help.

If I didn’t realize how important I was to the company and how important the work I do is, my work badge really helped to emphasize it:

This is supposed to be me. A faceless, nameless person. AKA The Help.

Also, do you understand how patronizing it is to hear “Are you excited to do this for the next 50 years of your life?” every single day .... No, go away, stop talking, your words are killing me, this place is killing me.

While I wake up for work tomorrow morning and every morning after that at 5AM, crying in the shower to hide my tears, just know..

I’m still alive, but I’m barely breathing.

Yours truly,

Skrill 

[slayersanonymous-blog]

The Little Things

When you graduate college and can’t find a real  job, it can be quite convenient to hold on to that mediocre, minimum wage, part-time job you’ve had throughout college. 

It can be defeating applying for a full-time job without getting a single interview, and when you happen to currently work alongside your all-too-recent ex-boyfriend...

you have a choice:

Either

A) Complain about the patronizing,entitled customers who need a plastic bag for a granola bar

OR

B) Try your very best to find humor in situations, like for instance, when you get blamed by the business casual lady with the short bob for the organic grapes being “far too overpriced”.

You could try Sears.

Despite my rare moments of weakness, I chose to live more of a B-option centered lifestyle. 

This can be hard when the regular, Frank, comes in and tells me

“Today is the day I want to die.”

“Well Frank, I can only hope it gets better for you today”... “Here take this Easter chocolate bunny that’s been sitting in my backpack for two months”.

Being a cashier and barista isn’t too bad.

It truly helped me realize that sometimes, it’s the little things in life.

You find extreme pleasure in taking the leftover smoothies and raw juices and compiling them into one large drink to make up for the lunch that you can’t afford- due to the miniscule wages.

It all comes full circle. 

In the meantime, I do my best to keep myself thoroughly entertained.

For instance, observe this organic carrot that resembles a dirty butthole below.

(Yes, a lucky customer drank this in raw juice form)

Damn right, I like the life I live, because I went from negative to positive, and it’s all good.

Just ask Frank. 

Sincerely Yours,

Good Cop

[slayersanonymous-blog]

Can I has job?

Can someone explain to me why it is easier to join ISIS than get a job? I could literally buy a plain ticket to Istanbul and walk across the border to Syria faster than I could get a job at Burger King right now.  What asshole decided that we need to go to college for four years only to end up working an entry-level position they could have given to a retarded kid who got their GED when they were 16? We live in a society where highly educated (and cute) kids aren’t getting jobs and guess whose fault it is? Obama. Michelle Obama.  She ruined my life and let me tell you why.

First of all, why does every entry-level position require 1-3 years of experience nowadays? Back in my day, entry-level position meant that you enter the company with minimum experience and training.  Now, in order to get an entry level position you need to have been a manager for 12+ years, have experience breeding llamas in Peru, are a disabled veteran, own a Lamborghini, are LEED certified, have your doctorate degree in linguistics and know how to cook a decent lemon basil salmon.  In the time it took for me to graduate college I could have worked my way up to a manager position at Foot Locker and be making 50k a year.  Just looking at the word “entry-level” patronizes me.  Basically in order to get a job in 2015, you need to sell you soul to the devil, and by devil I mean Michelle Obama.

I didn't ask for this life.  I could be the heir of a massive fortune and be drinking fancy red wine in Napa Valley with my gay uncle but here I am complaining about things and drinking pink lemonade with a splash of vodka (and chia seeds to make it healthy).   Deep down inside we all know that I don’t want to work, you don't want to work… no one actually wants to work but truth of the matter is we need to find jobs.  I might be working 12-4 on the corner or might be working as CEO of Foot Locker in a month but I am sure I will find something that makes me money one day. I just hope that day comes soon.

Before I book my plane ticket to go join ISIS, I have drafted a sample cover letter you can start submitting with your resume if you too are having trouble finding a job:

Dear to whom ever may concern,

giv me a fuxking job b4 I kill myseldf plz, llove me lol byeeeeee

ps. Plz job <23333

[slayersanonymous-blog]

Job vs. Bob

Purgatory was fun while it lasted

Finding a real person job is a lot like being dumped. I left an interview the other day feeling insecure... blindsided… wondering what I could have done differently… updating my Tinder prof pics…

As my name was called for my second interview at a sales company, two hot slays in black sauntered my way and asked if I liked Starbucks.  We hopped into a BMW and headed to Starbucks to begin the interview, which was starting to feel more like a 2 on 1 date ep of the Bachelorette (starring me).

The Franco brothers proceeded to describe the position and asked me typical interview questions as I sat across from them, sipping my venti skinny vanilla iced latte, debating on whether or not I should slide into their DMs and silently praising myself for going with the Caitlyn Jenner grey dress over the Bruce Jenner pants suit.

We headed back to the office where I was introduced to the CEO.  She took me back to her office and on the way we passed a room fully equipped with an Xbox and Dance Dance Revolution and she said, “This is Bob’s office”.  I asked who Bob was and she yelled: HERE BOB!! Then a dog ran out and hopped onto his DDR mat before we continued to her office.

After a few questions and burning eye contact, she concluded the interview by saying: “We would love to have you on our team, the hours are from 9 am until 9 pm 6 days a week, how soon can you start?” I almost said Monday before processing the hellish thought of a 72 hour work week.

I expressed my concern and in response homegirl told me she felt uncomfortable from my hesitation and retracted the job offer, patronizing me with a “It’s been a pleasure, exit’s down the hall to the left”.

I hurried to my car and looked into my soul through the rearview mirror, so many thoughts going through my head:  What just happened? Was that a date? Did those guys even work there? I wonder if they like me. Why does a dog have an Xbox? What’s his skill level of DDR? How many hours a week does Bob work? Why didn’t I get the grande size at Starbucks?

After telling my mom about my job that I had for two minutes and creating an invention for dogs to play Xbox through their brainwaves, I decided that Taylor Swift must have interviewed there before she was famous and the lyrics to Blank Space actually are “got a lot of Starbucks lovers”.  

It’s a dog eat dog world out there, and Bob’s at the top of the goddamn food chain.

[slayersanonymous-blog]

21 Questions about Men’s Softball

1.       Why do guys play softball 2.       Why is every straight white guy on a softball team 3.       Why aren’t you playing baseball 4.       Who are you playing 5.       Is there a universal bracket that all white guy teams are on 6.       Does Joe’s team play Chris’s team (hot) 7.       How is my bf on your bf’s team 8.       Who’s the coach 9.       Are you mad  10.     Who’s the umpire 11.     Who’s the first base coach 12.     Is a softball softer than a baseball 13.     Why aren’t you playing baseball 14.     Did your mom teach you to pitch like that 15.     Where/what time is your practice 16.     Can I come 17.     Did you make those t shirts 18.     Who determines rain cancellations 19.     Who enforces the rules 20.     Is that a visor you’re wearing 21.     Why aren’t you playing baseball