By Drew

I hate the following people so much I wont even allow them the dignity of an intro.

Mc DOnalds workers…I…I don’t even know where to start with y’all. Lets be clear here: I’m going to assume that every time I order a big mac that y’all are making the special sauce, just right, for me and only me so that’s why it takes y’all so long with my order. But how hard is it to make a sausage mcmuffin with egg? There’s no goddamn mystery to it. The ingredients are literally in the name.

"Since we;re going to hire the slowest people possible lets not fancy up the names. Lets just make it literal and hope that speeds it up the process"

“Since we’re going to hire the slowest people possible lets not fancy up the names. Lets just make it literal and hope that speeds it up the process”

Sausage.

McMuffin.

Egg.

You don’t even have to put the cheese, fam….I can forgive that. I order 4 of those bad boys and a diet coke at 2 am and you trying to tell me it takes 28 minutes to get it? And what boggles my mind is y’all take all that time and STILL get the order wrong. Wendy’s employees barely even speak to you and are able to riddle off your order like they’re stenographers at the most delicious trial ever.

Not y’all.

Y’all will turn A big mac combo supersized with a quarter pounder, sandwich only, into a goddamn Sherlock conundrum.

 “Oh you said Big Mac? We gave you hotcakes and coleslaw….are you sure you didn’t order hotcakes and coleslaw?”

“Oh you said Big Mac? We gave you hotcakes and coleslaw….are you sure you didn’t order hotcakes and coleslaw?”

McDonalds staff please get your shit together.

You have NOT earned KFC’s stripes yet.

You gotta be selling 11 herbs and spices to have me wait more than 20 minutes for my diabetes.

“2 hrs until spicy breasts are done? Ok….where would you like me to park, madam? I’ll wait”, all Bahamians

“2 hrs until spicy breasts are done? Ok….where would you like me to park, madam? I’ll wait”, all Bahamians

And while we’re on the topic; who are these fucktards that office people are sending to Subway EVERY TIME I’M THERE?

Firstly, if you’re the idiot that gets sent out for food, much less Subway, then I need you to know that you are the weak one. You are proof that Darwin was right about natural selection. When the zombie apocalypse happens it will be you that all those co-workers, your so called “friends”, throw into the cannibalistic zombie fray while they run away to safety.

“Looka Maria from Accounts…..her dumb ass”

You are weak and no one likes you.

Why you so dumb?

MAKE THEM GET THEIR OWN SUBWAY!!

You knew you didn’t understand their writing when they gave it to you. In your heart of hearts you had to know 2 footlongs, 3 6inch stupidly specific sub orders and 1 salad for fat Brenda was going to be complicated when you wrote it down. Understand that, at subway, when you make multiple orders they make that shit on the spot so you’re taking up the time it would take to serve 7 people you simple minded piece of shit. Tell fat Brenda to stop lying to herself and either make her own salad “with extra bacon and ranch” or to get her behind up and go get it herself.

“Meat salad” isn’t a thing Brenda. That’s a bucket of chicken and you know it!”

“Meat salad” isn’t a thing Brenda. That’s a bucket of chicken and you know it!”

I’m sorry for yelling and calling you names but this week my greatest enemy posted about it and I had to not only like her status but comment on it.

Look what you made me do…..do you understand how much hate I had to put aside to like that shit much less comment?

Look what you made me do…..do you understand how much hate I had to put aside to like that shit much less comment?

Get your shit together, stop slurping tea, spreading gossip around the office, grow some nuts and get your lunch and ONLY your lunch.

And while we’re in the office….know who else we all hate? That one co-worker who no one knows what they do exactly.

Everyone has one, stop and think about it. If you work in an office with more than 15 people there is one person who you legit just don’t know what dept they belong to or what they even do. They are like the Michael Darville of the office.

This is Michael Darville…a politician. …. someone, anyone, tell me what he does? I’ll wait.

This is Michael Darville…a politician. …. someone, anyone, tell me what he does. I’ll wait.

See?

Y’all don’t know and the people who think they know aren’t really sure.

At this juncture I don’t even care what these anonymous workers do I’m just mad that when blame time comes around in meetings EVERYONE seems to know my job, position, title and duties meanwhile Mr.Anonymous McBlank-face is staring at me like he even works there.

Then there’s the jungless at work who everyone has to keep reminding you they have a degree to try and rationalize why they’re even employed in an office with a generator and “white people”.

“She ‘mongst these foreign white people talking all ghetto man! You could smell the Grouper St on her.”

“She ‘mongst these foreign white people talking all ghetto man! You could smell the Grouper St on her.”

This is the chick at work who “lends” her car to her unemployed boyfriend who is usually named after a color or unit of measurement.

“His name is Yellow Ounce and I love him!"

“His name is Yellow Ounce and I love him!”

She’s ghetto as shit and has piping hot tuna and grits for breakfast which, to be fair, is quite ok to have but…madam….eat some gum after.

Brush your teeth. Do something to get that fish and daddy issues off your breath.

Here’s the thing though….she has her bachelors in finance and damn good at her job. We hate her because we wish we could also feel safe in LiL Shottas after 11pm AND hold down a corporate job at the same damn time. It’s literally the Bahamian dream.

She could be worse, she could be that person on Facebook that feels the need to tell you about everything going on in their lives.

They always either start off with,

“I normally don’t like to put my business on facebook but….”

Or end with,

“Ok rant over. Just had to get some things off my chest.”

And if you’re REALLY lucky you have a super jungless on your Facebook who doesn’t care and calls names, addresses and gives descriptions.

“Ok so this is for Shankira Moultrie who thinks I give a fuk about what she thinks about my life. No boo boo. I love my bf and he is mine NOT yours. But we don’t have to keep posting on Facebook bitch you can come see me at Canep Lane apt 3 by the chain up dog. My number is 555-4685. I don’t hide bitch so check your front before you pardon my back  you no edges loose crabby havin jezebel!”

Thing is I enjoy the ghetto posters because at least they keep it 100. There’s no passive aggressive tone. They give you all the main points and people involved. Not y’all “intellectual” people. Y’all wanna hint at shit and not call names.

“I don’t want any trouble I just don’t like people in my business the way they are and NO I did NOT do what everyone thinks that I did last night at 4am with the individual in question. Just please lets all love each other and stop this useless back and forth”

“I don’t want any trouble I just don’t like people in my business the way they are and NO I did NOT do what everyone thinks that I did last night at 4am with the individual in question. Just please lets all love each other and stop this useless back and forth. And to my forbidden love just know I will never let them take our glow. #NMW #NoWeapon”

Really, nigga?

Now I gotta go DM the group chat to, not only bring attention to your post but to figure out what and who the hell you talking about. Stop stressing people out when they trying to procrastinate at work please. Either name names and details or just don’t post. And yes, it is my gatdamn business because that shit showed up on MY timeline. Check your privilege and stop. Don’t be annoying on Facebook like us 10th Yr Seniors niggas.

Who do we even think we are? Somehow, some way Nal and Kari thought people would be interested in sports let alone our opinions.

Y’all realize we dumb, right?

Y’all realize we exist in a state of civil chaos, right?

This is arguably the worst group of people in Nassau. Nal is….well, he’s married to Sannie….you do the math. Taige is a known asshole. Kari is an undercover asshole. Timothy just got a job after years of lying to his loved ones about being employed when really he was just WhoDat’ing random strangers.

Who he fighting exactly? Mussy job prospects and stability

Who he fighting exactly? Mussy job prospects and stability

Randolph almost always taking bathroom selfies..

At least the bathroom clean, I'll give you that

“I work out too much and too long to iron shirts, papa”, Randy

John literally swears at children that touch his camera gear or gets in his way because he is John.

The false god Ricardo is….well, he’s actually the best. He’s a really incredible person and you’re lucky if you include him in your life. Just a really sweet and kind guy. We need Cardo because Lord knows we don’t play well with others.

Pretty much only Dakarai smiles and the rest of us just skulk around Johns house complaining about gals, sports and niggas. Only other blogger that likes us is Sherice but she’s rarely here enough to hate us so she doesn’t know any better.

Hope you see what happen to Ryan Lochte. Keep traveling and doing shit in Rio! #SheSoLockedUp #MajorProblems #AnotherHastagIncludingHerLastName

Hope you see what happen to Ryan Lochte. Keep traveling and doing shit in Rio! #SheSoLockedUp #MajorProblems #AnotherHastagIncludingHerLastName

Then theres me.

Somehow some way y’all decided that 2000 words from a single, unmarried, childless, broken, borderline alcoholic was the perfect person to entertain you every Friday. Y’all either really bored or equally as messed up as I am. I should be giving relationship advice the same way Bill Cosby should be a bartender.

“Pass by my bar I'll mix you up a tall glass of rape"

“Pass by my bar I’ll mix you up a tall glass of rape”

Please people, take everything I say with a grain of salt. I am literally the worst at relationships much less advice. I have more failed relationships under my belt than I care to mention. Just treat my “articles” the same way you would treat any story your 4yr old ever drew for you in nursery school.

“Ok so why the hell did you paint mommy and daddy on Noahs ark holding dicks- Never mind I forget you still dumb. When are you turning not dumb….or 12?”

“Ok so why the hell did you paint mommy and daddy on Noah’s ark holding dicks- Never mind I forget you still dumb. When are you turning not dumb….or 12?”

Oh and I didn’t forget you, in my personal space line people. Bahamians please, if you’re in ANY line, there is no need to have your usually smelly body near mine.

Do you people know how lines work?

It literally HAS to be your turn at some point. You’ll get to the front. Breathing down my neck won’t make the line go any faster I promise you.

More or less BEC line every day

More or less BEC line every day

What bothers me is it’ll be like 4 people on the line and niggas will still be up under you like there isn’t space. Of course they have some soca ringtone that they let ring just long enough for you to turn around and wonder why the hot hell they don’t answer their phone. Which then leads to the loudest conversation ever.

“No girl I here on this long ass Royal Bank line READY to cuss this red bitch out if she ask me to pay to cash my check! “

“No girl I here on this long ass Royal Bank line READY to cuss this red bitch out if she ask me to pay to cash my check! “

Earlier I said don’t take me seriously. I take that back. This is the article I need y’all to take seriously. If you identify as ANY of these people stop.

And y’all self righteous, preachy ass vegans? You only get half a bar…

Screw you, niggas.

Stay(hatefully)Woke

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