@Stalinwolf@lemmy.ca avatar

Stalinwolf

@Stalinwolf@lemmy.ca

🇨🇦

An invincible wolf man, who is like a wolf in every regard save for the fact that he can fly.

(Note: This might be misinformation)

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Stalinwolf, (edited )
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It was hit or miss at previous jobs. I worked at Kmart for a few years and would often help the stock guys round up carts in the evening. During summer evenings it was kind of fun wandering way out into that concrete sea with the boys, rounding up impossibly far carts and running the wrong carts (or electric scooters) back to the grocery store next door. But during the winter it was hell on fucking earth, and I’d help them round them up just to spare them the agony of a slipped disk.

I live in Canada now and couldn’t imagine rounding up carts during these cold snaps. You’d probably stick to them, imprisoning you in parking lot until you succumb to frostbite.

Stalinwolf,
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Canada is prepared to open the beaver gate for our allies to the south, but please, calm down everyone. Sorry.

Stalinwolf,
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Wow, dude. I haven’t thought about Dickbutt in ages.

Stalinwolf,
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This is like every modern Christmas movie where they think kids won’t get it unless Santa’s sleigh no longer runs on old magic, but on futuristic technology, guages, panels, samouflanges and discombobulators.

Stalinwolf,
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It’s up to Barron now to bring this entire operation down. I remember how much he looked as though he didn’t want to be there at the inauguration. It can only be him.

Stalinwolf,
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Can a man truly be wooshed when he doesn’t possess the required knowledge in the first place? I say not. This is an unjust woosh.

Stalinwolf,
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Produce Manager here. Thanks for all of the gross vegetables!

Stalinwolf, (edited )
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Produce Manager here. Place the end that opens directly between your two palms, and rub your palms together vigorously. The bag will stick to one palm or both, opening every time. Please stop licking your fingers to open these bags and then picking through our vegetables. You’re gross.

Stalinwolf, (edited )
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360! 540! 720! 900!

T-T-T-TEN-EIGHTYYY!!

Stalinwolf, (edited )
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I was the PM/Closing Supervisor at a shady (aren’t they all) Kmart for a few years. That job is the sole reason I will never work in general retail or a department store again. People would come on during the final closing announcements and disregard them completely, continuing to shop for 20-30 minutes even with reminders, and then arriving at the till breathing loudly through their mouths with huge books of unorganized coupons further complicating the transaction. God forbid you comment on the time or their lack of courtesy, lest you’ll be called a fucking racist and/or reported to the clownshow that was Sears Holdings corporate offices.

Stalinwolf, (edited )
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I manage a produce section at a grocery store and spend all day on my feet with no real personal workspace to unwind, other than a small shared office often occupied by talkative old women. I honestly love my job, am respected by my employer and I’m pretty well compensated (Canada), but even a desk in a cubicle looks kind of cozy to me. Just having a space for your things, a plant or two, a photo of your wife and kid. Not gonna lie, I kind of wish I had a small office and/or cubicle to retreat to. Even if it was just for the paperwork parts of my day.

Stalinwolf,
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But you’re our potato bug. 😘

Stalinwolf,
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I would usually just read whatever it said on the box and the customer would seem pleased with my knowledge.

Stalinwolf,
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This reminds me of the anonymous confession thing that made it’s rounds on Facebook several years back. My cousin would post links to his every day with messages like, “Let’s see what you’ve got” or “Give me your worst” attached to it. I suspect he was desperately fishing for compliments, or hoping for anonymous love confessions from the girls he was flirting with, as he would also post scrambled love letters on his wall that he must have figured these girls had time to sit down and eagerly unscramble (ie; I VELO UYO YLSHAE RMOE NTHA HTE UNS VELOS TEH ONOM). I always made sure to anonymously let him know what a stupid, annoying fuck he was being.

Stalinwolf,
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I’m yet to encounter the majority of issues I hear Lemmings griping about. Everyone has been pretty civil toward me. Every time my inbox blows up I feel dread, only to open it and find zero confrontation or vitriol. I’m not running into any racists, sexists, bigots, etc., and I certainly haven’t noticed a decline in content (I browse Top ~6 Hours).

I realize my personal experience doesn’t equate to these problems not existing, but I do get the strong impression that people are exaggerating greatly.

Stalinwolf, (edited )
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I know plenty of people dumb enough to take this as proof. I worked with a young guy a few years back who was standing idly by while I discussed PCs and malware with another co-worker. Idle guy joins the conversation to tell us how just recently he avoided some malware himself after receiving a popup from Microsoft saying his PC was infected. The popup included a number on the screen, which he called.

Relieved to have Microsoft looking out for him, buddy calls the number and follows instructions to give the person on the other end remote access. After which, the malware is allegedly removed, and he’s ordered to fork over $100 USD for the services rendered. Still relieved just to have Microsoft looking out for him like this, he forks over his fucking credit card information to pay for work. He finished the story with this very serious nod. A nod that said I really dodged a bullet there.

Poor blessed soul.

Stalinwolf, (edited )
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I miss hearing cardinals quite a lot. I moved from the Midwestern US to western Canada and have enjoyed learning the new birds (even bought the Audubon western bird guide to go with my old copy of eastern). I haven’t seen a Cardinal at all out here, but they’ve been photographed on rare occasions. I’m honestly just thankful that we still get robins every spring. It’s a nice reminder of home.

Stalinwolf, (edited )
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I began reading The Dunwich Horror last night and he makes mention of piping bullfrogs, and it sent me down this intense nostalgia trip over how well I know (and miss) that sound since leaving the Midwest. Who would have thought all those swampy BUNKS and GUNKS and BwwAaahhHhh-bwAaaAaahh-BwwAaaHhhh-BwwAaAaaaahhs would become such a cherished part of my past?

Gotta get me a plane ticket next Spring and go bullfrog hunting.

Stalinwolf, (edited )
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I feel this, but it’s only one kid for me. Three must be insane. Most days I look forward to something intended to occupy that free time, but like you I’m always wiped or experiencing a headache by 8pm or later. So I’ve gotten back into reading. Low energy, comfy, can do it on bed. Except now I open the book and am nodding off between sentences. Falling asleep easier than ever, but doomed nonetheless.

Stalinwolf,
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What movie is it?

Stalinwolf,
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If you have buy one dog, you can buy of several dog and they are quiet.

Stalinwolf, (edited )
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What exactly is going on in the background of the Death Star there? Are those windows? People working late night office jobs? Are those just a bunch of lit panels going beep-boop? Is there some technician who glances up at them occasionally and goes “Ah, shit. The samouflange (what the fuck is a samouflange?) is out on the megacondenser! Rob, could you please run a parse on panel A5D and get that boy blinky again?” and Rob is like, “You’re right, Michael. I hardly noticed.”

EDIT: Apparently it’s Cloud City. I recall this now. I’m honestly shocked that everyone has been so civil about this.

Stalinwolf,
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“It is called the Midwest because of the location of those states in the 1800s before the U.S. expanded to the Pacific Coast. These states were part of the Northwest Ordinance. This term became obsolete once the U.S. expanded westward, resulting in these states becoming the Midwest.”

Another site defines it as West of the Mississippi River, but between North and South. So I guess it qualifies.

Stalinwolf,
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Nah, I’m good. I’ll just stay home.

Stalinwolf,
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I live 3,000 km from where I grew up, and sometimes it blows my mind that if I step out to my street and touch the asphalt, I’m touching the same continuous structure that’s connecting to my parents home in a seperate country, on the other side of the continent.

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