Eff off Cal Alumni Association

Dear UC Berkeley Alumni Association,

Kindly eff off. I am sick of your letters telling me how important my donation is during the California State budget crunch. I am sick of your exploiting students (based on accents I think only from the i-House, you sweatshop running bastards) to give me some sob story over the phone about how their mom had to become a whore just so she could send her daughter to the US so she could got to Berkeley to beg ex-students for money. You guys really in a budget crisis? I have an idea, stop spending all your fucking money on postage and long distance phone calls! There is this amazing new thing that Al Gore invented (which is often mistaken for a big truck, but don't be fooled, its actually a series of tubes) called the internet. You can send people things called "emails" for free. I shit you not. Amazing huh? Actually, sending emails would piss me off too, so scratch that idea.

Seriously, if I wanted to give you money I would figure out a way to do it. But, I have none. You know that I have none. Every time the whore's daughter calls me I tell her I am in school and have no money. I have lots of negative money I would be more than happy to give you though. I would love to sponsor the building of a new football stadium by donating $500 in debt right now!

Finally, seriously, how stupid do you think I am. Why do you think I'm going to be incentivized (spell check thinks I am making up this word. I might be) to spend an addition $2,500 so I can get a $5 T-Shirt. I must admit, the $10 polo shirt you are trying to sell me for $10,000 is pretty effing sweet, but I will have to pass until I have so much money I have to decide between giving it to you and whipping my butthole with it. If you want to send me the Oski Beanie Baby anyway though, that would be pretty cool.

Love always
Caleb

Dear UC Hastings Bookstore proprietor,

Kindly eff off. I was going to complain about my tax law fiasco today, but it really wouldn't be fair to blame you (in fact, this should be an "eff off Caleb for being such a complete dumb fuck" post, but I need to try and keep up some semblance of self respect). Here's what happened. I decided to drop comparative law and take tax law instead because I liked the professor and really didn't want to take comparative law (it turns out that it was a good decision because hot girl came to sit next to me). Anyway, I went to the bookstore yesterday to buy my books, which unfortunately was a new addition so there were no used books. So I buy the book and precede to read the 40 page assignment for class. The assignment ends kind of randomly in the middle of notes, so I double check the assignment just to realize I bought.the.wrong.book. Apparently there are two upper division tax law courses. I went to the bookstore again this morning to get the new book, at which point I was informed I could not return the first book because I had highlighted in it. WOO HOO! I now am the proud fucking owner of TWO books for a class I don't really want to take!!!!!!!

To your credit, you were very nice. You apologized that there was nothing that you could do (because I had bought the book new and it was no longer new) and for your stacking of books being confusing (which, it actually wasn't, I was just being an unobservant preoccupied twat) and in addition told me that I could sell the book back and if you were working you would try and make sure I got more back than the book would normally be bought for.

In conclusion, I am saying fuck you for being too damn reasonable and nice about everything for me to be pissed off at you. I feel like the dumbest shit in the world (a $200 poorer dumb shit for that matter), the least you could do is give me something to let out my frustration on beyond my own illiteracy. Next time please tell me I am an idiot and I should drop out so I can write a real "eff off blog" instead of this half aff excuse for one. Thanks

Love always
Caleb

Today I went to the gym, directly followed by a stop at the fancy ass overly priced organic market by the bart station in Glen Park. As such, today's bitching out is dedicated to Canyon Market.

Dear Canyon Market,

Kindly go eff yourself. Seriously, you are most worthless grocery store ever. You are huge, and yet still manage to not really have anything. Coffee Creamer? No. Chicken Nuggets? Only fake soy knock offs. Wine? Only of the over $10 a bottle variety (hey, I'm only playing lawyer right now, I can't afford that shit yet). Lettuce (which is the entire reason I went to the grocery store in the first place because I need my dinner salad to maintain my regulatory) yes, but for three times what it costs at Safeway. Seriously, what is the overcharge for? Do you need to freshly import your smug air from Europe? Do checkers who don't wear deodorant charge for their BO? Honestly, a fucking avocado should never cost $2.50. If there were a Safeway or Trader Joe's within walking distance, you people would be out of business in a heart beat.

Finally, holy shit you fuckers are diabolical. Most grocery and convenience stores keep magazines, soda and gum near their check out lines to attract impulse buyers. You? CHEESE! Seriously, it's like you designed your entire store around thwarting my self restraint. ESPECIALLY when I am really hungry because I just got done blasting my pecs. Fuck you. Because of you, a trip to the store for a head of lettuce resulted in $25 dollars in cheese purchases. Sure, you can claim you are doing me a service by offering humbolt fog and goat gouda which cheaper less obnoxious stores do not offer, but you are not fooling me. I am heretofore boycotting your institution...until I need more lettuce.

Love always,
Caleb

Eff Off people who don't get hung over

I'm sitting on my sofa completely unmotivated to do my reading for tomorrow and hung over as shit. As such, I figured my pilot contribution to this blog is dedicated to people who claim they don't get hung over.

Dear People Who Don't Get Hungover,

Please kindly eff off. Stop rubbing it in that I am sitting here feeling like ass while you are totally free to get wasted whenever the hell you want without consequences the next morning (other than that raging case of herpes you got from blowing that dude with dreadlocks). Do you go up to people in wheelchairs and say "dude, that seriously sucks, I never get paralyzed from the waste down in freak Irish Rhythmic Dance Competition accidents." I don't think so, and if you do, then eff off double.

Also, don't ask me asinine questions like "what does being hung over feel like?" There is no difference between that and bragging about not getting hungover. You really wanna know what it feels like? Come over and let me sit on your head for a few minutes.

Finally, I don't fucking believe you for a second. I think you do get hung over but just like to pretend like you're a bad ass and can handle your liquor better than I can. If you really aren't hung over it just means you're a giant pansy ass who quits after one Smirnoff Ice and pretends to be drunk. Eat Me

Love Always, Caleb