Tom Nardone’s Driving Museum of A##holes!!

Nobody loves these people. Where the Hell are they going.


Driving affords many things to many people. It can be an important rite-of-passage to a young man or woman to finally reach another milestone in journey toward adulthood. Driving can be a long-awaited trip to take with friends looking forward to spending time together. It can be a time for people to spend catching up or just hanging out. I, on the other hand, see driving as a bunch of bullshit that I must endure because someone or something has required my presence.

Unfortunately, it is also a chance for assholes to take their craft to the stage. It is a chance for the true gladiators to show the world that their life can always get just a little bit harder. Sadly though, they don’t even realize that they are at fault.

I am sympathetic  though. It is difficult to hear with your head up your ass.

First up: “The Inactive Assholes”

These are the drivers who we judge based on their personalities or by the image they want to portray while they are on the road. This asshole is not being judged by his ability, or inability to drive their car. These people could actually be skilled drivers.


“The Bumper Sticker Asshole”

Introducing, “The Bumper Sticker Asshole” Apparently there are those that feel it is necessary to let the entire driving community know what they think about

Bumper sticker car parked in Santa Cruz, Calif...
Lunatic at the wheel

EVERYTHING! (I am not blind to the irony of me speaking out against people who are giving their opinion) I will give them one bumper sticker. Do you think they could use their bumper sticker as an opportunity to entertain me? Can they not try to help me?  I am in my car, with no air conditioner. I woke up and I had a choice to make. I could have either gotten up, and went to my job, or I could have just killed myself. Is it necessary that I be made to feel I have chosen incorrectly?

I don’t want to be reassured that you love your country. I don’t give a shit, how your kid is doing in school. I don’t care what side your ancestors were on during the civil war, or how proud of that you are. As far as I am concerned, your name is “Douche McBaggerson” You can go to hell. Just entertain or inspire me, and don’t clutter your whole windshield up with a bunch of bullshit. I only read so fast and when the light turns green, I have other assholes to worry about.


“The Wannabe Hot Rod Asshole”

Courtesy of

Courtesy of

Introducing “The Wannabe Hotrod Assholes” Honestly I understand that people should be allowed to spend their money on whatever they choose , but when I see a three hundred dollar car with three thousand dollar rims on the road I have to ask myself a question. Can the degenerate who made that decision possibly be capable of safely navigating his piece of shit through this city without killing someone? So far, I am not convinced.

“Look there is nothing wrong with buying, and driving a piece of shit car. Just accept that it is a piece of shit car. Embrace it. Be proud of it. Flaunt it. There is no need to mask it by spending money on stupid rims, decals, or a skank in the seat beside you. That just makes you and the car look like an asshole. No you’re right, cars can’t look like assholes, but yours does.

Believe me I have never owned a car that was not a piece of shit. I have never even washed a car that I have owned. I even referred to my old 81 Dodge Aries station wagon as a “The Dumpster”, but it didn’t have a spoiler or a hood scoop on it. I wasn’t painted lime green, and I was as proud as shit to be seen driving it down the road.”


“The Car Stereo Asshole”

These are the most annoying bastards that the seed of man has ever fouled the earth with. From where do they come? I can’t imagine a Hell that would admit them. They are dbbnot always around, but when they are you know because you can feel your car rattling. We will just refer to this sound as the “call of the asshole.” They have no self-awareness.

“Hey asshole, please don’t play any Led Zeppelin, Iron Maiden, Motley Crue, or any music that someone might actually want to here. That would screw up the whole annoying son of a bitch vibe you have going on. Why in the Hell are you out here on the road anyway. There couldn’t possibly be any one the planet who cares one way or the other if you show up or not. Why don’t you just put a shirt on, spin that stupid hat around and pretend that you are a man. Who knows? You might even some day convince the world that you are more than just a gaping shit-for-brains. For now, I would be fine if you just went to Hell”.

Safety Note: I will have to get a good look at the driver before I decide to engage him. I value my ass, and I don’t want a cap busted in it. A large or criminal looking driver will get no problem from this driver.


“The Volunteer Firemen Assholes”

Volunteer Firemen, are almost entirely made of heroes. Ned Hicks for example, I don’t know if anyone in the world has ever blurred the lines more between man and super hero. There is however, a small group of people in the south that use this as an excuse to drive around with a police band radio and flashing red lights on top of their trucks. This gives them a sense of importance and/or authority.  Why should I have to alter my driving experience because this son of a bitch feels like he wants to go pretend to be firemen once or twice a year?

Note: While I am on the subject; why do firemen need an entire legion of Bubbas and Jethros to aid them? I personally do not need a team of people to help me eat, sleep, or watch TV. Why do they?

Last: Active Assholes

These are the “Proactive Assholes” or “Trouble-Making Assholes.” These are the people, who by their actions, cause others grief. These are the real problem on the road they are the source of everything that is shitty about driving.


“The Selfish Bastard Asshole”



Driver-showng-middle-finger2The best example I could come up with for this would be Tom Nardone. Yes that is me. I made the cut this time. I am “The Selfish Bastard Asshole” I do not let anyone in front of me. I don’t worry about waving at you as a way to say thank you. I will block the intersection if I think there is the slightest chance I can make it across.

My “Assholistic” driving issues are not just outward. They are inward as well. When I have my family in the car I am not only in complete control, I am also in complete command. I don’t care who is in the car with me. The air is controlled by me. The seat position is controlled by me. I decide who sits where and I control the damn music selection. My purpose for driving is for me to get from one place to another without getting pissed off in the process. Everybody who is benefitting by my willingness to drive has one job and one job only. They are to make every effort to ensure that I am happy, that I feel good, and that I have zero bullshit to contend with. I am the driver. I if you want to be an asshole fine. You can drive. I don’t consider myself above any other person, but if I am the driver, you are secondary.


 “The Good Samaritan Asshole” (Sure as hell not me.)

no picLet me to paint you a picture. It is bumper to bumper traffic. The sun is beating the hell out of you because your car is going too slow to generate the necessary RPM’s to get the air conditioner to work. Traffic is standing still, and you can’t figure out why. We have all been there. Well, once I do start moving, there is no way I am going to stop and let someone turn left to go into the mall or some silly little restaurant. There is no way anyone is going to pull out in front of me. I will ride a car’s bumper in front of me, and since I drive a piece of shit, let them try to get their car in front of mine.

Their does however, always seem to be some good-Samaritan, or a servant to the driving world in front of me who feels they are making the world a better place one car at a time by being a courteous driver. They will let people turn left in front of them,(and me) they will let people pull out in front of them(and me) two or three at a time.

Sometimes, if I am in the right mood, I will stand on my horn until they realize they are pissing me and many other drivers off in some underhanded attempt to make themselves feel helpful to the world. This forces them to ask themselves “Hey is helping these people worth the embarrassment it is causing me?” The answer usually seems to be “No” Because I stop honking when they start moving


 Introducing: “The Cell Phone Asshole”

I hate the sight any driver talking on their cell phones. There is really only one thing about seeing people talk on their phones while driving that infuriates me, but it is a BIG

Person using cell phone while driving.

Hello? Dick McPrickerson here.

one. During heavy traffic I am at a red light with this clown in front of me. The light turns green, but they don’t realize this because they are apparently on some urgent phone call that has is more important than everything I have planned to do for the day. They think I don’t mind waiting for them. If I see them talking on the phone at the light before it turns green, I am anticipating a delay and I have my right hand ready in the honking position. I give them literally 1 second to get their piece of shit moving, and then, they get “The Horn”. Not just a friendly honk either. I stand on it even after we have cleared the intersection. I have given people a single blast of my horn that has exceeded 15 seconds. Yes, I keep honking after they are moving. I want them to know that there is a bigger asshole at the wheel behind them, and that he demands some professional courtesy. It also tells them that I am not interested in a repeat performance at the next light. Sometimes they will actually hang up the phone. That is a rare and sweet victory. It is at that moment I consider myself the hero driver


“The Speeding Asshole”

A typical speed limit sign in the United State...

This means you asshole

I really hate a driver who speeds. I am not saying that I obey every law in this country, but I do not speed. My wife hates when I drive because I have an obsessive need to maintain the speed limit. It’s not just because I believe it is safe.

If I get a ticket, then that means I will have a court date looming over me. I will spend a week or two dreading a day that I will have to take off work, and leave the house, so I can go to court and deal with this by writing a check. It just isn’t worth it.

The interstates are usually where these particular assholes come out of the wood work. There are more of them, than all the others combined. What really bugs me about them is that it’s not enough for them to just drive fast. They seem to think that I support their need to put lives at risk. When I drive down the highway I usually do prefer the right lane anyway, however, if the left lane happens to be a smoother ride, I will choose the left lane. The car behind me will wait for an opportunity to pass me in the right lane. Now if they get pulled over, that is two things they can get ticketed for.

One thing I have noticed is when they do end up having to pass me on the right, they always look at me. They just have to see what I look like. I don’t do it anymore, but years ago, I would have a little sign in my car. It was a paint stirrer stick with a piece of card board tapped to it. It simply read “I LOVE YOU” That really made them mad.


 “The Parking Assholes”

Yes, I know parking is a bitch. There are so many cars entering and exiting parking places all day, and that is bad enough, or is it?

Outrageously shitty parking job, SUV at USC, C...


Well, not for some people. There is always that driver who will drive around and around until that perfect place opens up that they can cruise right into. They make driving shitty for you and me.

I remember one time I was behind this stupid lady and the perfect place opened up, but she went forward a little too far. She needed to back up in order to enter this magical spot. She (without even looking at me) sticks her hand out the window and starts waving me back as if me taxiing an airplane. I of course, being Tom Nardone, pulled forward even more to ensure that she would be unsuccessful in her attempt. She tried to wait me out. Yah right. When that didn’t work, she only then, tried politeness, but that didn’t matter because she already became a blip on my asshole radar. She stuck her head out of the window and politely said “Sir could you back up just a little so I can have this spot” I replied, also in a polite tone, “No ma’am I won’t but thank you for asking, and please feel free to take all the time you need. That parking place is my destiny and I have nothing to do all day but wait for it.”. I did not know until that day that a station wagon could burn rubber. I did take the spot. It was nice. At that moment I became the “it serves you right driver”

“Turn Signals”

English: Turn signal lamp on 706RTO Česky: Boč...

On turn signals; I do not require any driver to use their turn signal mainly because I don’t believe them anyway. A turn signal just indicates what direction a person thinks they are going. I do not pay any attention to them anymore.

“The Horn”

On the horn; this is a very important part of my car, second only to the brakes. There are several different ways I honk my horn. If I am of good cheer, then maybe I might

just use “The Bump” (this courtesy is not afforded to people on their cell phones). This is a simple quick blast of the horn. It is an almost friendly sound that sort of says “Hey buddy the light is green now just so you know.” It is the subtlest of horns.

There is also “The Push”. This is for people who are day dreaming. There is no real malice a forethought while using “The Push”, but there is also no real acknowledgement of the drivers feelings either. “The Push” is also used if I am picking someone up and I simply need to alert them from the driveway.

My personal favorite is without a doubt “The Stand”. This is for anybody who meets my own personal list of things that qualify them as an asshole. This is the one that calms the angry beast inside me. Sometimes using this horn makes it worth being out in traffic. There is nothing like that long blast of my horn to indicate to the driver in front of me, that they are a shithead. It also provides this moron with all the public embarrassment and unwanted attention they need to help themselves to make better decisions in the future. It also alerts any other driver in the area that there is a stupid ass among us, and that they should be wary of their presence. I do always make exceptions for certain people. Those would be: handicap people, old people, and of course there is no need to gain any extra attention from police officers. Police cars are the only government vehicles that are exempt from my training program. As I said before, I value my ass and I don’t want it thrown in jail. I do consider it a public service to provide this free training to the general driving public, and though I ask no credit for this act of good will, I have probably saved countless lives all over the country. I hope that is something that will always be said about Tom Nardone; “He gave till it hurt”.

Four Way Stops

On 4 way stops; there seems to be a lot of confusion at 4-way stop signs. There are way too many of them in my area. One thing I used to find annoying is when you get to the


My Turn

stop sign and nobody seems to know whose turn it is. I finally figured that out. If I come to a 4 way stop and there is any confusion as to whose turn it is, then it is automatically by default, my turn. This has made it much easier.

Thank you for riding with me. I hope you enjoyed the trip. See you on the road.

Feel free to mention any assholes that I forgot.

Tom Nardone.

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Tom’s Endless Summer 2013


Tom’s Endless Summer 2013

There seemed to be a lot of interest in my post on Facebook last night of my wife’s honey-do list that could potentially destroy what was already going to be a crappy summer for  reasons I have mentioned in past articles. For those of you who did not see the email message, I have included it below. My wife sent this to me, and told me to check my email. As she left to go to bed for the night. All she said as was, “We will talk about it in the morning” I checked my email and this is what I found. How about we  go through it line by line.

The Email:


I have adopted your life style and the house is crumbling around us. If we work as a team we can do this please help me.   

Your loving wife

1.       Paint the deck and fence ( yes take a close look)
2.       Clean behind the house burn yard trash
3.       Take old swimming pool to the dump
4.       Repair the bathroom ceiling
5.       Repair moldings I will paint
6.       Clean up and repair your Honda
7.       Take a truck load to goodwill
8.       Clean garage
9.       Mulch around house
10.   Clean your rooms I will clean your carpet and paint Continue reading

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Cell Phone For Tom Nardone? | I would rather just have a fishhook in my ass.

Cell Phone No More

I did own a cell phone about seven years ago. I was at the point where my contract was up in three days and was set to renew automatically. I thought about it and said “Hell I guess I’ll just let it renew.” The next day was Friday. I was at work and it was fifteen minutes before I was going to leave. I had the weekend off and I could not get out of there soon enough.

Finally, it was five minutes ‘til 3:00pm, and I began that magical walk toward the time clock, I hit the clock and was on my way to the front door, and it happened. RINNNNNNNG! It was my wife she said “Tom are you still at Home Depot” I said, still at this point with a smile on my face “Yes dear I am walking out the door” She said “Well I am glad I caught you. I need you to grab a few things on your way out.” I didn’t want to do it but if it makes her happy I thought fine. I can just do it, and start my awesome weekend off on a cooperative note. I said “OK dear, what do we need?” with her next words I knew that whatever plans I might have had for a great weekend were now in the shitter. She responded “You are going to need a pen”

Here are the things that I grabbed on the way out. 25 bags of mulch, 60 fence pickets, a wheelbarrow, a hundred foot garden hose, and a bunch of other little things. For those of you not cursed with the burden of owning a home, these are the kinds of things homeowners buy to ensure that they have a real shitty weekend. Most of you know my position on yard work. Nothing gives me the red-ass like being stopped on my way out the building after I have clocked out, but after this, I was devastated. If you have ever gotten so mad that your anger turns to tears or crying, then you know how I felt. I wrote it all down and managed to push the words “I love you dear” out of my body, and then I hung up.


My cell phone, my wonderful, fifty dollar a month, pain in the ass, heart-breaking, soul killing, cell phone,  with a fist covered in talcum powder had screwed me for the last time. After hanging up with my wife, I looked at my cell phone and smiled. I then dropped it, still smiling, and watched it go hurling toward the concrete floor of the Home Depot. My smile turned to anger and I began violently jumping up and down on that phone like a child throwing a tantrum. There were pieces of cell phone flying everywhere. When I finished, I noted that two couples that were shopping, were watching my performance. I looked at them and said “I just got some really bad news from home” They nodded as if to offer me their sympathy, and I got the stuff and went home.

I got home and went insides the house and Yvonne said “Did you get everything?” I said “yes dear, I have to go upstairs and take care of something.” I went up to my man-cave and called Sprint. I told them I would not be renewing my contract. They explained to me that to cancel my contract they would need a letter from me thirty days before the termination date.

I did not even get mad. I just said “Well it is your right to continue my service, just as it is my right to not send you any more money. I am not going to write you a letter, but I will stop sending you money. I imagine you will get tired of providing me with service before I get tired of not spending fifty dollars a month, thereby giving other people access to my ass for the purpose of causing it pain.  Believe me ma’am your services has caused me more pain today then I have time to explain.”

The Sprint lady said “Sir this will be reported to the credit bureau, and will result in a negative mark on your credit.” I said “Well of course it will, believe me many others have gone there before you. Sprint will be, but another drop of water in the Sea of Tom Nardone. So by all means, feel free to do your worst. Thank you for your time ma’am”

YVONNEI hung up the phone, and went downstairs and began the hell that would be my weekend.

Cell phone for Tom? No Thank You. I would rather have a fish hook in my ass.

I am Tom Nardone, and you are welcome.


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Tom Nardone is My Husband | He is Also ADHD

Guest Writer Yvonne Nardone

yvonne-nardoneTom is the kindest smartest and funniest person I have ever met. Although we constantly disagree we seldom fight. Tom is my Best friend and husband and I’m proud to call him that.[Continue Reading]

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Time-ADHD, I Love You, but You Are a Whore!

tom-nardone-timeThere is a lot said about “Time” such as; Time waits for no man, Time is money, Time heals all wounds, or Time is on our side. I have a different attitude towards time. Those of us with ADD or ADHD know this all too well. Time is screwing us! CONTINUE READING


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My Wife is Just Wrong

 My Reasoning is Infallible, I Am Tom Nardone

tom1My wife has a word that she likes to throw around. I get it, and my father-in-Law, George gets it worse than me. The word is “Cheap”. It doesn’t really bother either of us. I just don’t get why certain things are so important to my wife.

OK, I have a man-cave above the garage. It is the place where I go to play with my toys. It is my room. It is my sanctuary. The deal we made when we moved in was I make every single decision about this room and she gets the entire rest of the house. Please, don’t think me generous, I simply don’t give a damn about any other room. One summer we got an electric bill for 280 dollars. I almost went Spartacus, but a couple of hours of crying, and I calmed down and accepted that we would just pay it. The following day I came home with 2 AC window units (one for me, and one for Brett) and shut off the central air. This apparently was a problem because she said it was against some Home Owner Association covenant. Well, we live in the cul-de-sac. So that rule obviously doesn’t apply to us. Yah. You just let them to say one word, I will buy red lights for every outside light we have and light this place up like the “Amityville Horror” house. She raised Hell every day when she got home, saying how awful it looked in the front of our house. She even called her air conditioning guy to see if we were even going to save any money. He said “Not a chance in Hell” Well I am happy to tell you that those 2 window units in the heat of summer run constantly and we pay 100 dollars less than we ever did with the central air. HA!! Game, Set, and Match. Tom Nardone Here.

One of my other favorite songs on the “Yvonne’s Greatest Hits” album is this one. Over the course of a period of a year my windshield wiper blades were wearing out. I put off getting new ones until one day I was actually looking through a small thin area on my windshield that was the only place I could see out of when it was raining. I stopped on the way home that day and went in to get some wiper blades. Well, I did not want to spend 10 dollars on a pair of windshield wipers. So I bought one single wiper blade. My wife and I were going to the movies the next day. We got ready to leave and she said “Oh!! I don’t want to drive us there. Did you get your wiper blades fixed” I said “Hey! We are good” We got in the car and got on the road and she couldn’t believe what I had done. It was raining very hard and we were doing about 35mph by the time she looked up. She said “Tom I can’t see a thing” I said “Well you have driven this road a thousand times, is there something you wanted to look at?” she said “Damn it Tom! Please tell me that you didn’t drive all the way to Advance Auto, and put yourself out by taking care of your car, and then you get all the way to the register and whimp-out of splurging for 2 windshield wipers” I explained to her how bad it sounded when she says it like that. I told her, ”OK Yvonne, Look! I am driving and I can see fine. I have a perfect wiper blade over here. I am the driver. Therefore I am the only person who needs to see out of this window. The only thing you have to worry about is running out of stuff to yell at me about.” The ride home wasn’t much better.central system.

4311105154_33d6f738baAnd then there is also the gas issue. Back before my wiper blades wore out, my truck was perfect. Yvonne even drove it sometimes. She asked me to put gas in the truck on the way home from work one day because she needed it the next day, so I did. She asked me the next morning, if I remembered to gas up the truck and I told her yes. 3 hours later she got back and said “I thought you put gas in the truck” See the problem was that I only put about 5 dollars in. She thinks that I should fill it up every time. She said “It’s on empty!!! How much did you put it in” I thought she was going to die when I told her 5 dollars. She said (after a long pause) “WHY?” I explained it to her and she didn’t get it. I said “When I am standing at the pump, 1 of 2 things happen. One, I get bored standing there doing nothing waiting on a pump and so I say, good enough and just end it. Or two, sometimes when I am watching the numbers change I come to a realization that those numbers actually represent dollars flowing out of our bank account and that just plain pisses me off.” She bit her bottom lip, regained her composure, and then said very calmly in a very eerie voice, “Tom, where was it you said you need to go this afternoon?” I said “I was going to go to GameStop to pick up a new video game for my Xbox” she said “OH, OK, I was worried you had your priorities screwed up. Have a good time” and then she just left the room, leaving me in the den by myself, alone and, in silence. Now you tell me. “Does my wife not kick total ass or what?” I went out, and got the game and salvaged what could have been a terrible day.

I will stand by the decisions I have made. I am Tom Nardone. I am awesome. I am smarter than the Air Conditioner Guy, and my life is no less abundant as a result of the choices I have made. So bring it on world, what will be the next thing you have that I will not pay for?

I am Tom Nardone, and you are welcome.

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  • Or you can enter you email address at the top of this page and click the button that says “BE AWESOME” 
  • Or you could risk never hearing from me again and go through life without the benefit of my counsel, but what would be the
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Two Weeks Notice? HELL NO!

Two Weeks Notice ? HELL NO!! 

Tom-nardone-two-weeks-notice-1-free-clipartWe have all heard of the two weeks notice. There is an idea in this country that when you decide to leave a job, “The right thing to do” is to notify your current employer with a two weeks notice in advance. Of course we all understand that you are vital to your company’s future. If you were you to leave suddenly, things would be difficult for them. How difficult would they be? Imagine…. if you were to leave your job.Tom-nardone-two-weeks-notice-2-free-clipart

Do this for me. Close your eyes…wait, wait, wait. Don’t close your eyes. I forgot you were reading. Just ask yourself which of the following two scenarios sound the most reasonable, and be honest, I would ask that you take this seriously.

Dissatisfied with your current job, you have finally found another one. They needed you to start immediately. Realizing that you cannot give a two weeks notice, you enter your current boss’s office and tell him you are leaving.

Upon your letting your employer know you are leaving, a chaotic whirlwind, capable of ripping your companies heart and soul begins. It takes over and aims to destroy the very spirit of their core values. Black clouds roll in with no regard for the tears being shed by every member of the board of directors. This ungodly terror rips in, and pierces the very walls of the cooperate fat cat’s’ over-furnished, cigar smelling offices. They tremble  in the wake of a colossal Shit-storm.  No amount of money, no attorney, and no sacrifice; blood or otherwise, can appease the cooperate gods or satisfy their hunger. Everyone (except you) will go swirling down a financial vortex of whatever might be left of what was once a mighty corporate powerhouse.

Inevitably, this company, in the span of 24 hours, has perished. Hopes are gone. Dreams are lost. A staple in our economy is dead.


but don’t you worry. You’re gonna be OK.

You could have prevented this, yes you could have saved everyone. You could have circumvented all this suffering. You neglected to do the only thing that could have saved this multi-million dollar corporation, and you withheld it. My my my, you could have given a two weeks notice. I hope you remember this one day on your way to HELL!!!!!

orthe Two weeks notice scenario

You enter your boss’s office and tell him you are leaving, and less than a week later, The company you once believed only floated as a result of your efforts is doing just fine without you.  It would be just as if you were never there. You will be a memory, and nothing more.

Tom-nardone-two-weeks-notice-6-free-clipartI know a lot of you would like to think that option A best describes your situation. Maybe it does, but I don’t believe most of us can make that claim.

Leaving a two weeks notice is all well and good for them. Doing that does not seem to serve me in any way, and of course in the end, it is all about me, and it’s all about you.

I have quit a lot of jobs. Some jobs I have left two weeks notice and some I have not. If I am not needed right away I am happy to leave a two weeks notice. If I am needed right away, then my current employer can go hump a stump.

I have also been fired from a lot of jobs. I don’t understand why the employees of America are held to a higher standard of ethics than that of “Corporate America”. In all the times that I have been fired no one ever came over and said “Hey Tom there is not a problem here today, but two weeks from today,  you can consider yourself shit-canned.”

No. It never did happen that way. It was always one of two ways;

It was either “Hey Tom, listen man, I am sorry to tell you this, but we have not been getting as many orders as we counted on so we just aren’t going to be able to keep you on the payroll. I really am sorry. You did a good job and we will call you if we need you back, but we have to let you go.”or they would just say  “TOM, GET YOUR SHIT, AND GET THE F%#@ OUT OF MY BUILDING! RIGHT NOW YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH!!!!”  (true story)

When you get fired you have no income, no insurance, no security, no peace of mind, and no idea what you are going to do. And men, you know this if you weren’t already thinking it. You are not getting laid either. Just forget about that. Your wife is going to do nothing but talk and ask questions every waking moment of every day until you get shit back in order.(apparently that is our duty)

What I am saying is if you can leave a two weeks notice, and you want to leave a two weeks notice, do it. If you don’t want to leave a two weeks notice, than you should feel free to leave them high and dry, the same way, they would leave you, and have left me. If you feel guilty then justify it on my behalf. You look them right in the eye and you say. “I quit damn it and you can consider my departure on equal footing with the middle finger of Tom Nardone, sticking in you face.” Feel free to use me to appease your guilty conscience.

Maybe a compromise is best. Call them on the phone and say ”Hello this is Tom Nardone. I’m calling to leave you my two weeks notice.

Yah, I want you to Notice that even though you keep putting my name on the schedule, I won’t be coming in to work.”

I am Tom Nardone, and you are welcome.

  • tom-nardone-public-restrooms--free-clipartYou can join the I Am Tom Nardone Facebook Group by clicking HERE. or Here
  • Or you can enter you email address at the top of this page and click the button that says “BE AWESOME” 
  • Or you could risk never hearing from me again and go through life without the benefit of my counsel, but what would be the fun in that
Help me. I can only spread so much bullshit by myself.
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The worst Job I Ever Had

Living a lie for four months, It’s harder than you might think.


This was a long time ago, and I can’t say it was my finest hour. I have to admit that thinking back on it, I am rather ashamed that I basically screwed over the company I worked for, but at the time, it did not seem so wrong.

Years ago I was a salesman. I sold everything from satellite dishes to mobile homes, computers, and alarm systems. I worked briefly for a company called BTI, and It is this job for which this article was written. I can’t even remember what BTI stands for. What I can remember about BTI is that it was a GRIND. My job entailed going door to door to businesses and asking them if they wanted to switch over to BTI and let BTI handle all of their long distance, and data services. (It genuinely embarrasses me to admit that.)

It was almost a week, and then finally, I got an appointment. I couldn’t believe it. I was so excited. As I got off the phone, my boss walked into the office from lunch. I couldn’t wait to tell him so I said “Hey Bob. I just got an appointment” his response was “Well it’s about damn time. That’s what you are supposed to do.” I couldn’t believe he said that. I thought Screw you bob. It was at that moment that I knew my days were numbered there. The next day after the morning meeting, I was going out to my car to do some more cold-calling. I noticed one of the other salesmen in the parking lot changing his clothes in his car. I walked over and asked him what he was doing. He explained to me that he was doing what he does every morning. He was going to his real job. I later found out that 2 other salesmen were doing the same thing.

The way it worked at BTI was they paid you 1500 dollars a month for your first 6 months. After that, your commissions from sales took over. I found out that nobody had posted any sales there, and obviously none of the salesmen had been there longer than 6 months. Later that day it was time for me to go to my appointment. Bob and Terry insisted that they go with me. It was a disaster. They talked the whole time barely letting the client speak and needless to say we walked out without the sale. They both spent the whole ride back to the office blaming me for the whole thing. It was at that moment that my daily routine would change dramatically.

Now this is how I would spend my day:

7:30am – Put on my suit and leave the house.

8:00am – Attend morning meeting

8:30am – Find some office park close by and write down the names of 30 to 35 business names and then make up 30 to 35 first and last names or contacts that I presumably spoke to.

9:30am – Go home and sleep for 6 or 7 hours

4:30pm – wake up and put on my suit. (Sometimes, if I felt I didn’t get enough sleep, I would call the office and say I was in a hot area and I wanted to get some extra calls in for the day)

5:00pm – Attend afternoon meeting. (I would pull out my list of contacts for bob or terry to take and glance at so they could see how hard I had worked all day. The important thing here was to appear very enthusiastic about at least one of the people that I did not really speak to as a future client of BTI.)

6:00pm – End of a grueling work day. Then it was time to go home, see the wife, and maybe watch some TV. (I would generally stay up all night playing games on my computer, or cruising the internet until around 7:30am when I would begin my work day.)

I did this for about four and a half months. At some point I decided that my time during the day would need to be used to find a real job. I eventually did and I never even went back to BTI. I just sort of stopped showing up for work. They called the house and my wife (at the time) told them that I started my new job today. They were nice enough to mail me my final paycheck.

I am Tom Nardone and you are welcome

  • lying-tom-nardone-maipulateYou can join the I Am Tom Nardone Facebook Group by clicking HERE. or Here
  • Or you can enter you email address at the top of this page and click the button that says “BE AWESOME” 
  • Or you could risk never hearing from me again and go through life without the benefit of my counsel, but what would be the
Help me. I can only spread so much bullshit by myself.
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