Friday, July 08, 2005

Really? That's nice. Now BLOW ME.

So.
Please don't whine to me over the phone that my company doesn't let you make any money. If you knew how to do your job right, you could make money. But don't whine to me about it BECAUSE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE FOR ME TO GIVE LESS OF A SHIT.

Please don't whine to me about how hard it is to do data-entry all day. I'm sure it must be hard having that whiny-assed voice that grates on my VERY LAST NERVE and driving your brand new car with DVD AND NAV SYSTEMS that you bought on your DATA ENTRY PAYCHECK. Please, keep talking, BECAUSE I MAY STAB YOU IN THE EYE.

And you, the one that chats on the phone all day, GET OFF THE FUCKING PHONE SO THE REST OF US DON'T HAVE TO TAKE UP YOUR SLACK. Mouth breathing lazy-ass skank.
And OHMIGOD she's on the phone AGAIN. He DOESN'T LIKE YOU. GIVE IT UP.

Also, I hate peanut butter. I hate peanut butter in ANY form. This includes peanut butter cookies. Stop buying peanut butter cookies as a motivator for me, and the rest of my coworkers, to do our jobs. BUY BROWNIES. I'll blow you for brownies.

My hand, it is shaking. I'm that tired. I need a day off. A whole day where I don't have to get up and wash clothes, clean the bathroom, clean the kitchen, sweep the house, scoop cat litter, return things to Target, etc, etc. A day where these things have already been taken care of and I can relax on my lawn chair on my back porch and watch my neighbors cats watching the squirrel watching the cats while it eats the cat's food.

Also, the fact that I went "camping" last weekend for The Fouth does not mean I had days off. I was hot, sweaty and I've still got a crick in my neck from sleeping on the ground.

3 comments:

Chris said...

Wow I need to get a job where you work so I can get a new car. It must pay way better then the job I have now. I promise if I get the jog I will bring brownies!

meghansdiscontent said...

Honey, I would feel more sorry for you . . .but you should have been the uber bitch you are with the rest of us and said:

"Camping, sweet jesus mary mother of god, are you out of your fucking gourd?? It's ARKANSAS in the summer. For one moment, let us ignore the heat that allows one to fry eggs on sidewalks. Let's think about the millions of other 'camping' things that offend me. Sleeping on the ground. In a tent. Sans air conditioning. Throw in the billions of mosquitoes that live near the water. Toss in the miles and miles from civilization (also known in the South as Wal-Mart). Oh yeah, and that pesky bit about people I don't know trying to start up mundane conversations. Hmm . . . camping . . . wasn't THAT Sartre's idea of hell (screw that 'other people' idea until I get to work)."

Jbsss said...

*Bakes 1000 brownies* "Ummmm where do I send these?"