you think you're so special, Mr. Two Arms

I'm not even in the mood to write this, but now I feel like I should...I don't know why, because it already deigned to seep into my skull, I must give you all a crap-bath. There, that's why.

I was "admonished" today, by a "supervisor" at work. My co-worker, the chica that I talk to the most, and I were being loud, toward the end of the day. Let me explain something to you: What I do, sucks. I sit there and correct tax forms, mostly numeric, sometimes alpha-numeric. It's mindless. A trained monkey could do it. So in order to not fall asleep, we talk. So yeah, today we were being especially obnoxious, but not "BLAH BLAH BLAH" loud. More like, "blah Blah blah" loud. And fuck it, we were funny. Mocking the tubby bastard at the end of our row of cubicles, BECAUSE HE SAID DIRTY THINGS ABOUT ME. Disgusting. Luckily, she put him in his place, told him to back off (as he said it to her and I heard it second-hand). I'm still disgusted. I don't want to think about that anymore. So yes, some cow-beasty in a muu-muu comes waddling over and tells us that "We can hear you all the way over there." With those words traipsing out of her gluttonous orifice, I smirked and looked back at my monitor, ignoring her altogether, just. to. piss. her. off. My wee friend, Melissa, said a snarky "So?" I snickered. Good old Four Stomachs then told us to keep it down. You know what this does, don't you? Right. We've all been in junior high. It invites more annoyance, that's what it fucking does. And so we become more obnoxious, singing old television theme songs, snickering, planning her downfall, typing LOUDLY, doing everything LOUDLY. She just sat over there and squirmed her fat ass in her wee little seat. Hey, it's not my fault you have no friends. It's not my fault you're so stupid you can't enter numbers without COMPLETE SILENCE. There's a library down the street, go work there, heifer. Yeah, I'm not that pissed. Sounds good though. ;)

My favorite thing to mock-yell at work, "You can't fire me! I quit!"
Fuck it. It's a temp gig anyway. I almost want to get fired now. Why? Because it's probably the last time I'll be able to "let" that happen and I've never been properly "terminated". We're all gone by June anyway, if not sooner.

And this, should sum it up:

BluMcGee: Happy Beltane, beeotch
kitryne: happy anarchist rally day, ho!
BluMcGee: Happy May 1st, Skank
kitryne: happy national loyalty day, dicklicker
BluMcGee: Happy First Thursday of The Month, cheesefucker
kitryne: happy canadian labor day, snatchsniffer
BluMcGee: Happy New Moon, Assface Donglicker
kitryne: happy late afternoon, turdburgler
BluMcGee: And if it's Canadian, it's "labour", stupidface....eh
BluMcGee: I WIN
kitryne: bahhh, i knew you'd catch that
kitryne: LOSER
BluMcGee: *victory dance*

When I was young, my Mother and I would make May Day baskets. Conical paper baskets with paper-strip handles, made for hanging on neighbors doors, ringing the doorbell and running away. Sorta like flaming dog poo, only nice.
My Mother's more pagan than she realizes. Many people, are more pagan than they realize.

The spell-check on this entry was trés terrible.