A great many things.
This was written while I was at work.
I'm back after a long, silent break from the blogging world. Why, you ask? Don't know. Just haven't taken the time to write anything. That's the simple truth of it, and I stand by it. But now, I figured it's time that one of us (Thom or I) break the silence and add something to this. And since he's currently caught up in his new boy, I thought I'd jump in and have a go at it.
Unfortunately, this is probably going to turn out to mostly be a rant, as there are several things that have been irking me to no end in the past few days.
The first: Twig. The little (literally - I could probably lift her up with one hand - though for once that's not what's bugging me) girl that's been working (read: taking up space) at the office lately. I only have to deal with her for about an hour a day, which I like. But I still can't stand the constant show of immaturity that happens when she's here. Some immaturity is fine (I mentioned her giggling to the hubby, who has "kindly" pointed out that I giggle too from time to time). But there's a time and a place for it. And her time and place seem to be "all the time" and "everywhere". And *that* I have issues with.
She was named homecoming queen at whatever high school she goes to. How do I know that? Easy - she wore the fucking tiara to work yesterday.
Yes, you read that right. SHE WORE A METAL CROWN COVERED IN RHINESTONES (or whatever the hell it is) TO WORK.
Who the hell does that!? Does she crave attention so much that she has to do something so blatantly "look at me!"? The worst part: it made her giggle even more (Joy!) every time someone would come along and call her "Your Highness." Gag me.
No, seriously. Gag me. Put me out of my misery. If you love me you'll do it.
I had to stop in traffic on the way home yesterday because a cop car was coming (you know how that goes, I'm sure). Some trailer-park-trash reject and his woman decided that was the perfect opportunity to jaywalk. And where was he when traffic started moving again? Why, right in front of my car, of course! The car ahead of me was already 10 feet or more away, and this reprobate was strolling along in front of my car as if he had nowhere at all to be and nobody was waiting for him to MOVE THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY.
I passed him by and laid on the horn as I went, because that's the type of mood I was in. (If I had power windows, I'd have probably yelled something at him, too). And guess what.
Go on. Guess.
Okay, I'll tell you. That shallow-end-of-the-gene-pool swimmer had the nerve to flip me off as if *I* were the one who was being a dumbass!
Can you imagine?
Yeah, probably.
I swear... They really need to stop letting these people breed.
Yet another good reason for mandatory birth control.
So yeah - I'm surrounded by dumbasses. So the last thing I've wanted to do lately is come online and rant about it, preferring instead to be at home and NOT in constant contact with the idiots of the world. Most people say it helps to get it out. Bugger that - it just pisses me off all over again.
A tiara. I mean, really. COME ON!
It's people like this that make me unable to stand their presence in general. Right now she's sitting there, actually working for once, and it's irritating me. The simple act of her being here is irritating me. And there isn't a damn thing I can do about it, because I'm not so far gone that I don't fear prison.
I've said it many many times (though never on this blog - yet), and I'll say it again:
I need a license to kill. Really. The world would be better off.
Uh... News. No news. Thoms' birthday is tomorrow (HAPPY BIRTHDAY, THOM!) and I can't post what the hubby and I are getting him 'cause he might read this and I don't want to spoil it. So I'll just say that I hope it's a good one, and that his man gives him something good (heh heh...get it?).
I suppose that's about it. Now I'm going to spend the last 30 minutes or so of work trying to keep busy so I don't launch myself out of my chair and tackle Twig. I wouldn't hurt her. I swear. I just want to hold her down and feed her lard by the bucket full.
Is that so wrong?
I'm back after a long, silent break from the blogging world. Why, you ask? Don't know. Just haven't taken the time to write anything. That's the simple truth of it, and I stand by it. But now, I figured it's time that one of us (Thom or I) break the silence and add something to this. And since he's currently caught up in his new boy, I thought I'd jump in and have a go at it.
Unfortunately, this is probably going to turn out to mostly be a rant, as there are several things that have been irking me to no end in the past few days.
The first: Twig. The little (literally - I could probably lift her up with one hand - though for once that's not what's bugging me) girl that's been working (read: taking up space) at the office lately. I only have to deal with her for about an hour a day, which I like. But I still can't stand the constant show of immaturity that happens when she's here. Some immaturity is fine (I mentioned her giggling to the hubby, who has "kindly" pointed out that I giggle too from time to time). But there's a time and a place for it. And her time and place seem to be "all the time" and "everywhere". And *that* I have issues with.
She was named homecoming queen at whatever high school she goes to. How do I know that? Easy - she wore the fucking tiara to work yesterday.
Yes, you read that right. SHE WORE A METAL CROWN COVERED IN RHINESTONES (or whatever the hell it is) TO WORK.
Who the hell does that!? Does she crave attention so much that she has to do something so blatantly "look at me!"? The worst part: it made her giggle even more (Joy!) every time someone would come along and call her "Your Highness." Gag me.
No, seriously. Gag me. Put me out of my misery. If you love me you'll do it.
I had to stop in traffic on the way home yesterday because a cop car was coming (you know how that goes, I'm sure). Some trailer-park-trash reject and his woman decided that was the perfect opportunity to jaywalk. And where was he when traffic started moving again? Why, right in front of my car, of course! The car ahead of me was already 10 feet or more away, and this reprobate was strolling along in front of my car as if he had nowhere at all to be and nobody was waiting for him to MOVE THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY.
I passed him by and laid on the horn as I went, because that's the type of mood I was in. (If I had power windows, I'd have probably yelled something at him, too). And guess what.
Go on. Guess.
Okay, I'll tell you. That shallow-end-of-the-gene-pool swimmer had the nerve to flip me off as if *I* were the one who was being a dumbass!
Can you imagine?
Yeah, probably.
I swear... They really need to stop letting these people breed.
Yet another good reason for mandatory birth control.
So yeah - I'm surrounded by dumbasses. So the last thing I've wanted to do lately is come online and rant about it, preferring instead to be at home and NOT in constant contact with the idiots of the world. Most people say it helps to get it out. Bugger that - it just pisses me off all over again.
A tiara. I mean, really. COME ON!
It's people like this that make me unable to stand their presence in general. Right now she's sitting there, actually working for once, and it's irritating me. The simple act of her being here is irritating me. And there isn't a damn thing I can do about it, because I'm not so far gone that I don't fear prison.
I've said it many many times (though never on this blog - yet), and I'll say it again:
I need a license to kill. Really. The world would be better off.
Uh... News. No news. Thoms' birthday is tomorrow (HAPPY BIRTHDAY, THOM!) and I can't post what the hubby and I are getting him 'cause he might read this and I don't want to spoil it. So I'll just say that I hope it's a good one, and that his man gives him something good (heh heh...get it?).
I suppose that's about it. Now I'm going to spend the last 30 minutes or so of work trying to keep busy so I don't launch myself out of my chair and tackle Twig. I wouldn't hurt her. I swear. I just want to hold her down and feed her lard by the bucket full.
Is that so wrong?
posted by Unknown at 2:49 PM
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