10:36 a.m. - 2004-09-15
Would you visit me in jail if I killed him?
Do you have any idea how annoying it is to be driving around, minding your business, when sudden random thoughts of things to write about here pop up in my head�.only to have a complete and utter blankfuck when I actually sit down to write?
Do you also know how incredibly idiot in length that last sentence was?
I do, as well as my 6th grade English teacher. Hi Mrs. Johnson.
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Arizona, while currently hot and miserable and a close running second to Hell, is pretty empty right now. I realized that as I count the days down to 2 digit degree weather with anticipation, I am also counting down to the time when Snowbirds will descend on our streets.
You know. The people who become traitors to their own habitat and invade someone else�s cause the weather is nicer. Therefore causing mass amounts of traffic that no one has the built in ability to cope with, longer lines at the grocery, and large quantities of Depends being stocked.
I feel harshly towards sport team traitors simply because their favorite player traded out, and I reserve the same attitude of flipping the international sign of fuck you to the Snowbirds. I detest the way they drive and I think all 10,000 of them that are over the age of 60 should have their own lane to drive in. Course, it would have to be a continuous turning lane, cause they all drive with their blinkers on.
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I was trying to recall on whether or not I had conveyed the complete idiocy and moronic behavior and personality of my boss. I was too lazy to go check past entries however, so for those of you who already know this, you can leave now.
Here�s a break down of the flow of things and what irritates me, each followed with my solution to the problem:
* I�ve been here now almost two years. I am the ONLY person in this office/house. When I was out on vacation, he wouldn�t even pick up the phone. There were 72 messages waiting for me. All those people didn�t even know that I wasn�t in. It would kill him to pick up the phone. I honestly think he would die right there of a common-sense induced heart attack.
Solution: When the phone rings and rings, I pretend I can�t hear it. This drives him nuts. Even though he still doesn�t pick it up. So, it�s not really a solution, but it makes me smile, so good enough.
* This I know I�ve covered. He answers everything I say with the word �Huh?� There is no greater pet peeve for me in the entire world. And to find out that he says it out of habit and really does hear me 9 out of 10 times is enough to make me crawl up the wall backwards while drooling my own spit.
Solution: I�m testing the waters to see how close in proximity to him I can be to answer him in my own way. So far, I don�t think he�s heard me. When asking me if I did something, I answer, �I sure did you fucking moron.� Or something similar to that. The only requirement is that it has to have the word fuck in it, and the word moron. I add other words at will. Again, not really a solution, but more of a salve for the wound.
* He repeats everything to the point of insanity. He will pop his head out of his office and say something stupid like �Don�t forget to put postage on the outgoing mail�. I answer, �Right, you fucking moronic idiot, I�d have never thought of doing that�. Three minutes and fifteen seconds later, he pops his head out of his office and repeats the exact same thing. He will do this SEVERAL times.
Solution: I just stare blankly at him and let him wonder if I think he�s a stupid fuck for saying this over and over or if I�m the stupid fuck who hadn�t thought of putting postage on an envelope.
* He comes to work, which is in his house, in his pajamas in the morning. Literally rolls right out of bed.
Solution: Every time he does this, I leave. I literally walk right out and head to Starbucks. I�m hoping that much like a lab rat, he will begin to see the connection between his coming to work in sleepware, and his office manager leaving for a good hour or so.
* He chomps, smacks, licks, and chews with his mouth completely wide open. Not only can I hear him at the other end of the house when he�s eating chips (which he�s doing right at this very fucking moment and I want to kill someone), he also has this thing where he shoves 10 pieces of gum in his mouth at one time. He proceeds then to smack while standing RIGHT FUCKING BEHIND ME. He�s actually spittled on me before. Shudder.
Solution: There is none. You cannot teach anyone proper eating manners at his age. He�s just a fucking inconsiderate rude fuck.
* He out right lies to all his clients. He never has any work done, people have been on extension for YEARS. But it�s not the kind of lie where he knows he�s lying. He really believes it when he says, �I�ll have that done for you tomorrow.� That tomorrow turns into an average of 3 months. No shit man.
Solution: None. If these motards want to keep him as their CPA and just be mad all the time cause nothing is getting done, then (chant it with me people), fuck them! How stupid can you be?
* He asks me to find a file in which I spend a good hour looking for. He then chuckles his moronic laugh and says he found it here under his desk. Whoops!
Solution: I look for nothing now. If he asks for something, he�ll either find it under his desk/shoe/brain on the floor, or he�ll forget that he needed it.
* He clears his throat every 28.6 seconds. Not a little, ahem, I mean a big fucking AAAAHHHEEEMMM. No cold, no allergies. Just another poor fucking habit.
Can you tell I�m looking for a new job? His mere breathing drives me to thoughts of homicide.
