Dear Customers,
I’m proud to say, I made it through the holidays without a without much of a body count.
That said, you’re on notice. I’m stretched tighter than Rush Limbaugh’s pants after a weekend pills n liquor bender.
I may fucking snap at any moment right now.
Fuck. You.
*******
To adopt a more “positive outlook on life” (shut the fuck up), I’ve decided to share An Awesome Thing From This Week ™. This week:
My cowworker (you read right. It isn’t a typo. She’s a fucking cow.) wrote a poem about our place of employment and left it on the table in the breakroom.
Yep.
A poem.
A motherfucking poem. Jumpin’ jesus on a pogo stick. I can’t make this shit up.
And yep. My phone doesn’t have a camera so I have no way of getting it out into the world, where it ought to be, save for texting a line of it every day to my bff, with the hopes that she will transcribe in careful calligraphy strokes onto handmade parchment in purple ink crushed from the shells of rare snails.
Because the poem is seriously. Just. That. Good.
Stay tuned, faithful readers. All 5 of you.
PS: Also this week, a 9 year-old told me her dream in life is to sew clothes and give them away to poor people, and that this is a plan she and her friends discussed. OMG. Seriously, my heart grew like 100x like that scene from the Grinch Who Stole Christmas because this fucking kid made my day.
But whatevs, I know the 5 of you don’t read to hear what fucking makes me happy.
10. Your (few nice) coworkers no longer worry that you’re being beaten by a significant other when they see the bruises on your bare legs on Casual Friday. They think it is hilarious when you say you fell in the shower whilst skunked and tangled in your socks, and have instead chosen to believe that you’re just a clumsy person who took up rollerblading over the weekend.
9. It is only Tuesday and you’ve already gone through half of the big bottle of Absolut because it was on sale at the liquor store. AND it was somehow cheaper than the jug of Kalatchnakayakovakillmeplease with the E-Z pour spout.
8. You don’t even like vodka, you like whiskey. But you were too buzzed to get to Trader Joes (2 Buck Chuck, y’all!) and you’re watching your pennies these days, so vodka it is.
7. You drink the vodka straight while watching Intervention and wishing that you could get enough of an addiction that would merit 60-90 days in a treatment facility only because it would mean:
a. not having to go to work
b. maybe even seeing if your family/friends actually care about you enough to make fools of themselves on national tv.
c. guilting someone into paying for a nice Indian dinner-all the courses, dammit- to celebrate your release.
6. You find an old bottle of blackberry liquor and peppermint schnaps way in the back of the fridge behind the Frank’s and your roommate’s mashed potatoes. Party tiiiiime!
5. (But seriously, look at me. Can you picture this on rollerblades?)
4. You read anorexic blogs in hopes of developing an eating disorder if only it would stop you from drinking so damn much.
3. But at least vodka only has about 60 calories per shot.
2. And if you cut the vodka with water, you can totally stretch it out til like Thursday.
1. Fusck it, fucking wheres the tAcoBell and why donnt they fukking deliver?
Just took some time to move to an area with an even worse job market, fail at life and find a new job to hate. But mostly just fail at life.
So, yeah, I guess this blog will in fact continue.
And you thought I’d moved on and found personal happiness. Pfffft.
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