My Job, My problem, Your Solution.
Well ive been working for this store "staples" as some people say for quite a while. I find myself board with my constant disposition stocking the shelves with my insecurities dripping down my spine like a flowing river of rejection and hate. Sometimes the force pushing my lifeblood through my capillaries whispers in my ear "..shove an M80 inside your bosses mailbox" and well I tried... the problem was that it wasnt in fact my bosses mailbox but my girlfriends... i was a little high off heroin at the time i must admit.. everyone has their faults.. if its not heroin its gambling, or socialized medicine, or church. so anyway back to the more important matters at hand... gosh i sound redundant i hate sounding redundant... anyway i came into staples today w/o my name tag on... it was a risk but it was a risk i had to take for my conscience was aching at me like an apparition inside a superstitious man's superfluous imagination... i think im slowly going insane with my constant disgruntled rebellion, coming into work w/o my name tag is some hardcore sh*t yknow? anyhow i just purchased a sniper rifle off the internet and i think im going to launch a bullet straight through todd barry's head and make a puncture the size of a small childs fist... because his stand up pisses me off and im a crazy mutherf**king non name tag wearing son of a disgruntled b**ch.
is this normal?
"Oh, you hate your job? Why didn't you say so? There's a support group for that. It's called EVERYBODY, and they meet at the bar." - Drew Carey
Then you try to insult people who reply?
Let's see here, it shouldn't be too hard to come up with a comeback... Hmm.. Oh yeah! You work at STAPLES. Fucking owned, nuff saif, good day sir. Where's the easy button now you whiny son of a bitch?.
Comb your beard.