How did i get this out of shape?
Hmmm... probably because i smoke thirty cigarettes a day and really good (fatty) and really bad(fatty) food with out exercizing.
For the past week i've been having back spasms my guess it's from the sinful life i lead glottony, sloth, lust, envy.... umm... there's more but i cant remember.
My knowlege from the time i spent in choir have slipped my mind.
ok so the last two days i've been hurting so freakin bad. My mum made me call out today so i could rest. i was not amused.
but enough of that shit here's a follow up on my previous little story.
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The Delight and the Douchebaggery
part deux
Good news X (the back stabbing prick from my last entry) has left the restaurant never to return. HA! Thus confirming my suspicions and allegations. I love it when i'm right.
If you recall i said that X was gunning for sous chef but niether had the additude or the experience. Well the time came for a new sous to be announced... X was eagerly awaiting to hear his name.
Sadly i was off that day but i can picture him sitting back in a chair in the dining room acting all non-chalant thinking that he will be the next chapter in the book of F.Scott's. And i can see the knowing (yet oblivious) smirk melt off his face when they announce that he's not it.
Oh what i would've given to been there, a fly on the wall watching his heart shatter into a million tiny pieces like dried phyllo. Is it wrong to enjoy this so much?
So two weeks of balls to the wall work and heavy drinking pass. I can still taste the guiness. X comes in on his day off (sunday brunch) and asks to speak with Chef.
From hearsay the conversation went something like this;
X: Yeah so saturday night was my last night... i quit.
Chef: [bottled Rage] Ok, have fun.
**exit chef.. end scene**
He left without two weeks notice thus sealing his permanent departure. Good riddance to bad rubbish.
alright chickees it's 1:30 something in the morning time for me to hit the sack.
Until tomorrow i remain,
SDL
p.s. cooks rule!
Hmmm... probably because i smoke thirty cigarettes a day and really good (fatty) and really bad(fatty) food with out exercizing.
For the past week i've been having back spasms my guess it's from the sinful life i lead glottony, sloth, lust, envy.... umm... there's more but i cant remember.
My knowlege from the time i spent in choir have slipped my mind.
ok so the last two days i've been hurting so freakin bad. My mum made me call out today so i could rest. i was not amused.
but enough of that shit here's a follow up on my previous little story.
__________________________________________________
The Delight and the Douchebaggery
part deux
Good news X (the back stabbing prick from my last entry) has left the restaurant never to return. HA! Thus confirming my suspicions and allegations. I love it when i'm right.
If you recall i said that X was gunning for sous chef but niether had the additude or the experience. Well the time came for a new sous to be announced... X was eagerly awaiting to hear his name.
Sadly i was off that day but i can picture him sitting back in a chair in the dining room acting all non-chalant thinking that he will be the next chapter in the book of F.Scott's. And i can see the knowing (yet oblivious) smirk melt off his face when they announce that he's not it.
Oh what i would've given to been there, a fly on the wall watching his heart shatter into a million tiny pieces like dried phyllo. Is it wrong to enjoy this so much?
So two weeks of balls to the wall work and heavy drinking pass. I can still taste the guiness. X comes in on his day off (sunday brunch) and asks to speak with Chef.
From hearsay the conversation went something like this;
X: Yeah so saturday night was my last night... i quit.
Chef: [bottled Rage] Ok, have fun.
**exit chef.. end scene**
He left without two weeks notice thus sealing his permanent departure. Good riddance to bad rubbish.
alright chickees it's 1:30 something in the morning time for me to hit the sack.
Until tomorrow i remain,
SDL
p.s. cooks rule!
The picture above looks like something my stepmother might serve up for dinner. Just the heads, though...