Wow;
What a day.
It was fucking great! FABULOUS! Elating! I was completely and totally honest. I got up this morning, nervous as hell, I was just going to go in, work a couple weeks, and that was that. Quietly bow out. Then I thought about it, and I decided, fuck that.
I got ready, picked out my sassiest top, 3 quarter length sleeves w/silver rhinstones, silver threading, boat neck collar, buttons down the neck at the side, and a sinched waist...tight black cord's, my Chuck Taylors, my black widow broach and my COCK SUCKER RED lipstick.
I parted my hair to one side, pulled it back into an Audrey Hepburn style pony because, after all, "I am a very stylish girl"...Put on my 70's style big square shades and walked out the door feeling like the shiznit. And I am the shiznit. Because I'm not tolertating harassement and I'm not keeping my mouth shut.
I made damn sure that everyone in that office knew that this was a fucking celebration, and that I was getting out of that fuck hole. I got some looks kids, let me tell you. It was awesome. If I still smoked, holy fuck, I needed one. Better than sex.
I could have let them think that I was leaving with my head hanging, my tail between my legs. I could have cried my eyes out. I could have felt really sorry for myself (like I did yesterday), but instead, I chose to stand straight, look them in the eye and tell them that I DIDN'T NEED THEM, OR THEIR APPROVAL.
And when my boss said, "good luck" and gave me a smirk, all I said was, "Honey, I won't need it."
And that was my exit.
Fuckin eh...fuckin rights...giver...hoser...it's all good. ALL THEM DAMN CANADIAN SAYINGS, EH! Cause I am feeling like one fine mother fucker. Those who can't dig it, can bite me. HAHAHAHA. Except, of course, my friends.
Thanks for the support guys. 
This is what I have to say to my former employers- 
harrass that. 
--Lotus--
What a day.
It was fucking great! FABULOUS! Elating! I was completely and totally honest. I got up this morning, nervous as hell, I was just going to go in, work a couple weeks, and that was that. Quietly bow out. Then I thought about it, and I decided, fuck that.
I got ready, picked out my sassiest top, 3 quarter length sleeves w/silver rhinstones, silver threading, boat neck collar, buttons down the neck at the side, and a sinched waist...tight black cord's, my Chuck Taylors, my black widow broach and my COCK SUCKER RED lipstick.
I parted my hair to one side, pulled it back into an Audrey Hepburn style pony because, after all, "I am a very stylish girl"...Put on my 70's style big square shades and walked out the door feeling like the shiznit. And I am the shiznit. Because I'm not tolertating harassement and I'm not keeping my mouth shut.
I made damn sure that everyone in that office knew that this was a fucking celebration, and that I was getting out of that fuck hole. I got some looks kids, let me tell you. It was awesome. If I still smoked, holy fuck, I needed one. Better than sex.
I could have let them think that I was leaving with my head hanging, my tail between my legs. I could have cried my eyes out. I could have felt really sorry for myself (like I did yesterday), but instead, I chose to stand straight, look them in the eye and tell them that I DIDN'T NEED THEM, OR THEIR APPROVAL.
And when my boss said, "good luck" and gave me a smirk, all I said was, "Honey, I won't need it."
And that was my exit.
Fuckin eh...fuckin rights...giver...hoser...it's all good. ALL THEM DAMN CANADIAN SAYINGS, EH! Cause I am feeling like one fine mother fucker. Those who can't dig it, can bite me. HAHAHAHA. Except, of course, my friends.
Thanks for the support guys. This is what I have to say to my former employers- harrass that.
--Lotus--
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
alpo:
Nice work. 
I'd say good luck, but I don't think you need it---you're going to go far with that kind of moxie. 
I'd say good luck, but I don't think you need it---you're going to go far with that kind of moxie. 
_gone_:
oh btw good on you for sticking it to the boss and standing by your guns