I got a question:
You ever tried to type up something and you wanna say so much shit that the electrical synapses in your brain are going haywire and it overloads?
Well, that's me ladies and gentlemen. A cranium packed with more crap than a spectic thank at a laxative junkie's house and no where to go.
Oh well, I'll just break it down one by one.
1.) I think I got hit on by a chick that was working the drive-thru and Burger the other day
Yeah, that was a experience. I ordered the Whopper Jr. and, when giving back my change said, "here you go, sweety" and asked if I lived in Heighweish(<---sp?) I was like naw I lived up in Pullman. Once again, and fucking experience.
2.) Work: fucking blows. Today I was supposed to work from 9:30am to 7:00pm. Which fine by me cuz that means more money. But then the manager told that I had to go by 6:00pm. NOW, I'm cut down to 42 and half hours instead of the usaual 45.
"But Fred, you're working over 40 hrs."
I know, but I'm so fucking used to working between 45 and 50 hrs a week. Seriously, when I was train operator I worked 48 hrs/wk. When I was in the union I work 50 hrs a week. I never mind the hours cuz it always a bigger paycheck. If they keep cutting my hours I'm gonna blow a gasket and ya will be hearing me on the news causing some "violence at the workiplace." And with the wage they're paying, you best believe I'll be working that motherfucker 24/7 if I got to. Shit I'll set up a mattress in the fucking lunchroom and everything.
And speaking of work, lemme tell ya what I do right now. I work at a fabric store on Pilsen. I main job is cutting fabric for customers, lifting huges rolls of fabric to and fro between destinations and cater to the customer's needs. In other words, I'm the typical bastard that has to smear a smile on my face and pack all my resentment and bitterness in the back of my head. The overworked, underpayed fucker that has to live paycheck to paycheck just buy food, put heat in the crib and put power in the lights. All in the name of success.
This is me.
This is you
This is everybody.
On the brighter note, I ran into a DJ at the Exit that said that he might have a job for me next month. 10 bucks an hour. Fucking sweet. If this comes through, then I'm out of this bitch for good. Keeping fingers and toes crossed on this one.
Later.
PS It's about an hour or so later and I'm feeling a lil better thanks to this song.
Here're the lyrics so you can sing along
You ever tried to type up something and you wanna say so much shit that the electrical synapses in your brain are going haywire and it overloads?
Well, that's me ladies and gentlemen. A cranium packed with more crap than a spectic thank at a laxative junkie's house and no where to go.
Oh well, I'll just break it down one by one.
1.) I think I got hit on by a chick that was working the drive-thru and Burger the other day
Yeah, that was a experience. I ordered the Whopper Jr. and, when giving back my change said, "here you go, sweety" and asked if I lived in Heighweish(<---sp?) I was like naw I lived up in Pullman. Once again, and fucking experience.2.) Work: fucking blows. Today I was supposed to work from 9:30am to 7:00pm. Which fine by me cuz that means more money. But then the manager told that I had to go by 6:00pm. NOW, I'm cut down to 42 and half hours instead of the usaual 45.
"But Fred, you're working over 40 hrs."
I know, but I'm so fucking used to working between 45 and 50 hrs a week. Seriously, when I was train operator I worked 48 hrs/wk. When I was in the union I work 50 hrs a week. I never mind the hours cuz it always a bigger paycheck. If they keep cutting my hours I'm gonna blow a gasket and ya will be hearing me on the news causing some "violence at the workiplace." And with the wage they're paying, you best believe I'll be working that motherfucker 24/7 if I got to. Shit I'll set up a mattress in the fucking lunchroom and everything.
And speaking of work, lemme tell ya what I do right now. I work at a fabric store on Pilsen. I main job is cutting fabric for customers, lifting huges rolls of fabric to and fro between destinations and cater to the customer's needs. In other words, I'm the typical bastard that has to smear a smile on my face and pack all my resentment and bitterness in the back of my head. The overworked, underpayed fucker that has to live paycheck to paycheck just buy food, put heat in the crib and put power in the lights. All in the name of success.
This is me.
This is you
This is everybody.
On the brighter note, I ran into a DJ at the Exit that said that he might have a job for me next month. 10 bucks an hour. Fucking sweet. If this comes through, then I'm out of this bitch for good. Keeping fingers and toes crossed on this one.
Later.
PS It's about an hour or so later and I'm feeling a lil better thanks to this song.
Here're the lyrics so you can sing along
PPS This one too. Even though the lyrics kinda fucked up.
VIEW 12 of 12 COMMENTS
haha
work is good, but I think I would prefer to be a rockstar!
hehehe