RastaPope
Dead is dead.
- Joined
- Apr 10, 2002
- Posts
- 4,222
Fucking seriously.
So I get to work this morning, which I was way to tired with in the first place. I hate my job. I hate the fucking building. I can't stand any of these fuckers I have to see day in and motherfucknig day out. They like me, but they're goddamned retards and I pity the fool who actually enjoys my company because it's really not worth it. So anyway, I get to work and it turns out there was some damage inside due to the weather that I won't get into for reasons on anonymity. We have to call the fire marshal and blah fucking blah, we shouldn't even be in the building because apparantly some saftey measures aren't up to code. But is that a problem for those cocksuckers up in corporate smoking their hundred dollar cigars and drinking whisky older than I am twice over? Nope, not at all, let them burn. But it's okay since the fire chief got a nice envelope of money to keep his mouth shut until the proper repairs can be made. Fucking dirty and I should turn the lot of them over. Bitches. They all need to get punched in the throat.
The people I associate with. Why the fuck do I even bother? I'm not a people person. Never have been, never will be. But these asshats won't leave me alone no matter how offputting I am. All the people I work with love me. So do their friends. So do most of the people on my buddy lists. Why? I just don't get it. I'm not a pleasent person by anyone's reckoning. I'm a big fucking asshole, honestly. Just how I am. I deal, why can't they? But then, thinking about it, they probably dislike me very much and it's their personal form of torture. In fact, most of my life it's been that way and I really don't get it. What makes me worth their attention good or bad? That's a lot of work to put in for someone you dislike, really. I just don't get it. I have my best friend, AmishPope, who's on the level, and that's about it. I can't trust anyone. I'm his friend, he's mine. I trust that. Everyone else, I just don't know. Half the time I don't even know if I trust my family. That's probably paranoia, but who knows?
Why do I always get in over my head with whatever I do? I can take a fair amount on my back. Pressure ain't a bad thing, don't get me wrong. In fact, the more the better. I like to plan things out. I'm a planner, a schemer. Well, maybe not so much a schemer since that makes me sound like some evil, maniacal comic book villian, but you know what I mean. I so don't know where this rant is going but my fingers keep tek tak tekking away at this goddamned noisy ass keyboard, so what the fuck?
And you fucking plants, you moles, really, I'm tired of it, you're contaminating everything. If you're going to do what I think you're going to do, just fucking do it already and have done with it. Have at it. Please, don't drag it out.
I don't even mind being poor. NOt that I'm poor, but I'm poor enough for how I bust my ass for those ungrateful fuckers at work everyday. I really need to do something about that. Find some ambition. Maybe there's a 'tall skinny white kid with no ambition' magazine that can give me the top 10 helpful hints along with a great recipe for chicken teriyaki that i can make at home with 5 simple ingredients all in one dish. Probably not, because that would make things too simple. Can't have that. People always say if they wion the lottery, they'd still keep going to work. Fuck that noise man, I'd find me a goddamned beach and waste my life away in a hammock and drink me some diet coke. While getting fat and ugly, since yeah, I'm not exactly a prize anyway. I'll have money, and that's what really matters, isn't it?
PLus, you know, I'm no really good to anyone in a capacity that I should be. I'm not smart, but I can puzzle things out. Sometimes my jokes are funny, but usually only funny to me and the AmishPope, cause it's always the same old thing. Why can't I look like Freddy Prinze Jr? Or someone who's the modern equivalent? not that he isn't modern, but you know what I mean. An acceptable analogue. Then it's all be pie.
I love her, does she know? Does she believe? Does she care and does it matter? I'm probably being stupid but I don't know sometimes it's seems like she's all over the place. She's the piece that makes me fit. and she's fine all by herself. or not me. who knows.
But then, I never did. Fit. The thing about dreams is eventually, you fucking wake up and have to back to your shitty life again. That's why they used to call them pipe dreams. Sewer pipes. As in.
And also, I'm hungry.
So I get to work this morning, which I was way to tired with in the first place. I hate my job. I hate the fucking building. I can't stand any of these fuckers I have to see day in and motherfucknig day out. They like me, but they're goddamned retards and I pity the fool who actually enjoys my company because it's really not worth it. So anyway, I get to work and it turns out there was some damage inside due to the weather that I won't get into for reasons on anonymity. We have to call the fire marshal and blah fucking blah, we shouldn't even be in the building because apparantly some saftey measures aren't up to code. But is that a problem for those cocksuckers up in corporate smoking their hundred dollar cigars and drinking whisky older than I am twice over? Nope, not at all, let them burn. But it's okay since the fire chief got a nice envelope of money to keep his mouth shut until the proper repairs can be made. Fucking dirty and I should turn the lot of them over. Bitches. They all need to get punched in the throat.
The people I associate with. Why the fuck do I even bother? I'm not a people person. Never have been, never will be. But these asshats won't leave me alone no matter how offputting I am. All the people I work with love me. So do their friends. So do most of the people on my buddy lists. Why? I just don't get it. I'm not a pleasent person by anyone's reckoning. I'm a big fucking asshole, honestly. Just how I am. I deal, why can't they? But then, thinking about it, they probably dislike me very much and it's their personal form of torture. In fact, most of my life it's been that way and I really don't get it. What makes me worth their attention good or bad? That's a lot of work to put in for someone you dislike, really. I just don't get it. I have my best friend, AmishPope, who's on the level, and that's about it. I can't trust anyone. I'm his friend, he's mine. I trust that. Everyone else, I just don't know. Half the time I don't even know if I trust my family. That's probably paranoia, but who knows?
Why do I always get in over my head with whatever I do? I can take a fair amount on my back. Pressure ain't a bad thing, don't get me wrong. In fact, the more the better. I like to plan things out. I'm a planner, a schemer. Well, maybe not so much a schemer since that makes me sound like some evil, maniacal comic book villian, but you know what I mean. I so don't know where this rant is going but my fingers keep tek tak tekking away at this goddamned noisy ass keyboard, so what the fuck?
And you fucking plants, you moles, really, I'm tired of it, you're contaminating everything. If you're going to do what I think you're going to do, just fucking do it already and have done with it. Have at it. Please, don't drag it out.
I don't even mind being poor. NOt that I'm poor, but I'm poor enough for how I bust my ass for those ungrateful fuckers at work everyday. I really need to do something about that. Find some ambition. Maybe there's a 'tall skinny white kid with no ambition' magazine that can give me the top 10 helpful hints along with a great recipe for chicken teriyaki that i can make at home with 5 simple ingredients all in one dish. Probably not, because that would make things too simple. Can't have that. People always say if they wion the lottery, they'd still keep going to work. Fuck that noise man, I'd find me a goddamned beach and waste my life away in a hammock and drink me some diet coke. While getting fat and ugly, since yeah, I'm not exactly a prize anyway. I'll have money, and that's what really matters, isn't it?
PLus, you know, I'm no really good to anyone in a capacity that I should be. I'm not smart, but I can puzzle things out. Sometimes my jokes are funny, but usually only funny to me and the AmishPope, cause it's always the same old thing. Why can't I look like Freddy Prinze Jr? Or someone who's the modern equivalent? not that he isn't modern, but you know what I mean. An acceptable analogue. Then it's all be pie.
I love her, does she know? Does she believe? Does she care and does it matter? I'm probably being stupid but I don't know sometimes it's seems like she's all over the place. She's the piece that makes me fit. and she's fine all by herself. or not me. who knows.
But then, I never did. Fit. The thing about dreams is eventually, you fucking wake up and have to back to your shitty life again. That's why they used to call them pipe dreams. Sewer pipes. As in.
And also, I'm hungry.
