my f***ing job…

my f***ing job all after the break…

my f***ing job…

ok, so, i was all set to write today about the beautiful country of comoros or however it’s spelled. i actually enjoyed learning about the fact that it tries to take itself over about once every six months or so for no other reason then i guess that it has nothing else better to do. learned a lot & loved it.

then i went to work.

you know, let me speak directly to all the ex-bosses out there for a moment, mkay? are you ready? do you have your boss reading glasses on? good.

go away. go far away. you know, i don’t work directly under you anymore. i’m not your employee & you’re not my manager. what do you know? things change. now, i’m trying to work my ass off every day & you’re not making it any easier looking over my shoulder 7 out of the 8 hours i’m working. oh no – you don’t like how i work. guess what? go suck ass (you already did, that’s how you got to be manager in the first place), preferably someplace where i can’t see, smell or hear it. hey, here’s a thought – go manage your own employees. remarkable concept, isn’t it? this whole “manage your own fcuking employees” concept? i know, it’s a brilliant concept. nobel prize winning, for certain. i mean… manage them after they come back after their smoke break, because they take so damn many of them. i mean – siht, they’re out there smoking more then they’re inside working. good job you’re doing, keeping the employees you actually have under you productive by having them outside all of the time, smoking their brains out.

there. it’s out of my system.

p.s. i have a rash on my back. i think it’s karma striking me down for having such a wonderful job.

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