Monday, June 30, 2008

we are simply in the era of the J.O.B.





“It was true that I didn’t have much ambition, but there ought to be a place for people without ambition, I mean a better place than the one usually reserved. How in the hell could a man enjoy being awakened at 6:30 a.m. by an alarm clock, leap out of bed, dress, force-feed, shit, piss, brush teeth and hair, and fight traffic to get to a place where essentially you made lots of money for somebody else and were asked to be grateful for the opportunity to do so?” —Charles Bukowski, Factotum, Black Sparrow Press, 1975




"My job consists of basically masking my contempt for the assholes in charge, and, at least once a day, retiring to the men's room so I can jerk off while I fantasize about a life that doesn't so closely resemble Hell." —American Beauty, 1999


...My boss is screwing me over via paycheck. I guess he thought I wouldn't catch his little trick. I fucking hate this job anyway, and if he doesn't fix this, then I will quit.
Basically he told me that he didn't like me working through lunch and that if I were that concerned over getting hours, that he would just put me on salary. That he wanted me to take breaks anyway so I wouldn't get burnt out and quit on him. I agreed to being put on salary. Well lookiee here. My "salary" is short. He ISN'T paying me for the break. Plus, I doubt that I'll even get a break since he has failed multiple times to even fill in for me during said break. So now, not only did he deny giving me a raise after promoting me, he is making me work for free.
MOTHERFUCKER.
I wouldn't even make such a big deal over hours if I didn't have bills. My daycare rate has gone up so that it is now technically more than my rent. I literally can't afford to lose that one hour a day. As it is, all my money is going to bills, I have to ask my boyfriend for grocery money. How sad is that?
My boss is currently out of town (thank god for him), so I won't get to confront him until after the 4th. My stomach is all knots and I feel like I'm going to puke. I'm so pissed.

Friday, June 27, 2008

its a txting world and i'm a txting girl

MM: On dr phil he is shocked that this grl hid that she was prego for 4 months.

J: That dumbfuck.

MM: True story. the grls a whiney bitch. makes me happy.

J: Haha well anyone who would volunteer to go on dr.phil and NOT punch him in the face deserves 2 be made fun of by dr.phil

MM: Lets go on dr phil

J: Yessss!

MM: Ill apply to go on tyra for a make over. lets see how big of a tool they turn me into

J: As long as u sarcastically make fun of tyra, its all good. But dont call her fat until after ur hair is done

MM: True story. i just keep giggling saying "kinda like u tyra?" when shes knocking on my bad taste


*oooh man do i hate dr.phil! however, i hate tyra much more. whomever gave that bitch a daytime emmy should get stabbed in the fucking face.

*however, i do LOOVVVEEE the show What Not To Wear! stacy and clinton are hilarious. plus, i would totally subject myself to getting made fun of on that show because a) they are witty in their insults, and b) you get a whole new wardrobe + tips for future shopping needs.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

window [browser] shopping







Oh my god.






My forever21.com wishlist is 97 items deep. If only I had the money to buy all that shit.

::a delve into my fantastic past::

Once when I was about 15, I had one of my friends over to my house. I'm pretty sure she had slept over, since that's all we did that whole year and summer; sleep over at each other's houses. Which now that I think back, is pretty odd since I didn't like people over often due to my parents being an extremely rare case of disfuction and embarrassment. Anyway, back to the memory. She and I were in the living room with my mom. Talking or watching tv or something. Somehow we started wrestling or something that might resemble wrestling. As I started to twist her arm behind her back, I realized that I had overpowered her. And in that split second, that empowerment went to my head. And I couldnt stop twisting her arm. She started crying and my mom was yelling at me to stop, for christ's sake, stop twisting her damn arm. The super psycho part is that I was laughing.

Good god never let me have any masochistic powers over anyone, they might lose a testicle.

Of course I let her arm go, but I couldn't stop laughing. My mom called me a psycho and I tried to say I was sorry over my laughter.

Now, that was perhaps the only time I exhibited any future-sociopathic tendencies. I have never harmed any animals or played with fire or anything like that. In fact, I have always cried over every pet lost. I did kill a baby chick once, but it was a total and complete accident, I swear!

Now that I'm no longer a child, I do have a weird facination with pain. In highschool I use to request for someone to punch me in one particular spot over and over. The pain would turn into a numbing tingle and would feel fantastic. However, my mother quickly put a stop to that when she saw my entire upper arm had turned a lovely shade of bruse.

I use to play drunken fight club, girl's edition. I might reinstate that one, that shit was fun.

I also like rough sex, not all the time, but I dig it. I don't mean that S&M bondage bullshit, just good old fashioned slapping/ backhanding/ pulling hair/ dirty rape sex. Although lately, I've sort of grown out of it. Sadly.

As I grow older, I'm rapidly starting to mellow out. Perhaps it due to my lack of partying and having a life; but it's definately there. All that's left is my sarcasm. Don't worry, I'm holding on to that with an iron grip.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Wayyyy too much free time at work...



I think I need to get a new job. One that requires me to actually do something productive.

Jun 25 2008

I've been dreaming a lot lately. Last night was no exception. I dreamt that I was standing in my bathroom, towel-wrapped, fresh from a very steamy shower. A blonde, shirtless man walked in and after a little bit of flirting, I began kissing him. That's when, through my fantastic peripheral vision, I saw my boyfriend standing in the hallway, watching us. Immediately I break the very hot kissing session and run after my boyfriend. He calmly walks into our bedroom and begins packing his shit up. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, I don't know what I was doing," I keep repeating to him over and over. He simply asks, "How long has this been going on?" To which I reply, "It just happened, that was the first time, I swear!"

Of course shirtless hottie disappears and the rest of the dream is my boyfriend breaking up with me and me trying to convince him otherwise. By the end of the dream, my boyfriend, who has stayed calm throughout, tells me that he isn't even mad. That our relationship has been dead for a long time. And in my heart I know he's right, and that I just don't want to let go.

So I wake up feeling anxious and my heart is beating fast and my chest is tight from worry and anticipation because something in the dream rings true. I feel like crying. I don't want to be alone, I don't want to be single. I don't want to lose my boyfriend.