Hindsight is 20/20 Proof

DISCLAIMER: I'm drunk. Therefore you may not correct me on spelling, grammar, punctuation or any of that kind of bullshit. If you do, I swear to the God of Kidney Punching (his name is Peeblood) I will hunt you down, tear off your proboscus, grind it into Rosie O'Donnell's anus and re-attach it to your face.

I bitch about my Job a lot. That's because my job can, at times, suck a bunch of ass. This isn't any different from your job. Indeed it would seem to be rather normal given the blogs, status updates, stories and testimonials I've perused. But, just this once, I'm gonna give some props to the bosses that, on a few occassions, make this job the most fucking epic profession that one could ever work in.


As most of you are aware, I'm a public sevant. As most of you are also aware, I'm on the management side of that service and am in a small office that only has a minimal buffer twixt me and the idiocy. Therefore I get to deal with all the Cuntsicles, Twatwaffles, Dorksnorklers and Guntgarglers that walk through the door on a day to day basis. Sometimes I get lucky and they've actually showered.  Many a time these instances of crease-funk may actually get to talk to my bosses (which is really quite easy) but I try to do my duty to filter the piss out of the pool so as to save them from this terrible fate. Usually, I tell my bosses that these people don't need to come to Council because their complaints are frivolous, ridiculous and cunninglinguous and therefore don't need to be heard. One Councillor, above all, used to listen to my advice; and one Councillor, above all, used to tell me to go fuck myself. It is this ignorant, depraived, loutish sample of humanity that I hated. He was also the best boss I've ever had.

In my profession, you usually have seven bosses (yay democracy!) and it is extremely rare to be told that you're doing a good job (much like you). It's not because these people are your bosses. It's because they are so un-used to giving any sort of praise whatsoever they don't know how to do it. So, really,  it's nice to hear: "Godammit I've been looking to replace you since you got here." Now, that statement is kind of true.

Every time we went to a convention, he would always ask a bunch of Administrators: "Are you looking for a job, because this prick is useless." The brilliant part of this equation is that my reponse would invariably be along the lines of "Don't listen to this old cunt, he still thinks dial-up gets you a hooker." Or: "We're looking for another Administrator, please take the job!" To which I would say: "Shut-up you senile, old, twat! No one else is stupid enough to work for you." Then we would laugh with the greatest of mirth.

It was glorious. We had those other motherfuckers in the room on tilt! How could an employee speak to his boss so? Well, trust pervertedness, hate and respect. We knew that we could be perfectly blunt with each other and it wouldn't be taken personally. We knew immediately that if something was said in confidence, it was kept between the two of us. Seriously, how many jobs have you had, where you could call your boss a cunt and come to work the next day without fear of retribution? We started a shitstorm of gossip! Administraors couldn't believe I'd work for that municipality. Councillors wouldn't believe that an employee would speak to one of them like that. We had such a laugh.

So this evening, as we've polished off the better part of a 40 of rum, he told me "You know, I didn't want to, but we would have paid to keep you." And  I replied, "If I still had to work with you, it wasn't enough." We laughed: but I wonder.....

(End drunken ramble)