Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Fuck This Week In It's Eye-hole!

It's only fucking Wednesday people and I'm ready to kill. I'm not spouting hyperbole here, I'm really, really having to restrain myself from cut-sliding the next person who looks at me. Shit has been wicked busy and I haven't even had time to do one of these posty joints  Let's begin with Sunday:

My football team who has sucked an infected testicle up until the last three years lost the championship game in the last two seconds because nobody on the fucking field or the sidelines can count to twelve. The opposing team missed the winning field goal and we would have one except we received a too many men on the field penalty. Re-kick from closer and they nail it. Fourty-fucking-two people on the team and nobody noticed there were thirteen people on the field. It was such a monumental fuck up that it even made the American ESPN. Fine. I'm over it.

Monday:

It's Monday, that's bad enough. Add to it that I have to have an on-site meeting with some dude from Nova Scotia about a water distribution system and I'm not in the happy pants kind of mood. The meeting is going fairly well, we have to do some upgrades on our portion of the water system and so do they. Then, the fucker starts telling us that they want us to pay for a portion of their upgrades because we have a truck fill attached to the reservoir. I should mention that this is after the phone conversation I had with him in which he said that they only wanted us to pay for the upgrades to our facilities. So dicksicle, now you want thirty grand so you fuckers can make more money? Go sodomize yourself with a tv table, asshat. We spend hundreds of thousands of dollars putting this system in and even got the fuckers a grant for it. Oh, and the don't have to pay GST (5% sales tax) which is an additional $6000.00 a year they save. Thanks for the extra work. Dick!

Next I have to go pick up a rape van from the rental place. (why the van? I'm getting to it.) I arrive, on time, as always and guess what? The van isn't there. Well isn't that just fucking spectacular! How about I just wait here while your employees play grab-ass and listen to you bitch about everything under the sun. The only thing that could make this day better is if I had a meeting tonight and had to drive back out to work. Oh wait....

So I drive back out to work in a fifteen-passenger van on icy highways because my parents took my other car. Thanks, I didn't want to live to see tomorrow anyways. The meeting should take about half an hour but of course doesn't as we have to take an assload of time discussing, of all things speed bumps. Specifically, A speed bump. At least I did get home safely and fell into a deep slumber in front of the Saints game.

Tuesday:

Do you ever wake up knowing what lies ahead and actually consider running your vehicle into an oncoming semi-truck? I did on Tuesday morning. Tuesday morning was The Road Tour! WAIT! Read that again, its not a road trip, it's a road tour. Have you ever seen a gravel road? Well, imaging driving around on them, in a van, with six farmers (one of which has no problem asphyxiating the rest) looking at road after road for nine hours. What an ass-blastingly good time. Now, this tour could be done in three hours as we're only going to look at roads we built or are planning to build but we have to take every fucking detour imaginable to satisfy curiosity. Do we really have to go look at a gravel pit? Is it relevant? Do we really have to go look at a run down house so you can tell a story about the owners alcoholism? Do I really have to see where somebody wants to build a garage when there's no issue with it? I should probably tell you that many of these detours are of the off road, variety. Man, after a belly-full of bad chinese food, you do not want to be bouncing all over the place in a fucking van. So here I am, making the odd note, staring at gravel roads and thinking about all the work piling up on my desk while I'm not there. You know what would be really great fellas? If we could run late and then spend an hour giving the foreman shit in my office when it's supposed to be closed. That would be fantastic because I really have nothing better to do.

Wednesday:

It must be Helmet Day. That's the special day when they let all the people that have had brain injuries or developmental issues out of the rotting wooden boxes they live in in the basement. I've had a mouth breather write a cheque for taxes.....to the wrong municipality, a government bureaucrat try and give me shit over something that one of their other departments prevented me from doing, a fire chief who continues to step beyond his authority tell ME that my municipality has to pay for something we don't, various people making me do things that they're required to do because in the end it'll be done right  as well as all of the rest of the bullshit that rides with any normal day at the office. I'm telling you people, I think I'm totally overreacting, but somebody is going to fucking get their shit wrecked today.

And now there's some fucking waste of lung-butter in my office trying to rock a mullet. Oh hell no motherfucker, that shit will not be accepted. Send bail.

5 comments:

  1. You should tell the mullet-head that there's a keg in the back room, and ask if he wants to have a drink. Then, when safely away from other people, strike him squarely on the back of the head with a three-hole punch. Tie him face down to a desk, and wait for him to wake up. When he finally opens his eyes, tell him that you're going to do a little creative hair-styling, with a dismantled paper cutter. You're going to see how much hair you can remove with a single chop of the blade. If you happen to sever his head during the attempt, it was an honest mistake.

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  2. Fuck sending bail, hell we'd drive there to spring you. No jury in their sane mind would ever convict you based on the shit from this week. They may however decide to keep you in jail longer after looking at the likes of us. Just let us know how many body bags you will need and where to wire the money!

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  3. Hmmm ... I'm from Nova Scotia ... can I get summa that gubment cash to come spring you out with??? I'm feeling entitled today

    Dude, I'm some kinda seriously happy in my pants that I do not run the risk of pissing on your shoes any time soon. The wrath of Admin could be raw.

    Hang in ... it could be worse (I dunno why the fuck people say that)

    Hey, you could be asked to pop some popcorn for your boss tomorrow ... it could happen

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  4. This stupid blog ate my comment!

    Fuck ME!!

    There's a bright side: homicidal Admin is highly entertaining for the rest of us... oh, I guess that's MY bright side.

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  5. Do they have Xanax up in that frozen tundra of a country? Get some. Is good. How the fuck do you think I can do No Whining Wednesday every week? It should be called, "No Whining Wednesday, sponsored by XANAX, the happy maker!"

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