My job is so f**cking unbelievable. I'll try to sum it up by first telling you about the folks I work with:
First, there is this supermodel wanna-be chick. Yeah, okay, she is pretty hot, but damn is she completely useless.
The girl is constantly fixing her hair or putting on make-up.
She is extremely self-centred and has never once considered the needs or wants of anyone but herself.
She is as dumb as a box of rocks, and I still find it surprising that she has enough brain power to continue to breathe.
The next chick is completely the opposite. She might even be one of the smartest people on the planet.
Her career opportunities are endless, and yet she is here with us. She is a zero on a scale of 1 to 10.
I'm not sure she even showers, much less shaves her "womanly" parts.
I think she might be a lesbian, because every time we drive by the hardware store she moans like a cat in heat.
But the jewel of the crowd has got to be the f**cking stoner. And this guy is more than just your average pothead.
In fact, he is baked before he comes to work, during work, and I'm sure after work.
He probably hasn't been sober any time in the last ten years, and he's only 22.
He dresses like a beatnik throwback from the 1960's, and to make things worse, he brings his big f**cking dog to work.
Every f**cking day I have to look at this huge Great Dane walk around half-stoned from the second-hand smoke.
Hell, sometimes I even think it's trying to talk with its constant bellowing.
Also, both of them are constantly hungry, requiring multiple stops to McDonald's and Burger King, every single f**cking day.
Anyway, I drive these f**cktards around in my van and we solve mysteries and sh*t.
On a side note, I got some negative reactions for saying I was selling my blaster to get a computer, well that computer is built and I didn't need to sell the blaster (but she's still for sale)
For those who care:
3.4ghz Quad core AMD processor, 2 Radeon HD 5670 1GB graphics cards (for crossfire), 8GB Ripjaw DDR3 memory, 1TB hard drive, Blu-ray burner, 950W power supply. All for about $900. I feel proud of myself.
First, there is this supermodel wanna-be chick. Yeah, okay, she is pretty hot, but damn is she completely useless.
The girl is constantly fixing her hair or putting on make-up.
She is extremely self-centred and has never once considered the needs or wants of anyone but herself.
She is as dumb as a box of rocks, and I still find it surprising that she has enough brain power to continue to breathe.
The next chick is completely the opposite. She might even be one of the smartest people on the planet.
Her career opportunities are endless, and yet she is here with us. She is a zero on a scale of 1 to 10.
I'm not sure she even showers, much less shaves her "womanly" parts.
I think she might be a lesbian, because every time we drive by the hardware store she moans like a cat in heat.
But the jewel of the crowd has got to be the f**cking stoner. And this guy is more than just your average pothead.
In fact, he is baked before he comes to work, during work, and I'm sure after work.
He probably hasn't been sober any time in the last ten years, and he's only 22.
He dresses like a beatnik throwback from the 1960's, and to make things worse, he brings his big f**cking dog to work.
Every f**cking day I have to look at this huge Great Dane walk around half-stoned from the second-hand smoke.
Hell, sometimes I even think it's trying to talk with its constant bellowing.
Also, both of them are constantly hungry, requiring multiple stops to McDonald's and Burger King, every single f**cking day.
Anyway, I drive these f**cktards around in my van and we solve mysteries and sh*t.
On a side note, I got some negative reactions for saying I was selling my blaster to get a computer, well that computer is built and I didn't need to sell the blaster (but she's still for sale)
For those who care:
3.4ghz Quad core AMD processor, 2 Radeon HD 5670 1GB graphics cards (for crossfire), 8GB Ripjaw DDR3 memory, 1TB hard drive, Blu-ray burner, 950W power supply. All for about $900. I feel proud of myself.
