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Tuesday, January 10, 2006

h8 iz gr8

Because nothing says, "No, screw *you*, jackass!" like an imaginary letter to someone you've never actually met face-to-face.
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Let the long segue into meaningless drivel begin:

My brother-in-law and I work for the same company, except we're in different departments and he's a supervisor and I'm...uh, not. I see him a lot at work, because we are working similar shifts at the moment and I'm trying to quit smoking, so I no longer go outside to the smoking areas on my breaks and lunch. Instead, I often go to his department and chop it up over there for a bit. It amuses me, because, well, Dave's an amusing guy, but also he refers to me as his sister around his supervisees (as opposed to his sister-in-law), which probably really confused people at first, because he's pretty much the main the reason why my nieces are so white.

But you can't really blame a guy for trying to do his part for the Mulatto Revolution, now can you? That's why they call him White Chocolate, soldier for the cause.

Awhile back, Dave mentioned to me that he thinks I spend entirely too much time on my blog talking about how much I hate work. Well, maybe I do and maybe I don't. However, I know for a fact, Mr. "Is-it-wrong-that-I-had-a-dream-about-being-at-work-where-I- stand-up-and-piss-all-over-everyone-and-everything?", you hate it there just as much, if not more, than I do. But hey, it keeps food on the table, which in turn shuts your kids' least temporarily.

And to answer your question, there is nothing wrong with your dream. For as we all know, dream urine and digital urine are (for all intents and purposes) one and the same. There's just some information you should keep to yourself, lest it get into the wrong hands.

Anyway, in the grand tradition of "An Open Letter to ____" (as seen in Aliya's LiveJournal Parts 1, 2, and 3; Cupcake's plea to the makers of Law & Order; and Won's deceptively titled Karstadt rant) , I have a few things I would like to get off of my chest concerning some of the customers that tie up my phone line on a daily basis.

So, go ahead Dave, say what you will. Just remember...

Oh, this picture is still very funny to me
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Dear People Who Can't Figure Out The GPS System In Their Rental Car,

I'm sorry your device doesn't always acquire enough satellite signals for you get directions. This does not change the fact that your in-car navigational system is not a tracking device. So, no...I can't just "push a button" and see where you're at on my computer. If I could, I'd come out there and get you myself. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask that if you insist on calling me...get out of your car, find a street sign, read off the name to me. While you're at it, how 'bout a cross street and a city and a state or province. Better yet, get off the phone with someone who is more than likely anywhere from a few hundred to a few thousand miles away from you and go ask for directions at a gas station or something, 'cause all I got is Google Maps and a bad sense of direction. Seriously, I still get lost in Oklahoma City and I grew up here.

Besides, is getting lost so bad? I maintain that it isn't. Certainly not bad enough to warrant the profanity. Anyway, the sooner you realize that if you stop calling me, I'll stop giving you bullshit directions, the better it will be for the both of us.

Eat a dick,


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