I smell a rat. Something is not quite right here. The week is actually moving. And moving fast too. Is this some kind of set up? Are the fates lying in wait for me, biding their time until the right moment to knee me in the groin? I have long ago learned not to trust women, and let's face it, fate is a big bitch. She's part of a set of triplets. Mother Nature and Time complete this group and when the three of them get together to fuck you over, the resulting circumstances are indescribeable.
For now, I'm suspicious. Its wednesday already, meaning Time is the present cunt, cooking up something I'm not going to like, rushing me towards an occurence where Fate can manipulate and Mother Nature can aggravate. Of course, there's another explanation... The days are simply speeding along and I'm a paranoid maniac. Fuck that, I'm sticking with my original assumptions.
Gentlefolk, something has upset me greatly this morning. No, its not the usual having to get up early, lack of a wake-me-up blow job, wearing this fucking suit or the traffic. That annoyance is standard, its in my blood now, so it does not stand out. What has upset me is a person. And no, not my boss, or the girl with the constantly playful puppies she's hiding in her trousers, its someone else entirely. This person has absolutely nothing to do with my job, thus he has added a whole new dimension to my usual early morning dementia.
It is known I am not the friendliest of persons. As with the other members of the board, I have a low tolerance level, a severe god complex and an attitude best described as assholic. On the best of days, I'm a grumpy bastard, much less on early work day mornings. Because of this my delicate disposition, it is generally best to leave me the fuck alone, especially early in the morning.
Now, I know a chap. He recently, like me, got a blackberry after many months of planning, preparation, prayers and fasting. Like me. It is fully expected that this new gadget should excite him, he's only human after all. Why, when I first got mine, I was over the moon with anticipation. I just wanted to ping people constantly. But I didn't. I behaved myself.
So someone explain why this bastard has the balls to try and chat with me by 5.45am?! Asking me 'what's good?' What the fuck do you think is good, you illiterate fuck, its 5.45am! Nothing is good goddammit! I'm awake, I have a boner, I'm on my way to the office and I'm going to be answering to an unmitigated fucking moron all day. Tell me, in whatever neanderthal language you speak, which one of these can be defined as 'good' to you?!
Why oh why do people feel the need to talk to other people? More importantly, why do they feel the need to talk to me?! What did I do to deserve someone asking me utterly ridiculous questions this early in the morning? I already have to deal with idiot customers and mentally retarded co-workers all day. This means my capacity to inteprete stupidity is already at maximum, I cannot handle any more. I can only speak and understand so much 'idiot', I'm not fluent in it! My first language is english, not fucktard!
If you must speak to me, make it coherent, audible english. At a suitable and appropriate time of the day. My preferred accommodating hours are between 7.00am and 7.03am on sunday mornings. This is usually the best time to have a chat with me, as it is then I am more often than not terribly hungover and thus cannot hear a word you're saying. Within this expanse of time, I will gladly listen to and answer any rubbish you feel you must spew forth. Do NOT chat at me on weekday mornings, the chances of my purposely going online to download a virus and send it to you in an effort to crash both our phones is phenomenally high. I will go 'phonicide' bomber on your ass.
Dammit, even if anyone has to talk to me, it should only be about one or all of the following reasons:
1. Money
2. Sex
3. Sudden public holiday declared
4. Tragic death of my boss in freak milk and cookie related accident.
N.B. It is also preferred that the news be delivered by a sexy female voice, with a picture of her posterior for verification.
These are the only reasons anyone should try and contact me in the mornings. For anything else, please feel free to go and fuck yourselves. Hard.
I feel a bit better now.
I am Womilee.
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