The past Thursday, I went into work. Unshaven. Unshowered with bed head. Coffee stained clothes. Goo crusted eyes. Dirty fingernails. You get the point. Basically, I did not want to work anymore and was planning on a career change. As soon as I walk in, I headed straight to my bosses office with a letter of resignation in hand. As soon as I was about to let my boss know that I plan to resign in two weeks, he cut me off and informed me that one of my TPS reports had an ASCII picture of some naked Jessica Rabbit and that I was fired. It's some serious bullshit. He can't fire me when I'm about to quit. I tried to tell my boss that I'm handing in my two-weeks notice, but he told me I can't quit when I'm already fired. I told him I'd be sending my lawyer over to handle the matter. Too bad my boss doesn't know that my lawyer's name is Molotov Cocktail. (Actually, it's not, but that would be pretty damn cool if it was.)
I'm going to miss the boobs with that noob-hire attached to it. Apparently, he left to get a breast reduction and will be out for the next few weeks. I'm not going to miss the copy machine boy, but as a going away present, I chewed up all 40 sticks of my gum and left the huge wad on the underside of his newly, undeserved desk. While gathering my belongings, I took that half-empty bottle of Fanta and dumped it on the floor. I went to look for the intern I've been banging, but she was out on some business trip and shit. Upon leaving, I made sure to take the paper clips and stapler with me. The company makes so much money, they'll never miss the paper clips, and stapler, and computer monitor, and desk handles. MUWAHAHAHA! Good luck on figuring out how to open the drawers to the next guy who gets my desk.
So, here I am, at the library, writing this, trying to figure out what direction my life is headed. So far, I've only come up with two options.
1. Take a train to New York and become a professional homeless man, begging for tax-free income.
or
2. Take a train to New Jersey and hopefully find a toxic waste dump to bathe myself in with hopes of gaining supernatural powers.
Since I'm not much of a beggar, option 1 is out of the question. Well, Off I go to my quest of becoming a superhero or super villain. Either way, I hope I meet someone who will accompany along the way. This way, we can start some kind of alliance or war between arch-nemesists. Wish me luck and god's pee.
Here is a picture of me with my refund check that will be used for my train ride to the unknown. I had to photoshop the shot so that the actuall value of my dollars wasn't clearly visible. Unfortunately, the flash of my camera has altered the lighting, giving the perception that I have no nose. Don't let this picture fool you because like the rest of the nose-having population, I really do smell.
If I can't enjoy work, work sure as hell better enjoy me.
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