04.03.08

Damn you, stupid computer!!!

I'm tired of this piece of shit computer, breaking down on me every so often, setting its time back an hour every couple of days, making funny noises with the motherboard and fan, and any other bullshit troubles that this computer gives me. I want to break it in half, if only I wasn't such a weenie-man. I punched that computer one other time and ended up getting a cut on my knuckle, which grew to become an indentation after numerous scab pickings. I'm no satanist, but I sure as hell enjoyed giving myself that pain, even though I really hated the feeling of knuckle hurt.

On another complaint, I can't stand my next cubicle neighbor. This fucking bitch keeps correcting me on my English and grammar, like I don't know what I'm talking about. This fucking word/grammar Nazi must've failed to see my high school diploma hanging on the south side of my cubicle. I should point it out to her, but I'm not one to show off, unless it involves money or boobies. Being that neither of the two are at stake, it is pointless to argue with this dumb nerd-a-tron in the next cubicle. I'll just continue to make spitballs and shoot them at the ceiling tile above her, and hope they stick, only to fall months later. We're all stuck in this hellhole and I'm pretty sure she won't be going anywhere anytime soon.

And the boss is being a bitch, too. This fucking guy got rid of the doormat I had put in front of my cubicle entrance. He made some excuse about how it's some sort of a fire hazard. I don't get that shit. I'm here at work for more hours than I am at home, and I'm denied the right to homefy my office space. At least he didn't take notice of the mini-fridge I have under my desk and the beers stocked within. Though, I did notice that one beer was missing this morning. It must've been that cleaning lady, but all I need is proof. It's time I buy one of those fake video surveillance cameras to trick people into thinking that I'm watching their every movement when I'm not preoccupying my work box. It'll be my fake eye in the sky.

If big brother is watching, I hope he didn't just see me jerk off to that 2002 Sports Illustrated calendar.