where you stop and think...damn...what the fuck am i still doin here?
sure...it might be alot easier to deal with yer mighty midlife crisis...by become'n some cock-suck'n pig-slutt'n daddy fuck machine fer the perverted and the desperately deserted...but really...i doubt yer pimp would've set up any sorta 401K fer yer future days so you could live slightly above uncomfortable in yer cardboard box you'd be forced into...in some deserted alley...play'n canasta with the neighborhood crackheads...until you decided to call it a nite
my previous employment at TCFUCKERS...where i was shackled to a cubicle fer the past 10 years...and kittens...make NO mistake...it's not cuz i loved ANY particular part of my position mind you the entire time i was there...i was just too lazy to commit suicide...you understand right?
after goin thru 3 boss's thru-out my stint there...my 1st bein' the worst (that i cannot confirm or be bothered to deny if this was her actual company photo) who docked me a quarter from my pay one year...cuz i showed up to work in a baseball cap...not fer a fashion statement or to defy the suppressed dress code mind you...it was only to cover up the allergic reaction i was have'n from the antibiotics i hadda be on after surgery...thanx in part to some A double snake who thought is was funny to watch me gasp'n fer oxygen as he tickled me to death one even'n
that turned every follicle open'n on my Sinead'd scalp into a scream'n rasberry under the cold unflatter'n florescent light'n we were forced to work under...which...in retrospect...i'm sure was highly illegal to do...but i was not gonna be pushed out the door by some vaginal wart with a chip on her rheumatistic shoulders...which was her ultimate goal that she failed so miserably at i'm almost positive of...basically...the only reason i stayed endured the bullshit all those years was cuz i liked a handful of my co-workers who kept me entertained thru-out the self imposed prison term
especially the red head who never gave me head...nor did i make it to his bed (well...except in my head)...that worked on my floor in another department...
that is until one day they told us...at yet another pointless meet'n...that the company would be move'n to burbville...
this was my way off the damn island of miss'n-the-mark every time muckee mucks
i could finally marinate my self worth in my "kiss my grits" moment...that i should'a done many a years earlier
BUTT...more of that thorn in my sumptuous side in the future
anywho'z'll ding...so after i cashed out my 401K and took a mini trip to
the BIG APPLE with my now impeached prez and his secretary of my fan club of 2...i tried to decide where to next...months of flip flopp'n around like a fish outta unchartered waters after all these years...i thought....hmmm...i outta be my own boss fer once and decided maybe i should become an anal inspector for a company that never existed...(but could've...if i ever would'a got a donation to my gofuckme account) then i thought...i gotta lower the bar a lil further...
a cosmetic clown?
the pope of perpetual sorrow perhaps?
or why not the neighborhood peep'n patti?
9 months later as my bank account started to hemorrhage at the seams...
i decided to go back into the bank'n regime and landed a comfortably numb job with a cast of all new characters that i can say i get along with comfortably...and a boss that i actually think is as cool as a cucumber...with a splash of 7 and a twist of lime
i have NEVER been motivated by the almighty benjamins like many who seek that out in their a position that has the biggest chunk of change fer their piggy bank...i just prefer to be happy as a colostomitic clam...but i'll say that this new position was a considerable jump in pay from my last position...where i no longer hadda scrape by from paycheck to paycheck...and my self worth was finaly worth what i thought it should be
flash forward to 8 months later...and i was actually hunted down by my first head hunter...(not to be confused with me hunt'n fer head pervie) it was a supervisory position at yet another financial institution and i hadda decide...do i press my luck and go fer the big bucks fer a change?...i mean...i was picked from a pool of 10...and was told...with my past experience in fraud...they were gonna offer me $20g's more than from my current position...and i didn't even have to lower my dignity britches
tick tock tick tock tick tock...
decisions...decisions...decisions...
after much comtemplate'n and dance'n around of what more i could've put on my plate financially...
i decided after 3 days...in the end...that i just was not gonna become another bitch in burbville for another position no matter what the cost...well...unless of course...they were to offer me somethin' like...i don't know...say...
then perhaps i could'a been persuaded to put up with all the sexually repressed soccer moms and their nauseate'n novels about their kids and casseroles...cuz really...the only way yer gonna get me to venture into burbville...is if it was in someone else's end...fer some change...AAAAAAND they gave me gas money fer come'n!
hey...unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionists of their own universe don't come cheap!
now get off my dress!
