2005-08-05 - 7:37 p.m.
Today was a good day.
First off, It's Friday. Thank Satan. (God has SUNDAY, people. Can't Lucifer have his own day of the week as well? Must God be such a PIGGY about everything? Sheesh).
Furthermore, I'm $20 richer. And not because I sold my soul on eBay, or hung out at the KFC giving blowjobs during lunch. Although that's not a bad idea."Would you like some head with that popcorn chicken?"
Actually, I won the monthly contest at work. WHOO-HOO! It involves picking which 10 horses we think will perform the best throughout the year. There are many layers of complexity to this contest, which you wouldn't care a bip-squit about, so I shall spare you. All you need to know is that I KICK ASS. And I'll be at the KFC around 11:25 am next Tuesday.
(Cash only, fuckers. My credit card machine is broken. I apologize in advance for any inconvenience this may cause).
And there are other good things in the air, like the knowledge that we're not hiring EITHER of the two fuckwad job applicants who keep calling the office and bugging the SHIT out of us.
First guy (who applied last year) kept leaving messages for the Farm Manager to call him back "as soon as possible." By the third message, Farm Manager said the guy had pretty much worked himself right out of an interview.
Second guy called three times in 2 days to inform us of his application faxing plan:
"I'm going to fax the application today or tomorrow." (This was after he tried to butter me up for five minutes, and then, most bizarrely, began rambling on about his sister-in-law being on the news recently because she rescued 50 dogs and he'd been helping her out, blah blah fucking BLAH. Whatever, loser.)
Next day: "Ok, I'm faxing it in five minutes. I'm using my neighbor's fax machine. If you don't get it, here's my home number. Let me know if it doesn't come over." (Yep, I'm right here, waiting to see if the application you couldn't TURN IN like EVERYBODY ELSE gets FAXED over, you lazy asshole).
Three minutes later: "Hey, didja get the fax I just sent?" (My co-worker took this call, right after I'd been bitching to her about his previous call. She's normally all sunshine-y to folks. But not this time).
Turns out, this guy once worked on the farm way back when. When my co-worker handed Farm Manager the fax, she mentioned the incessant phone calls (us admins do have SOME power). Farm Manager looked at the guy's name and said "Oh, yeah. I remember him. This guy's full of shit."
And to top all the goodness off, my boss has left me pretty much alone for the last few days. I really was about ready to jab a fork into his neck. HARD.
Then again, there's always calm before the storm.
(I almost wrote "CLAM before the storm," which sounds pretty tasty, now that I think of it. As a matter of fact, I'm sure there are many clams before the storm, if you live near the sea. But that's neither here nor there).
Speaking of storms, it might rain this weekend! I fucking love me some raindrops!
Cozy weekend at Chez de Halo! Come over! I have candles, chocolate, cheez-its, cancer-inducing cigarettes and a bunch of other shit starting with the letter 'C'! Hell yeah, we'll get some clams too! And some CRACK! Why the fuck not?!
(Just make sure you bring CASH. Word on the streets is that several of us, um, "vendors," have busted credit card machines).
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