No Substitutions

I hate my job. I know that at 5pm on Fridays, about 95% of Americans say those same four words as they speed off to happy hour. Complaining about work is like complaining about traffic or taxes, it's useless because it sucks for everyone. Work is work. It's the necessary, perfunctory endeavor that we all just have to get over.

That said, please excuse the following rant. I had a particularly-patience-taxing day today, and I'd like an avenue to bitch, and what better avenue than my own fucking blog! Yes, this is indeed the best place to complain about shit. So I'd like to send the following "Fuck you!"s out to those that make my job terrible:


Fuck you, kid who experiences the world through the left-head phone of your friend's iPod. You don't own a fucking iPod, it's okay! I didn't either for a long time. But scooting your desk super close to your friend and listening to one-half of his/her shitty music collection is both impractical and annoying to all of those around you. My advice: Go to fucking Burger King, fill out an application, work for one month, buy your own goddamn MP3 player, and then quit.

Fuck you, overweight kid that dresses in super tight "emo" clothes that wouldn't even fit your 90-lb "emo" friend! We know that tight pants are in, and everybody is wearing them. But when you have a fucking 42-inch waist, you should not be shopping in the children's section.

Fuck you, overly aggressive cholo that goes out into the hall to talk to your friends without permission! It may take away from your street cred, but goddammit you better start taking life seriously. You guys are already 17-years old with freshman credits, because you've always been more concerned about the latest issue of Low Rider Magazine than getting a passing average in algebra.

Fuck you, stupid girl that goes "to the bathroom" and is gone for 25 minutes and returns to class with a Coke and a bag of Flamin' Hot Cheetos. You are an ugly, ugly person. I can't let the sad nerdy kid that probably has to take a dump go the bathroom, because you're off socializing and buying snacks for half an hour. People like you ruin lives.



Whew, that totally feels better. Is it still happy hour!?