Go 'Head. Make My Day
Well, I'm employed. *puts down dirty rag*
I won't start for a couple of weeks. New boss guy has to do a back ground check and all that jazz before I can start. I'm not really worried about that triple homicide I committed showing up. I don't think they have my DNA on file anywhere in the criminal system. *metallic clicking in the back ground*
So in the mean time, I still here at the home front, making sure the grass grows and the cats fart. *opens small cardboard box*
The house is perfectly clean...in comparison to what N. O. looked like after Katrina anyway *sharp metallic clicking* and the neighbors are ready for me to go back to work. It seems to me, that I'm the only one around here that is a fan of 80's music and bright neon colors in my wardrobe. Never mind that I suffer from hearing loss blasting my music so loud that the neighbors can hear, *SHARP metallic click* and my eyesight will never be the same.
It's not that I give a crap what they think of me really *puts chamber in the round of gun* especially since the bastards have driven all the moles the the tri-county area into my yard and I'm out for a little revenge. *poses in mirror trying to look cool and cop like*
I've tried everything to get rid of the little fuckers....I mean, if the dog can't dig 'em up, what am I supposed to do? (the moles I mean, not the neighbors) *ties on Rambo bandanna and attempts lopsided grimace in mirror....dog barks*
The new job is the same as the old one, just a different company. There aren't that many places out there that want someone who can only work during the day and no weekends. (the fuckers) So here I am, mole hunting, and waiting to start work on a job I had hoped I was done with. I'm so fucking excited I can't stand anyone. *shoos cat out of room*
Maybe I'll just start job blogging. *ties socks together to make holster* There are some freaks out there, that's for sure.
Anyway, I'm off to my own little hell in the front yard...and the back yard, and the side yards.
BLAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
shit, I think I just shot the dog.
I won't start for a couple of weeks. New boss guy has to do a back ground check and all that jazz before I can start. I'm not really worried about that triple homicide I committed showing up. I don't think they have my DNA on file anywhere in the criminal system. *metallic clicking in the back ground*
So in the mean time, I still here at the home front, making sure the grass grows and the cats fart. *opens small cardboard box*
The house is perfectly clean...in comparison to what N. O. looked like after Katrina anyway *sharp metallic clicking* and the neighbors are ready for me to go back to work. It seems to me, that I'm the only one around here that is a fan of 80's music and bright neon colors in my wardrobe. Never mind that I suffer from hearing loss blasting my music so loud that the neighbors can hear, *SHARP metallic click* and my eyesight will never be the same.
It's not that I give a crap what they think of me really *puts chamber in the round of gun* especially since the bastards have driven all the moles the the tri-county area into my yard and I'm out for a little revenge. *poses in mirror trying to look cool and cop like*
I've tried everything to get rid of the little fuckers....I mean, if the dog can't dig 'em up, what am I supposed to do? (the moles I mean, not the neighbors) *ties on Rambo bandanna and attempts lopsided grimace in mirror....dog barks*
The new job is the same as the old one, just a different company. There aren't that many places out there that want someone who can only work during the day and no weekends. (the fuckers) So here I am, mole hunting, and waiting to start work on a job I had hoped I was done with. I'm so fucking excited I can't stand anyone. *shoos cat out of room*
Maybe I'll just start job blogging. *ties socks together to make holster* There are some freaks out there, that's for sure.
Anyway, I'm off to my own little hell in the front yard...and the back yard, and the side yards.
BLAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
shit, I think I just shot the dog.
Labels: things that should scare you
Nikki Stank Up The Room @ 12:39 PM
25 Brown Nosers
