Post by theredshadow on May 25, 2012 22:04:45 GMT -6
A Day in the Life of a Someone Like Me
So I just got up. Not from a chair, stupid, from bed. Jeez, what's with you? You're already on my case. Anyway, so I just got up. Swung through the bathroom, primped, brushed, tweezed and touched up, and now I'm onto the day at hand. What a gloriously bedazzling day of sun and wind and light clouds with a slight chance of regurgitation. What? OH! Precipitation, yeah, that's it.
So the car is running and I have to get out to it. Wanna go with me? No? Well f*ck off then!
...
Actually, you don't have any choice, this is my story and you're in it no matter what. So where were we? Oh yeah, car running. So we're getting in and heading to my job. I work with a bunch of feckless maggots at a retail store where people get paid to stand around and talk about crap like what's the best TV and do you have any of those HD conversion digital analog movie TV evil government boxes and how people should be shot for screwing with the television! Good God man, get yourself a freaking life! And no, there aren't any in stock today. And no, I don't have any idea when we'll get any. Hey, is that the Burger King? OH! It's your Mom, I'm sorry.
So when break comes along I find myself walking around the store without a name badge on so I'm untouchable. But do you think that keeps people from asking me stuff? Hello, are you listening? What the hell are you doing tagging along if you ain't gonna listen?! Well, anyway, so I try to get some stress to slide off of me by walking around ogling hot chicks and laughing when kids fall out of shopping carts. Also, old door greeters trying to stop shoplifters is hilarious. They just smile and wave 'em on out. Decrepit old farts. I'm taking the bonus I'm not getting out of your Social Security check, mofo.
So then it's working time until the luncheon hour chimes in and I can go home for some lovey time with the computer internet. Then back to work for more luminous questions like do you have any Wiis and do you have any Wii Fits (fatasses) and did you get any Wiis since I asked the first time 10 seconds ago. My life is a living hell in hell and I wanna die.
So then I'm walking along the TV wall heading for the swingin' door that leads to the backroom, my locker, my stuff and the time clock. It's like a turtle and rabbit race between myself and the customers whose "He's getting away" radar has been sounding. Do I run for it? Do I divert into the restroom and make with the whizzing? Or do I submit and answer their asinine question that will lead me to being 15 minutes late and put out? Today it's none of the above. I make it to the door only to have some idiot going out the in door crack my nose with the door and send me spinning to the tile. Biscuits! But the going home time is still imminent and happens soon thereafter no matter what.
Ah... relaxation at the house is in order because there is nothing more tiring than servicing customers on my hands and knees all day. But soon the other half and the smaller half are home. I smile a little, wouldn't you? They're so cute that I just wanna strangle them... with hugs! Ha, got ya! But no, could you imagine if I was like that?
Raising a child is tough. I don't know how I handle her every day. AND a three-year old daughter on top of that. Wow, dudes got it so tough. We should hang out with each other more often, play games or go out to the bars. Why aren't we allowed to by the authorities? What? Most guys do hang out like that? I didn't get the memo!
So sometimes I make the dinner and sometimes I pick up the dinner. Sometimes my wife makes it and I know she's trying to poison me because of the way I poop and fart the next day. Gotta be magic poison. Must be putting it in the chili beans on those hot dogs we ate.
Tiger Woods is a helluva golfer and he has a hot wife.
So the primetime TV shows come on and I'm laughing 'cause that old redneck dude at work today can't watch them since his reverter digi-box from Russia is still sitting in a warehouse instead of in his cart. So I watch and laugh and cry and record for him. That's just how I roll.
Eventually my family goes to sleep and I stay awake. Gotta keep you company I do. I like doing more intrawebs and typing and yawning and sleeping before I clean my dishware and go to bed.
Oh, sometimes I donate some plasma for cash. I'm a whore.
And now I'm slinking through the darkened house toward the bedroom where three women await. Damn shame one of them needs to be put on a potty pad so she won't wet the bed, damned mongrel.
Good night everybody!
So I just got up. Not from a chair, stupid, from bed. Jeez, what's with you? You're already on my case. Anyway, so I just got up. Swung through the bathroom, primped, brushed, tweezed and touched up, and now I'm onto the day at hand. What a gloriously bedazzling day of sun and wind and light clouds with a slight chance of regurgitation. What? OH! Precipitation, yeah, that's it.
So the car is running and I have to get out to it. Wanna go with me? No? Well f*ck off then!
...
Actually, you don't have any choice, this is my story and you're in it no matter what. So where were we? Oh yeah, car running. So we're getting in and heading to my job. I work with a bunch of feckless maggots at a retail store where people get paid to stand around and talk about crap like what's the best TV and do you have any of those HD conversion digital analog movie TV evil government boxes and how people should be shot for screwing with the television! Good God man, get yourself a freaking life! And no, there aren't any in stock today. And no, I don't have any idea when we'll get any. Hey, is that the Burger King? OH! It's your Mom, I'm sorry.
So when break comes along I find myself walking around the store without a name badge on so I'm untouchable. But do you think that keeps people from asking me stuff? Hello, are you listening? What the hell are you doing tagging along if you ain't gonna listen?! Well, anyway, so I try to get some stress to slide off of me by walking around ogling hot chicks and laughing when kids fall out of shopping carts. Also, old door greeters trying to stop shoplifters is hilarious. They just smile and wave 'em on out. Decrepit old farts. I'm taking the bonus I'm not getting out of your Social Security check, mofo.
So then it's working time until the luncheon hour chimes in and I can go home for some lovey time with the computer internet. Then back to work for more luminous questions like do you have any Wiis and do you have any Wii Fits (fatasses) and did you get any Wiis since I asked the first time 10 seconds ago. My life is a living hell in hell and I wanna die.
So then I'm walking along the TV wall heading for the swingin' door that leads to the backroom, my locker, my stuff and the time clock. It's like a turtle and rabbit race between myself and the customers whose "He's getting away" radar has been sounding. Do I run for it? Do I divert into the restroom and make with the whizzing? Or do I submit and answer their asinine question that will lead me to being 15 minutes late and put out? Today it's none of the above. I make it to the door only to have some idiot going out the in door crack my nose with the door and send me spinning to the tile. Biscuits! But the going home time is still imminent and happens soon thereafter no matter what.
Ah... relaxation at the house is in order because there is nothing more tiring than servicing customers on my hands and knees all day. But soon the other half and the smaller half are home. I smile a little, wouldn't you? They're so cute that I just wanna strangle them... with hugs! Ha, got ya! But no, could you imagine if I was like that?
Raising a child is tough. I don't know how I handle her every day. AND a three-year old daughter on top of that. Wow, dudes got it so tough. We should hang out with each other more often, play games or go out to the bars. Why aren't we allowed to by the authorities? What? Most guys do hang out like that? I didn't get the memo!
So sometimes I make the dinner and sometimes I pick up the dinner. Sometimes my wife makes it and I know she's trying to poison me because of the way I poop and fart the next day. Gotta be magic poison. Must be putting it in the chili beans on those hot dogs we ate.
Tiger Woods is a helluva golfer and he has a hot wife.
So the primetime TV shows come on and I'm laughing 'cause that old redneck dude at work today can't watch them since his reverter digi-box from Russia is still sitting in a warehouse instead of in his cart. So I watch and laugh and cry and record for him. That's just how I roll.
Eventually my family goes to sleep and I stay awake. Gotta keep you company I do. I like doing more intrawebs and typing and yawning and sleeping before I clean my dishware and go to bed.
Oh, sometimes I donate some plasma for cash. I'm a whore.
And now I'm slinking through the darkened house toward the bedroom where three women await. Damn shame one of them needs to be put on a potty pad so she won't wet the bed, damned mongrel.
Good night everybody!
