You Are Crime.

4:50 am, February 25, 2005

Hmm, isn't it funny that Matthew W. Roarty managed go guess my costume after about a MILLION guesses. Almost made me miss the beginning of the O.C. (did I just say that? Hell no, I was watching ... basketball. YES, Husky basketball, that's more macho!)

Of course, had I not given a plethora of hints, I'd still be on the phone to this minute (4:20 as it would appear on the clock, in the A.M. I'm not touching that pipe, though).

I'll give the same hint I gave him, though. Non-American.

OK, you got me, I'm gonna be Naked Alanis Morrissette (Canadian-born), untamed bush and all. God, I'm really not, but that would be SWEET. It fucking sucks how many kickass costume ideas I've come up with SINCE I bought all my crap. I still think the best one, courtesy of Matt W. Roarty, is Sid Vicious from the Sex Pistols. I also think Jerry Garcia would be badass too. Just gotta get, like, a gray Santa beard, a cool tie dye shirt, and then it's just my kickass red glasses and weed weed weed.

So, this skank-faced hag at work won't leave me alone. In a nutshell, she pretty much just wants me in the back helping her and the other yentas because it all makes their pathetic little lives easier. Yesterday, I got this ten minute discourse on why marriage sucks and don't get married until you're thirty and, golly gee 23 is a great year, probably the best of your life. Now, I don't know these women, mind you. But, when this chain-smoking Russian woman starts reflecting about when SHE was 23, I got the uneasy feeling that she had WAY more fun when she was 23. That could be anywhere from 20-30 years ago, which is the difference between screwing Motley Crue roadies and giving up the snatch to Peter Frampton roadies. Then again, if she was still in her homeland when she was 23 . . . let's just try to avoid any Whoring Russian jokes for the time being. The point is, it's pretty fucking hard to get a good nap in at work when this hag-faced skank and her nice Russian lady friend are in constant reflection about where their lives went wrong and DEMAND I be back there with them as punishment. I presume for my negligence in ending up at a job like this one, but that's just a guess.

I'll tell you where your lives went wrong. First, Skag-face, you married too young, the love didn't last (if it was ever really there), and now you work two jobs to make ends meet. Sure, your other job is the convenience store you and your husband run, but don't come to me with your "I'm sick, please help us back here" bullshit when you've been milking that same cough for two weeks. Newsflash from Dr. Steve: get some fucking bedrest! Yeah, I see you across from me, coughing into your tiny little fist when you KNOW that ain't blocking shit! Now, I've got your snatch germs all over me and I'm gonna be sick next week!

As for you, Russian Roadie-Rider, if you're still in your 30s, then you look like hell. If you're in your 40s, that's a little more reasonable, but all the years of two-packs-a-day have ravaged you well into your 50s. That's why your husband won't touch you any more. And, since you derive no satisfaction from your work, you're stuck with your one and only true passion: reeking of cigarette smoke. I must say, your dedication to the craft is magnificent. Funniest line of the year so far is when she walked up to another smoker who works there and said, "I'm so happy, I found this new brand that doesn't make me hack as much." You know the outlook is bleak when all you have to look forward to is less mucas floating around the toilet bowl in the morning.

On Wednesday, we got slammed pretty hard with work. Around 11, we pretty much finished double the work of any ordinary day at that same time, and the ol' Skag-Face says, "We're pretty good, aren't we?" I dunno, it just seems, taking PRIDE in this sort of thing . . . I mean, it's not like we created something. It's not like we wrote a song or finished a novel or something. We fucking did the same job we're paid to do every fucking day. Who gives a shit? So, the bank system will run a little more smoothly. Big Fucking Deal. Yep, the ol' BFD. Have a smile and a Coke and shut the fuck up. I'll be napping in the way back if anyone needs me

Current Mood: Must RUN!
Current Music: Pavement - Fame Throwa

2005-02-25 08:48 pm UTC
mmmm weed weed weed

I think I'm going to aim for a Billie Joe Armstrong look. See you tonight