Seems the cat has just about used the last of his nine lives. The boy is hurting emotionally and financially. I guess it's okay to mention my "feelings" malady, because it's 2007 and the infirmed can whine and cry all they want. It has become tres chic, and yours truly is getting a taste of it firsthand.
Not too long ago you could annihilate your boss-via fisticuffs-if the fucker canned your ass. But in today's politically correct world, the aforementioned fucker would sue your ass. Or have your sorry ass locked up.
I would like a piece of those three fuckers who termed me. Especially that rotund piece of dog shit that fired me at the airport. That pompous no-good asshole! He was brusque with everyone and would bump into the employees ( oxymoron, as they called them "team members" ) and never say "excuse me" or "sorry." Fat piece of whale blubber sitting on his ass, gouging his face with candy, hot dogs, and twinkies.
Me and my sis from San Fran just terminated our conversation via long distance. So my rant may be a bit kinder, gentler as we proceed. I WAS able to pen this line ["on his ass, gouging his face with candy, hot dogs, and twinkies." ] immediately upon returning to the computer chair. ( the point at which the phone rang ) So maybe there's hope for more venom to spew.
I consider myself to be a writer and am proud to have just penned "venom to spew." Even though self-serving, most of the population cannot formulate these delicious phrases.
Where were we? I would like a piece out of those fuckers who termed....
I'm afraid the mood is gone. Kaput, fini.' A kinder, gentler v.c. has morphed, he has, from the angry one.
Writing is a passion of mine. It comes easily and is great therapy. Especially for a guy who has been in the proverbial tailspin. Here's hoping that one day, per chance, I meet one of these aforementioned fuckers somewhere on the street. Shirley, I'll be gracious and turn the other cheek, but perhaps I won't and will kick some ass. I'm hoping for the latter scenario.
Life is a cabaret, ol' chum, v.c.
1 comment:
Don't hold back, Cat. Tell us how you really feel.
Your rage is appropriate. I'm not sure I could handle what you have gone through as well as you.
My first "real" job was with a great little company in the fancy food business that unfortunately ran out of money during a recession. No one's fault...that's just what happened. So fast food was the best I could find to pay the rent. You know, you can learn a lot about a chicken in a very short time if that's all you sell...
I found out that fast food was a good way to destroy a marriage, a family, a life. So I had to start over again.
When I started as a trainee with Ye Olde Pic I came on board with five years in management, but no experience as a subordinate. That became my first priority: learning to become a good subordinate. Who could have known I was working under the world's worst boss? I thought all the stuff he tossed around was "normal." By the time I learned better it was too late to back out, and I still had to pay the rent. Four years later I was able to escape and you know the rest...
After a couple of years of freedom I still jumped back into the frying pan.
Best to you. Like any other cat, you'll land on your feet.
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