Tuesday, March 30, 2004

With the Hate

Apparently my dept hates me. Apparently, I'm the dept whore. And to top it all off, I'm quite the f'in bitch.

I like the bitch part. I work hard for it. Very few, if none, successful women have made it to the top without having been a bitch to someone along the way. I'm just starting early and I do not tolerate idiots.

As for the hate, eeh, these people don't know hate.. Hate hasn't reached through the phone and asked if my company decided to turn off her electricity by way of the gremlins(TM) in her iMac. Yeah. Try that one.

As for being a whore? Well shooo, someone should have told me earlier. I'm missing out on what the other "me" is doing.

Ofcourse I hear this shit daily. I hear it most often from Mr. Flowers the Bespectacled Spineless Garden Gnome and Red-Beard. They need drama in their life to keep their pubics growing, so I let them be. As for the whore comments, these come from the nameless weather beaten redneck faces spitting cancer juices into coke bottles. They have little else to amuse themselves with than drunken phonecalls with one hand holding the sprint phone and one hand on their SPAM.

I learned the art of hate through someone who was once a good friend. I grin to think what an impact little o' me could have on the lives of these wonderfully cartoon-like creatures. Hear this Mr. Burns and Ms. MaCray, cross me again and you'll feel it this time.

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