fucking worst headache ever and fucking worst everything else
I have had, quite possibly, the worst fucking day in my life today. yeah that's right. I know these blogs are supposed to be happy and talk about all the wonderful things going on, and sometimes that's exactly what I'll write. but not today. today sucks ass. so at least I'm honest eh?
so one of the construction guys that worked on my attic stole some things from me. took it right out of a trunk of momentos. the same trunk of momentos where I have precious photos of my high school sweetheart, my judo belt from when I was 7 fucking years old, the bottle I fed my son with when he was a baby.... very.... precious.... personal... items. Which meant he had to go looking though my very personal precious things in order to find what he took. SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO NOT FUCKING COOL!!!!!!!!. and then there's work.... don't even get me started. I think I have to fire everyone. really. and start over. I'm going after millionaires not piss ants for clients and if they can't get that and take it seriously, then they really need to work elsewhere. they really do. I mean really. all they are concerned about is whether or not there's going to be a bonus. and my head just won't stop throbbing. oh yeah... then there's the damn match chicks. flake after flake after flake after flake after flake.. who was it that said "if I wanted a friend, I'd get a damn dog". good words.
ok end rant. good thing I have a new musical project in the works.
ok now for the readers poll.... pick a band name. how about:
strumpet, promiscuous harlot, more attorneys, trusty squeegie, my militant chineese outhouse
call in your vote now!
I have had, quite possibly, the worst fucking day in my life today. yeah that's right. I know these blogs are supposed to be happy and talk about all the wonderful things going on, and sometimes that's exactly what I'll write. but not today. today sucks ass. so at least I'm honest eh?
so one of the construction guys that worked on my attic stole some things from me. took it right out of a trunk of momentos. the same trunk of momentos where I have precious photos of my high school sweetheart, my judo belt from when I was 7 fucking years old, the bottle I fed my son with when he was a baby.... very.... precious.... personal... items. Which meant he had to go looking though my very personal precious things in order to find what he took. SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO NOT FUCKING COOL!!!!!!!!. and then there's work.... don't even get me started. I think I have to fire everyone. really. and start over. I'm going after millionaires not piss ants for clients and if they can't get that and take it seriously, then they really need to work elsewhere. they really do. I mean really. all they are concerned about is whether or not there's going to be a bonus. and my head just won't stop throbbing. oh yeah... then there's the damn match chicks. flake after flake after flake after flake after flake.. who was it that said "if I wanted a friend, I'd get a damn dog". good words.
ok end rant. good thing I have a new musical project in the works.
ok now for the readers poll.... pick a band name. how about:
strumpet, promiscuous harlot, more attorneys, trusty squeegie, my militant chineese outhouse
call in your vote now!