XVII / XI / MMXI

Right. It's official. Today is one of those days. Not one of those "It's-been-one-of-those-days" days. Nope, not one of them. Really more of a "It's just not my day" type of day. The type of day that forces the question: O.K., if it's not my day, then just who's fucking day is it? Where does the maggot-ridden piece of dog shit that this particular day belongs to live? Why has he decided not to have this astoundingly crappy day, opting, instead, to pawn the fucker off on me?  Does he think I'm an idiot? I can't have a shitty day on my own? I need his help on this, do I?  Or does he think himself so superior that he's able to engineer a far shittier day than any shitty day I might happen to conjure up on my own?  And, before you feel compelled to point it out, I am not blind to the fact that all of the preceding speculation hinges on one question : Was I even contemplating having a shitty day to begin with, and, if so, how the screaming FUCK did this clown become aware of my choice?  I'll leave you to ponder that one for a while.

As always, be safe.

TRS 

Damn. Just time for a quick blast: almost everyone at ZombieLand in blind panic over today's visit from company president (some Texan, it seems) and myself and the other 2 people not sharing in the hysteria must be content with all the xmas shit going on - crying brats, crappy music, false goodwill and cheer, and perhaps worst of all, I, an outspoken, admitted Satanist, had to fluff and trim a couple xmas trees (plastic ones). Yeah. Me. Fuck. Guess I'll head in and see if I can't do something to bugger the presidential visit - wish me luck.


Be safe and don't fall for the bullshit,
TRS