This is completely not worth my time!
Work potlucks, or work gatherings, or mandatory work
get-togethers, or whatever you want to call them, are
I have a ton of other stuff to do tonight, and the last
thing I want to do is bake bread for these stupid
fuckerrs who I can’t stand in the first place.
And to make matters worse, I walked away for a bit too
long, and consequently burned the bread.
So now, I have to go back to the store, pick up some
more, and do this all over again.
I could really give a shit less about team unity, or any
of the other morale-inducements that go on at work.
And, for fuck sake, would somebody please stop the
ignorance of the roommates?
If I have to hear somebody yell “You ain’t my daddy,” or
“You ain’t donate no sperm,” or any more hip-hop talk,
which some of my politically correct acquantances like
to call Ebonics, I’m going to shoot somebody.
OK, I think I’ve ranted enough.

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4 thoughts on “

  1. Hope the bread turned out better the second time.
    Those morale things are definitely bullshit. Dad told me about some T3 class he had to go to last year where everyone was walking around chanting shit and wearing hoola skirts and t-shirts with bra cups in ’em.

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