TELL YOUR MOM I WOULD HAVE BEEN HAPPY TO PAY HER, HAD THE RIMJOB BEEN OF HIGHER QUALITY

Thursday, October 14, 2004

Oh My God

It looks like I might get to leave work by seven. Of course, initially I wasn't supposed to have to stick around at work past six (and with bottomless pit of bullshit that I have to shovel everyday, an extra hour or two of me with my finger in the dam doesn't matter a lick) but I haven't been leaving that early for months now. Instead I've been sitting with my finger up my ass waiting for one of the forty nitwits in my office to notice I'm not doing anything and let me go home, or I'm doing something completely unnecessary that can wait until the next day. My job sucks.

Told the receptionist I liked the Strokes, she just kind of smiled and stared at me until I walked away. Lot of fucking good that purchase did. I'm tired, angry, lonely and feel like killing something. This weekend I'm going to have a hamburger and drink myself blind. I wish I had the money to buy some records, there is so much stuff I want to hear. Of course, I could download it all like a dirty, lazy, bottom feeding thief, but I can also sell blowjobs for a quarter, and you don't see me doing that. I try to maintain what little dignity I have left, and it has nothing to do with me wanting to save the overreacting, greedy, evil fuckers that run the music business a few dollars, stealing music is low, wrong, and lazy. You ever see the people with swollen harddrives full of files they downloaded from who the fuck knows? Who wants to be like that?

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