1.09.2006

I hate new bosses


To: The Office
From: Your Goddamn Master
Date: Evermore
Subject: [Insert 30 seconds of thinking up a vapid subject line.]

As you've probably come to know, I hate — well, — pretty much everything. But I embrace this dark part of my personality. I cuddle it. Feed it soy milk. (I used to breast feed it, but that fucker has some sharp teeth.) In other words, I've come to terms with the chip, or should I say "fucking boulder," on my shoulder. Hey, that has a nice ring to it: Fucking boulder on my shoulder. Ha!

Every waking day, I find something new to hate. For instance, on Saturday I came to the conclusion that I will never, ever, again buy those clear lighters from the E-Z Mart in Stifft's Station. They were made and distributed by Lucifer himself and are about as useful as a deaf, blind and dumb tour guide.

Today, I realized that I hate new bosses. Not new bosses as in, say, a job I just started. I'm talking about a cool boss leaving and a new jackfuck ass pirate taking his place. I've been pretty blessed throughout my young life with cool fucking bosses.

When I say "cool" bosses, I don't mean the ones that try to be my best friend and end up jeopardizing their authoritative tilt on the administrative scale. No, I mean the firm-but-fair boss that I can get high or drunk with after work. The one that will tell me to straighten up or, if need be, chew my ass out for something on which I fucked up.

Well that boss is long gone. And the new boss? you might ask. Deep breath, Spencer. OK.

Firstly, picture Johnny Cash meets Matthew Broderick. There's just something not fucking write about that, is there? My new boss, whom I will refer to as AP (ass pirate), wears all black, all the time. Sounds cool, right? Wrong. Despite wearing all black, he's gayed up like my 7-year-old niece's lunch box.

Ya know, I feel bad. I’m usually not like this. I usually like someone until they give me a reason not to. But not in this case. I just don’t like this motherfucker. At all. He has one of those smug, "I went to a private Christian college so I think I'm smarter than you" looks on his face. He was home-schooled throughout his childhood and into high school, which explained a lot to me. However, being home-schooled doesn't give you the OK to be a goddamn jackass.

Charlie and I were sitting in our office the other day and we realized something. It feels like I'm stuck at one of those parties I promised one of my dorky friends I'd go to. Ya know, just one of those places you show up just because you promised you would and then you go on to a real party or club or whatever. "Eeeeeevery day," said Charlie. Every fucking day we are stuck in that situation. Pity us, please.

Out of the 5 people we work with, two were home-schooled and both went to John Brown University in Siloam Springs, and one girl grew up in Greers Ferry (population around 500) and went to Ouachita Baptist University. Hold on. Let me scrape the throw-up taste off my tongue.

Before I know it, I'm gonna be forced to look at myself in the mirror with tears in my eyes, saying, "I am NOT a bad person!" sniff sniff. Ah, fuck that.

I’m tired of writing. Check out this fucking hilarious Web site: Steve Don’t Eat It.

3 comments:

Lindsay said...

I like reading the heavy posts too, geez. I even write some of those myself.

I particularly liked the line "Despite wearing all black, he's gayed up like my 7-year-old niece's lunch box." That's an instant classic.

And if it seems like I came here purty dang fast, it's coz I am psychic.
*ooo*

Marla said...

Oh crap. Now I'm all freaked out. Found out today that my cool boss (cool as in firm but fair and doesn't judge me) is leaving. I hope that they don't replace him with some spaz. I say spaz only because I'm not cursing anymore. I need to think of better, less offensive adjectives.

Anyway, I agree with Lindsay, "Despite wearing all black, he's gayed up like my 7-year-old niece's lunch box."

Good laughing!

Shannon said...

Spenny,

I went to Henderson State, NOT John Brown. If you're going to make incorrect assumptions about people, you need to at least get your facts straight.

Geez, and you're supposed to be a journalist.