Thursday, July 16, 2009

Getting It Off My Chest

Housebreaking a puppy makes me doubt the wisdom of getting said puppy in the first place. I'm a bad person for sometimes thinking that.

I'm sorry you don't like our boss. Bosses suck, welcome to real life.

You don't have the fucking swine flu, you contemptible sympathy monger! You're always sick in the head.

Who're you trying to convince? Us, or yourself?

Say what's really on your mind, and *maybe* you'll get the results you're looking for.

I need them. I don't need them, but i want them. It all amounts to the same thing in the end.

People think you're a backstabbing bitch because you are a backstabbing bitch.

Of course it's inappropriate! That's why it's so damn funny!

At least this face is the only one i've got.

You're making that shit up, and we all know it. Just stop.

I really thought you were smarter than to listen to her.

I suggest you do what your parents did! Get a JOB, sir!

We're not friends. We're coworkers.

The mess i'm in is my own fault. I know. I don't need you to tell me, nor do i need you to list the contributing events.

The mess you're in is your own fault. You know. You don't need to blame them, nor do you need pretend you don't know the contributing events.

Honestly, i don't understand because i don't want to.

2 comments:

Stephanie Faris said...

Oh I have so much to get off my chest after the day I've had... But I'll just keep it all right inside there.

I'm following you here now! (I feel like I'm stalking people when I say that.)

Corpus Christie said...

It is a bit strange :) I'm sure i'll get used to it.

You can probably disregard most of what i put up for the next couple of days. I'm importing all my other blogs here so that i don't lose them when i eventually move on.