C-Dog SMASH!

If anyone knows of a good day job that I could replace this one with, that'd be great. On Monday and Tuesday, the inane prattle of the people that actually deigned to show up at the office drove me equally as crazy as the brain-dead requests of those that rarely-or-never set foot in here. Today, my ire is compounded by the fact that Plans for Life Outside of The Day Job have been shot to hell and gone. The good news/bad news is that Mr. Marmalade is on like Donkey Kong, though the fact that opening night festivities figured heavily into the aforementioned Plans has somewhat dulled the lustre of my joy. I don't even get that to revel in.

So, my fuse is, to put it bluntly, short.

I, therefore, swear to St. Erasmus (AKA Elmo), patron saint of Ammunition and Ordnance, (seriously! I looked it up.) that I am going to rip shit up with extreme prejudice if the usual nonsense occurs around here. This includes, but is not limited to: my boss smoking in the conference room or kitchen and thinking he's being sneaky; the ass-clown who describes rolling out of bed at 11 and killing 3 and a half hours at the office as positively Sisyphean; further experiences of insane girl dating logic ("Well, I hope he's not getting too serious," "What would give you that idea?" "Nothing, I just hope he's not." "Nothing?" "No, I'm just worried about it." "Seriously? I'm going to remove your uterus using nothing but a FedEx envelope and my BARE FUCKING HANDS."); general laziness and shiftlessness. Unless I am the one partaking in said laziness and shiftlessness.

Also, St. Francis Xavier - whose name I took at Confirmation - is the patron saint of Argentinian pelota players. Why specifically Argentinian pelota players?

Seriously, on Monday I told people that I wished nothing but failure on my coworkers and I hoped that they were incapable of feeding their (doubtless spoiled/screeching/illegitimate) children. For those without children, I pray they are barren. Can guys be barren? Or do they have to be... something else. Whatever. That was Monday, it's now Wednesday, and life has become more screamingly irritating.

Anyway, that's why It's Still Football has been bereft of my writing, and why this space hasn't received the benefit of my wit either. Not that anyone is exactly on tenterhooks waiting for my next update.