Hi everyone (all five of you), just to let you know, I’m deleting most of the registered users due to spammers - I can’t handle it anymore. I’m really sorry if I deleted you and you’re an actual person who’s interested in my nonsense. For now, post a comment to this entry if you want to be registered and I will set it up manually (I have to approve comments first so it won’t be broadcast unless you want it to be); though you may not see this if I deleted you and you are now unsubscribed. BOLLUCKS.

I’m making some changes and upgrades, so there will be more to look at. Also, I acquired twistedprincess.com so expect some new shit for that as well. I have a paper to write so I’m not sure when exactly it will all happen, but I have scheduled some time early next week. I suck, I know.

10. Today my boss said, “Thank god for this buzz I’ve got going. Otherwise I’d go crazy.”

9. Boss is bringing his boa constrictor to the office to live. I think it shall be our mascot. You can tell I’m extremely excited.

7. I finally got my free vap0r1z3r today. Uh, best job ever! (Yeah, that’s right. I leeted that bitch. You know, search engines…)

—-Yeah, that was on May 15. The worm has turned, my friends. And it has teeth and tentacles.

We’re back to a concentration camp. Today we were given a memorandum about keeping “the chitchat to a minimum” and to use IM and emails in lieu of talking. Because the five of us “talking over each other” causes a lot of ruckus. Is he fucking serious? Is that even legal? Sadly, it probably is.

Speaking of legal: Snake in the warehouse = motherfuckin’ OSHA violation, bitches!

Yesterday I was taken outside for a reprimand. The opening line was: “Do you enjoy getting under my skin?”

To me this is the hugest compliment EVER. All I’ve ever wanted was to make an impact, somewhere. Here I am, making an impact, getting under the boss’s skin, who will be henceforth known as BTK. Apparently my little comments and questions and not-so-silent judgment are frowned upon. Of our entire half-baked operation, the office personnel is the least liked: Malcontent 1: Sick all the time (because of job-related stress from working under an insecure, impossible-to-please jackhole); Malcontent 2 (me): Talk back, ask too many questions and help the others gang up on BTK; Malcontent 3: Was late twice in two years (she’s smart and great at her job; this is all he has on her).

Clearly the problem is not me, or my coworkers. It’s impossible to blindly take direction from someone with such delusional, over-inflated superiority and an unbelievably massive sense of self entitlement. BTK claims to have two bachelor’s degrees, but unless they’re in cockassery and alcoholic-ology, I don’t know if I buy it. Take another shot at your desk, fuckstick. Keep ‘em coming. Slam the door and kick a box, you fucking child. Wonder why you don’t have a girlfriend? If you finally found someone sicker than you who would actually put up with your bullshit, you are a magician. I really don’t think that person exists unless she (he?) is at least mildly retarded.

The sick part about it all is, it’s all true. I think you only get sued if it’s slander. Actually I don’t mind the drinking. In fact, I prefer to work with the monster when its psuedo-sensibilities are compromised. We used to even be kind-of friends.

So what was once the Mother Ship calling me home, what was once the perfect job and resume boost has become the bane of my chaotic, spastic, moody existence. At first it was manageable. Tolerable even. It was easy to navigate BTK’s moods and anticipate pending catastrophe. I was even able to diffuse said catastrophe. Now I find it more satisfying to create it. I just feel like I was in same place four years ago, and I didn’t like it much then, either. But at least I had insurance and an HR department. The vap0r1z3r is cool, but I since I’ve been diametrically opposed to most of the “corporate culture” and “management skills” I’ve been exposed to, I feel like I sucked a dickful of herpes to get it.

On the positive, I still live across from a 7-11, Shin-Shin’s honey walnut chicken is the bomb, and I haven’t yet gotten my fifth parking ticket since I moved here in March.

Actually there are two. One is that I accidentally hit the back button and Firefox just ass-raped me and removed everything I wrote. Thanks, Wordpress - auto-save much?

The feature gripe is SPAM. I get so much bullshit mail and bullshit user registration, it’s exhausting. I also get these bullshit SPAM comments like the one below - I included the highlights because I love you, the nine assholes who read my nonsense.

grand pa porn - unless it’s more disturbing than the lemon party, I’m not impressed.
overall porn - like in general?
hillbillies strike gold porn - what would this even look like?
yugoslavia porn - I think they mean the “former” yugoslavia.
old man vs young girl porn - lovely. and classy.
bbw teen porn - ugh.
carton disney porn - sweet!
free old man porn movies - the only appealing words in this phrase are “free” and “porn.”
mature fat granny porn - the only appealing word in this phrase is “porn.”
cheating girlfreind porn - not just a dumb twat, a CHEATING dumb twat.
furry adult toon porn - I’m scarily curious.
blow up dolls porn - yawn. I’m sure the kink is a great novelty and all, at first.
horse porn with girls - ouch.
drunk porn - ouch.
hobos porn movies - yuck.
interratial vintage porn - I’ll ignore the atrocious spelling. Isn’t “interracial vintage” kind of an oxymoron?
bear porn clips - This is something I kinda need to see. Bear porn? What in the world?
impregnation video porn - How is this different than any other P-V porn? No condoms?
young first time sex porn - There’s nothing hotter than a popped cherry on film. I’m sure it’s just glorious. And gross and depressing.
harry potter porn farce - I’m surprised it’s not called hairy potter or something equally gay.
half mexican porn - What’s the other half?
crazy ass free porn - This could go so many ways. “Crazy-ass free porn” is cool. “Crazy ass-free porn” is probably a bummer.
not porn sex - The “not” is a turnoff here.
dragon ball z porn quizs - Like the video game?
teen bbw anal porn - Youch (a combo of yuck and ouch)
taboo breastfeeding teen porn vids free - Pretty much nothing sounds good here, but “taboo breastfeeding” is slightly intriguing. What’s taboo about it? Is someone breastfeeding into someone else’s dirty asshole?
vintage beefcake porn - This is where the term “mustache ride” came from I think.
gay extreme porn - Terrifying. And I’m assuming it’s gay male porn.
moms a cheater porn - Snap.
free porn 3gp download
porn video blowjob neighbour abuse outside - Nothing like “blowjob” and “abuse” in the same sentence to get me all turned on.
illegal animal porn torrent - As opposed to the legal animal porn torrents

That’s all - I’m tired and this is all I can force myself to inflict upon the world.

With no class to keep me drowning in activity, I have a little time to let my mind wander, relax, and most enjoyable, obsess about things that probably don’t matter. There is mutiny at work, but this week seems to be improving a bit. Thankfully, the perceived threat of a new hire is likely no more than a cat toy for our amusement.

More importantly, I feel that the focus should be on the dead rat in the freezer. Dude, there’s a fucking DEAD RAT IN THE FREEZER at work. The worst thing is that I’m not entirely disgusted by it, but bewildered and a little intrigued to add to the gross-out. It’s safe to say that I’ve never encountered this before. But I’ve also never worked somewhere that has an office snake, so this is probably normal to those more reptile-savvy.

Friday I mentioned something about the snake and whether it’s some kind of code violation, etc. One of my coworkers dismissed it by expressing concern for the rat in the freezer. I keep food in that freezer. Food I’ve been eating for over a week. I didn’t really know what to make of the fact that my Hot Pockets (and frozen waffles!) had been sharing freezer space with a dead rat, particularly since I’d eaten one Thursday. All weekend I thought about it and (naturally) sought advice from my Facebook friends. The verdict was that I shouldn’t eat any more of those Hot Pockets. However, I’m a dirtbag, so (naturally) I’ve been eating them (and the frozen waffles!) anyway. Plus I’m cheap, and my boss confirmed that the dead rat’s been chilling for over a week, so the damage was already done.

In case you were wondering, of course I took a picture with my phone.

My over-inflated ego wanted me to tell you all how sorry I am that it’s been so long since my last entry. She (of course it’s a chick) knows how much you’ve been yearning for something new. Also, thanks to Cary for the shout-out. You’re awesome.

Being busy is a needy bitch, man. I’ve had practically no time to myself. My Netflix has been sitting unwatched since last week. DVR is overloaded. I just renewed my unopened library books. I’m behind on blogging. My final paper is due Monday, and my part-time to full-time job seemed to jump right into full time. So yeah, I’m a little overwhelmed. It’s like everything in my life is running a train on me with no lube. Last weekend I went to brunch with my friend before our study date (I know - alert) and ran into my boss and roommate in the restaurant. This is majorly symbolic of all the directions I’m being pulled in. Obviously my boss signifies work, my study friend represents school, and my roommate symbolizes partying and hanging out. Remember when I sat around all day in Portland feeling sorry for myself until people with jobs got off work? I slightly miss that. But overall it’s way better for me here.

Yesterday I went to AM/PM to buy beer on the way home. It was for my roommate, not for me - it was after midnight and I’m a nerd these days. On the way inside, the dirty panhandler sitting by the door and I made a concentrated effort to awkwardly avoid his stare.

BUM: “Hey miss, how about some change on the way out?”

Ugh, are you kidding me?

ME: “I’ll see what I can do.”

I bought the beer, thought about the presumptuousness of the panhandler, and dug out about 28 cents to give him. Which I did. “Hey, cool. Thanks,” he said. The real reason I gave him money, aside from my aversion to awkwardness, is because he called me “Miss” and not “Ma’am.” Can we talk about how old and hopeless it feels to be called “Ma’am”? Jesus christ. Bring me my cats and an afghan.

Sunday morning at the gas station, an older Grandpa-ish man pulled in when I was waiting for my tank to fill up. “Miss? Do you know where the [whatever the fuck] is?” I’m sure it’s no surprise that I did not know.

Two Misses in three days? I think my skin care regime is finally working.

In case you didn’t get it already, I’m stressed as shit and overworked. Oh, and live in the kitchen. Also, I’m still “in training” at work, and we’re “expanding” so I don’t have a little space of my own. It’s really important for me to have a place to be, and I have none. Anywhere. I think this is what drives people crazy.

Furthermore, I’m losing my shit. Literally - I’ve lost socks, earrings, shirts, and most mysteriously, a jar of stash and one of my pillowcases. Seriously - been looking passively for three days. It’s like they’ve been secretly dating and finally eloped just to piss me off (because naturally it’s about me). Where the fuck could they be? I can’t handle caseless pillows. Am I some kind of classless rube?

Oh, and I discovered that meditation CDs really do work. I recommend them for stress.