Killer Job

When one of your underlings tries to “off” herself during your watch, you know it’s gonna be a fucktastic day.  Sending this latest victim of corporate America to the funny farm puts us down five worker bees in the cube farm.  If I hear the word “schedule” one more time, I think I might commit a crime of dispassion.

Having a sudden bout of explosive diarrhea during a full moon rite after having  endured “suicidal tendencies day” at work really blows.  At least my glutes got a workout, what with all the squeezing them together in abject fear that I was going to spray paint the walls brown if I so much as twitched a cheek.  Too much info? Too fucking bad.  It’s a result of all the sugar-free mess (bad choice of words) I consume in order to satisfy my sweet-tooth.  Sugarbeetus sucks arse (another bad choice of words).

Finding out your cat has tendencies toward the lesbo side of the Force is… freakin’ AWESOME.  I think having a gay “kid” makes me a cool mom or some shit.  Right?

Carpet licker

Carpet licker

At least the day ended on a high note.  Sort of.


7 Responses to Killer Job

  1. Jay says:

    Sapphic bestiality and leaky buttholes? This post reads way too much like my credit card statement.

  2. Pure Evyl says:

    Words of wisdom from the Bucket List, Never trust a fart.

  3. kyknoord says:

    Ironic that it should happen during the full moon. Who says the universe doesn’t have a sense of humour?

  4. Ryan says:

    I’m pretty sure there are states where it is legal to kill someone for saying “schedule” as long as they pronounce it “shedyule.”

  5. cynical says:

    Flufflebuttus Maximus!!!!

  6. Anja says:

    Kitty is a rug muncher. Awesome.

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