Archive for March, 2007

Argle bargle!

Published
by
Anonymous Coworker
on March 15, 2007 @ 10:09 am
in beer, bitches, devil cat, food and work
. 14 Comments

I’m so wired right now! I’m full of slight tension and mild anxiety! For no reason! I’m not really sure why I’m like this, except that I have a bunch of little things to do, and I can’t decide which one to do first because once I start doing it I know I’ll be interrupted by one of my back to back customer meetings today! I wouldn’t even have had time to write this had I not sped through the last appointment! I keep using exclamation points to express how keyed up I am!

I think this also has to do with the fact that I’m taking off work tomorrow! But it’s not like I actually get to not work! I have meeting that I have to call into! And I have to blog for work, which, it turns out, hasn’t been as much fun as I originally anticipated! Instead of casual blather like this, it’s more a corporate tool! Which makes me feel like a corporate tool! Which makes it no fun!

Eh, fuck. That exclamation bullshit gets tired almost as quick as that emo bullshit does. So let’s see, what am I going to do with my extended weekend? I’m not sure. I have an exciting list of things to do like “Seed the lawn” and “re-pot plants”, and I’m not sure if mankind has created a pair of pants that will contain my excitement, but I might dare to get my hair cut as well.

Saturday I have to help my brother move, but it’s also St. Patrick’s day, and I already have my plan laid out:

1) Breakfast of Lucky Charms, Guinness, whiskey
2) Lunch of potatoes, cabbage, and ham (’cause I don’t eat beef), Guinness, whiskey
3) Guinness, whiskey
4) Wuiness, ghiskey
5) “My mother was a saint!”
6) Hospital
7) Prison

After that, who the fuck knows. Chances are there will be some homework in there, and some cleaning of the house. Can you stand it? Can you fucking stand it?! It’s like liquid joy is oozing out of your screen right now, isn’t it? Well, if it is you’d better cut back on the LSD.

Oh, I also feel it’s important to mention that yesterday I walked past the bathroom where we keep the litterbox and it smelled like the hippo house at the zoo. I don’t know what my cats eat, but they must be sneaking out of the house and gorging their fat little bellies on the grease trap behind the Double T Diner. It would explain their near coma-levels of lethargy.

I wish my lawn was emo so it would cut itself

Published
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Anonymous Coworker
on March 13, 2007 @ 9:30 am
in uncategorized
. 24 Comments

Mood: Despondent
Listening To: The sounds of my own poetry played backwards over a din of rabbits being slaughtered.

O, harsh cruel world! How you have once again driven me to sadness. My tears slide silently down my face, momentarily stopping at my chin before hurling themselves off the precipice, ending their blighted existence once and for all. How it must feel to be created for the sole purpose of the expression of disillusionment wrought sadness. One can only wish.

My world has been rent from my very grasp, violated in front of me, and thrown back broken and destroyed. My sorrow knows no limits, and the from the very blackness of my soul no light could escape god damn this emo shit is so hard to keep writing after a while

I can’t believe how many idiots write like that. MySpace is crawling with them. It’s like 50% pornspam, 49% emo jerkoffs, and 1% other people. And to be honest, I prefer the pornspam.

I am kinda pissed, but not to the point of starting a whiny-ass-bitch blog about how Social Services keeps taking my kid away every time I try to sell him for meth. I’ll leave that to Karla. I’m pissed because I fucked up my first statistics exam. I got a 74.5 out of 100, and it makes me feel like a fucking idiot. I’m going to go over the exam with my professor, and I’m pretty sure I know which questions I got wrong. But what this really means is that I have to double my efforts towards studying if I want to get an A, and more studying means less time on the internet.

Stupid statistics. Why don’t you go find the standard deviation of my balls?

Do I digress? Do I ever.

Published
by
Anonymous Coworker
on March 12, 2007 @ 9:40 am
in Mrs. ACW, atheism!, beer, food and money
. 22 Comments

This weekend Mrs. ACW and I replaced all the lightbulbs in our house with compact fluorescent ones. And when I say “Mrs. ACW and I” what I mean is “I replaced all the lightbulbs in the house while Mrs. ACW laid around and ate bon bons, and even then she barely had the energy to lift the remote to channel surf.”

I’m just kidding. Mrs. ACW wasn’t eating bon bons. She gave up chocolate for Lent. She was actually just taking hits off a crack pipe.

I’m just kidding. She actually gave up chocolate for Lent, but she wasn’t smoking crack. It was PCP. Seriously. She loves Angel Dust. Anyway, you might think to yourself, “Self, I should probably take my hand off my genitals and pay attention to this little blog here in front of me.” And I’d say, yes, eww, please stop that. Now that your head is clear you might say to yourself, “Self, I thought ACW was an avowed atheist. He even has a category for athesim, and it features an exclamation point. Why would his wife participate in a Lenten sacrifice?” The answer may surprise you. Actually it probably won’t. In fact, I would say that if the answer DOES surprise you, you should probably get out more.

So anyway, both Mrs. ACW and I are recovering Catholics. However, she apparently has enough Catholic guilt leftover to feel disappointed in herself if she cheats and eats some chocolate. She also gave up drinking, which means that liquor stores in the area are flooded with overstock of Wild Turkey, Mad Dog 20/20, and Boone’s Farm wine.

On the other hand, I gave up Catholicism for Lent about 10 years ago, and I’ve never felt better (My family doesn’t find that joke very funny.) so while Mrs. ACW struggles, I laugh and carouse in a drunken chocolate-smeared revelry. Which brings me to my point.

We are now using, at full capacity, about 500 fewer watts than we were before we switched bulbs, and I have no idea what to do with the old bulbs.

I was specifically thinking of Lucky Charms

Published
by
Anonymous Coworker
on March 9, 2007 @ 10:31 am
in POS Tercel, bitches, driving, potty humor and work
. 10 Comments

This morning I was driving to work and found myself behind a slow moving vehicle. Having recently changed my philosophy about driving I didn’t aggressively cut around the van in front of me, slow down and block its path forcing it to stop, drag the owner from the driver’s seat and beat him to death with a tire iron on the side of the road before collecting his head, setting his van ablaze and pushing it over an embankment before skewering his decapitated visage (his face still locked in the slack-jawed and glassy eyed countenance which typified his slothful and slovenly existence) onto the front of my Tercel, creating a hood ornament fit for a KISS Army brunch. Instead I simply checked my mirrors, noticed that there was only one car in the distance, and merged to pass the van.

Seconds later my car’s tailpipe was being sodomized by the front end of the car I had seen in the distance. I could now tell from the custom stitching in the headrest of the upholstery of the car behind me that I was being tailgated by a douchebag in a Dodge Avenger. I estimated that there was about 6 inches between my bumper and the douchebag’s. Good thing we were going 65.

The old me would have slammed on the brakes after unbuckling my seatbelt, launching myself backward at the moment of impact, blasting through rear window, and then his windshield, a furious flurry or fists and teeth, only finding satisfaction upon eating through his ribcage and devouring his still-beating heart just before he slipped into shock. The new me instead got back over into the right lane in front of the van as soon as it was safe to do so. The douchebag didn’t let up for a moment, and passed me slowly so he could stare me down.

His car was clean, his windows were tinted, and for some idiotic reasons he was driving on what looked like z-rated tires… three of them. His right rear tire was not z rated, nor s rated, nor even h rated. It was a donut. And oh how I laughed.

For those of you who don’t live in areas as congested as the Baltimore-Washington corridor, I should explain that the morning commute can very quickly become an absurd dick-measuring contest with every manner of mongoloid trying to flex nuts. It amounts to nothing more than aggressive driving, speeding, cutting people off, and generally being a huge cock of a human. For me, it had just become surreal. This guy rolled up to a metaphorical dick measuring contest, talking a bunch of shit and acting so douchey that he could out-douche an automatic doucheing machine on the douchingest day of its life. But when he whips it out, nobody notices the dong, and everyone instead stares at the clear plastic bag of marshmallow cereal where his testicles should be.

My Tercel may be a piece of shit, but at least it’s got four tires.

Favorite recent search terms

Published
by
Anonymous Coworker
on March 8, 2007 @ 9:42 am
in devil cat, jesus is fo' shizzle, meta blogging, music, necrophilia, potty humor and sex
. 20 Comments

sexs bad bitch (What the hell? Is this from Latvia? Lithuania? This is almost as funny as…)

GROSSES ANUSES (This search came in from the UAE. In all caps. I almost hope they eventually found goatse. NSFW)

sex with coworker (Yawn. Just bang him/her already and stop Googling about it.)

when a cat pees and pukes on your personal stuff (Yep, this sounds like my cats.)

lily allen was born on a farm ? (I personally wouldn’t be surprised to find out she was born in a trashcan. But really, who the fuck cares?)

christian art (This amounts to 2 % of total searches for my blog)

necrophilia (This amounts to 1 % of total searches for my blog)

Yes. Awesome. People find my site by searching for christian art and necrophilia. I feel like it’s my own personal “Hands Across America”. What can I say? I’m a uniter.

Aaaagh! Anthrax is falling from the sky!

Published
by
Anonymous Coworker
on March 7, 2007 @ 8:47 am
in uncategorized
. 20 Comments



Aaaagh!

Originally uploaded by anonymouscoworker.


What kind of fucking MONSTER would make kids go to school in weather like this!1!!?1?1!!?one!?1?!eleven!?

Oh.

Well, now THAT makes complete sense.

I’m a bad judge of character

Published
by
Anonymous Coworker
on March 5, 2007 @ 11:39 am
in food and work
. 18 Comments

This morning I arrived at work be-suited and with a pile of paperwork already on my desk. I don’t know how it gets there over the weekend, but I can only assume that we hires gnomes to work a weekend shift, and that we pay them in rocks and soiled tissues. And as a quick note, if a gnome ever offers to pay you a large sum of money in place of the arranged evening with his diminutive (yet vivacious) wife that he previously gambled away, accept only US currency or risk contracting a new strain of plague. (No, it’s not racist to suggest that gnomes have the plague. It’s not a stereotype if it’s true! I guess you namby-pamby liberal PC types would be all up in arms if I factually stated that all Asians could fly, and that Puerto Ricans are filled with candy.)

Anyway, before starting work I went in to the kitchen to drop off my lunch and spotted a box of doughnuts on the table. The table, in our office, is well-understood to be the place to put something when you want to get rid of it. After every holiday, especially New Year’s day, it becomes a cornucopia of sugary, trans-fat laden scrumptiousness that makes me want to stuff it into every crack, crevice, and orifice on my body before anyone else has a chance to get it. See, I grew up in a house with two brothers, so any food left unattended, even if it was on a plate in your lap and you had turned your head to look at something, immediately became like France during a conflict: Anyone’s for the taking. So now when I see food like that, I inhale it, and the doughnuts were no different.

Immediately after hose-facing the doughnuts, I had to get to a presentation with a guy who’s a bit jittery, and who everyone thinks is a rabid coke-fiend. I figured that my recent sugar-binge would help me keep up with him in speed, if not appearance. Red-eyes, spastic movements, shaky, nervous. Hollywood couldn’t write a truer cokehead. So I think it’s nothing before the presentation that he starts sniffing and rubbing his fingers under his nose. And he keeps looking me in the eye while he’s doing it, like, “Hey. Let’s find a big bucket of blow and snort a line from here to Mexico.” But I want nothing more than to get the presentation over with and get the hell away from him.

So, the presentation starts and I’m talking to everyone, and all of a sudden EVERYBODY starts doing the coke-nose shuffle. Trying to surreptitiously control their coke-addled cravings for a double-barreled nostril-blast of Colombia’s finest “nose-candy” while shooting me stealthy glances before going back to daydreaming about a snow-drift of coke that would make Tony Montana drop a duece down his trouser-leg.

After the meeting I stopped at the bathroom and noticed that maybe I should have taken a little more time with those doughnuts.

The Winner

Published
by
Anonymous Coworker
on March 4, 2007 @ 8:36 pm
in uncategorized
. 4 Comments

On a scale of 10 to sucks, I give it a “Sketch Show“.

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