Some dumb motherfucker walked up to me yesterday and asked how the cats are doing and how many I have now. When I responded that I have 7 cats, that dumb motherfucker,
thinking he was SO WITTY and pleased as fucking punch with himself, said: "They're going to start calling you the crazy cat lady. When you die, they'll probably eat you." He chuckled then, very satisfied at how fucking funny he thought he was, and walked away. BEFORE I KILLED HIM.
Oh God, isn't that hysterical?! I simply have never had anyone refer to me as a "crazy cat lady" before.
How original! FUCK YOU, YOU FUCK FUCKING DUMB ASS BORE OF A MOTHERFUCKER. If you think my ass is sitting anywhere near you at the company X-mas party, you can lick my sphincter, you BIG FUCKING BORE. [I know all this ranting makes me sound mentally unbalanced.
NEWSFLASH: I am!]
Anyhoo, that shit made SB an itsy bit angry, especially since it happened before 10:00. Not that ANY AMOUNT OF COFFEE IN THE WORLD EVER would ever fucking improve an encounter with the office blowhard, who is the typical LOUD motherfucker everybody knows (every office or tour bus has one!), who just thinks he is the wittiest funniest person who ever gifted the fucking planet.
This man is SO NOT witty, and SB should know from witty, because my ass was voted
wittiest in high school. I am the Queen of that shit, and don't you forget it.
On another subject, my deadline has been extended until today on the work project. It was a bit more complex than we had previously planned on. The crazy cat lady
(har, har!) will be back tomorrow, and hopefully this motherfucking work shit will be all wrapped up, and I will be
FREE, FREE, I say!Have a great day, one and all. I will suffer here, working on a boring fucking work project, possibly subjected once again to the office bore, who my ass may shank, if he is fucking dumb enough to approach me before noon. But don't worry about me. SB is a fucking survivor.