Happy New Year to all. For my first post of the year I will use a reprint from the old My Wife Hates Me blog. Things haven't changed all that much.
The holidays have past. Another year is upon me. The holidays were pretty much the usual spend-a-credit-a-thon this year. I went to parties where I don’t know a bunch of the people and seem to always end up near some person I just met a few hours before. Seems an awkward time to meet someone, “Hello there, I’m Joe Knucklehead and work at the cheese factory, oh and by the way Merry Christmas”. “Hey, Bob Fuckface, the cement salesman, happy fucking new year”. Sheesh.
There was an added monkey wrench this holiday season with my dryer and the Best Buy repair team, but I will leave that sordid tale for another day. For now, let’s just say that Mr. Brad Anderson, CEO of Best Buy, knows me and my dryer works.
One thing, with teenagers, the Christmas lists do get easy. Here is the whole list: 1.CASH. No beating around the bush for my offspring. My wife is a bit more complicated, as it’s a mix of cash, gifts, obedience, and yet another thin slice of my soul. Not too bad. I did receive a few nice gifts from the wife and kids that I paid or will pay for. Hey, it’s the thought that counts.
I did have a few days off work during the holidays and still have a couple before I go back, and as they say a bad day doing pretty much anything else besides work is still better than a good day at work. Then it’s back to the cubicle and business trips where I must serve and plan for the interest of others in exchange for monetary payments until the corporate gods decide that I have become too old and/or too expensive. Now, the “current economic conditions…” announcements and e-mails now add to the long list of weekly bullshit of synergy, products, and budget planning. One of these days that Vietnam Vet/NRA supporter a few cubicles away is going to snap and shoot half the people in the place. I told him to let me know and I’ll call in sick that day. He said he would. There is this guy in my office who keeps saying “happy new year” to people on the phone until the end of January. I even tell him it’s annoying as shit, but he thinks I’m joking. Hopefully Vietnam guy takes him out on rampage day.
That’s all the time I have for now, since I’m the automated taxi and cash dispenser, I have to go pick up my 14 year old daughter at the roller rink and have some skinny 14 year old boy with pimples attempt to direct some feeble and nervous greeting towards me as my daughter gets in the car. I am the Robotman.