Jesus fucking christ, what is wrong with the world? I'm serious, I think the whole goddamn planet is falling apart around us.

I get out the door late this morning, and there's a ding in my Lexus. Oh, and why did I leave late? The damn wife had to thaw the blueberries for the waffles. "Honey, the blueberries are frozen solid. You want strawberries today?" Fuck no, you dumb cunt. If I wanted strawberries, I would've asked for 'em. So I made her thaw blueberries, and she made me late.

So anyway, I get out and there's a ding on the hood of the Lexus. Goddamn it, ya know? I had the game turned up pretty loud last night, and it was probably that retard neighbor kid throwing his baseball. Probably threw it at the car on purpose. I'll tell the little punk's dad to pay for it tonight.

Anyway, I had to take the Hummer in to the office, and traffic was completely intolerable. Nothing but old people, crips, and school buses. Plus a couple damn college students weaving in and out of traffic and just generally getting right in my way. Had to completely run one light -- I'm lucky there weren't any cops around to slow me down.

But hey, I'm a good driver, so I still make it to the office ahead of probably 90% of the drones. Ahead of my lazy-ass secretary, ahead of my lazy-ass accountant, ahead of that dumbass who makes the coffee, so wouldn't you know, I have to make it myself. Just about undrinkable, and it takes forever to finish brewing up.

The secretary finally shows up and brings a bunch of doughnuts. Wouldn't you know it? No eclairs. I take three or four of the chocolate-covered ones and glare at her as I go into my office.

Then I start getting the complaints from the drones. "We need more time for the project." I don't care, just finish it. "Our copier's busted again." I don't care, not my problem. "The customer wants a smaller order." I don't care, ship 'em the regular order and enclose the bill. Can't let these assholes screw us.

I go ahead and call my stockbroker after that. That new tech stock is tanking, and I tell Sam I'm pissed about it. "I told you to pass on it. Their business plan is ridiculous. Eat the loss and dump it before you lose more." Fuck that. I don't buy losers, so I tell him to make it a winner or I'll find a new broker. He complains some more, and I hang up on him. Fucking dumbass Jew.

Finally, my damn secretary comes in and says she needs the day off tomorrow. What for? "I gotta take Sherman back to the doctor. That cough isn't going away yet." Fuck that shit. I'm tired of her taking off for no damn reason, and I tell her so. "But Sherman -- " No. Shut it. It's your damn problem for having a damn kid who wastes all his time getting sick. I'm trying to run a business. Profits are down, the government's on my back with all these damn regulations, and my taxes aren't going down near fast enough -- and this bitch wants to complain about her whiny fucking baby? Wah, wah, wah.

I tell her to make her choice between her job and the fucking baby. She leaves crying. Too many babies in that family, if you ask me.

No more secretaries with brats in this office. Too much damn stress in my life as it is.

Log in or registerto write something here or to contact authors.