A few months back I started a new job, and for all intents and purposes, what I'm finding is that this is taking up way too much of my time. My time is too valuable, they don't understand that, and I'm feeling that my talents aren't being appreciated.
<<<<<<For God sake, this is what has become of my artistic abilities and creative genius.
I find it quite sad and pathetic that I not only felt the need to snap this photo while ordering a doughy pretzel from a very confused looking Oriental lady, but that I was laughing hysterically while the poor non-speaking woman began to shake nervously.
Though, now each time I go purchase a pretzel delight from Mrs. Wong I give her a smirk, knowing exactly what she's thinking.
Now, this new job is probably a good thing. After all, I have some bills that need paying to get those bastard bill collectors off my back. They're relentless. Take for instance, the last collector that called (or at least the last one I picked up the phone). This is how that conversation went.
Me - Hello
Pakistani Bill Collector - Mr. Wells, you I'd like to give you the opportunity to catch up on...
Me - Me no speaky English...so sorry...
Besides, what's the point, right? We all know the world is going to be engulfed in a fiery hell due to BP having every body of water covered in thick, greasy oil by December 22, 2012 and their won't be any way to extinguish imminent armegeddon. Either that or I'll be fighting off zombies, which is fine with me because zombies are a whole lot less scary than bill collectors.
Worst of all, my layoff from work produced a nasty glue sniffing habit where I was no longer able to afford the good stuff, like cyanoacrylates. I was beginning to turn to Elmer's, and we all know the only good thing that Elmer's glue is good for is making those tiny glue boogers and flicking them at the pig tailed girl with birth control glasses sitting in front of you in Art class.
Alright, that's a joke. I don't really have a glue sniffing habit, but it is true about the glue booger thing.
The problem is it's taking me away from what I like to do. My writing. At a time when I was not only consistent with my blog (consistently bad, but consistent none the less), but other projects in progress as well, I had to go and find a job after a successful five months of being unemployment. I have to say I don't know what all these Republicans that are bitching about. Tells me that they haven't experienced rolling out of bed no earlier than 10:00 AM and eaten Capt. Crunch Berries out of the same bowl four days in a row. Those schmucks need to lighten up and look at things a little more positively.
Anyway, my other projects that are being jeopardized are the fictional account of the son of Scottish immigrants who, subsequently commit a mutually agreed upon murder-suicide. This in turn, forces young Dylan to find out not only about responsibility, perseverance and humility on his own, but the burden of taking over the family business, that being the discovering of an environmentally friendly haggis loaf.
And second, my memoir. Yup, I said it. A memoir, based on mostly why I'm so fucked up. Nothing you will want to read, but a form a therapy that's a whole lot cheaper than laying on the faux leather sofa belonging to a scholarly type in a worn, beige corduroy blazer charging $100 an hour.
It's the blog that keeps me sharp, in order to continue with my other projects. So...when I'm not updating Scuzzymoney, it seems I'm a slug on the couch watching the The Real Housewives of Tuscaloosa or wherever those sluts are coming from this season.
Of course, I have an idea. It came about while reading about a Heather Armstrong, author of dooce.com. Heather was fired her for making small talk or jabs or what have you at her boss, on her blog, because he was groping her in an improper manner. Which was a problem because not only was he blind and has no olfactory senses (don't dis the disabled on your blog) but also when he grabbed on her junk he really believed he was grabbing on 'his' junk.
Of course, since then there have been several other cases such as Dan Leone, a former employee of the Philadelphia Eagles. Dan got upset over the fact that one of his favorite players signed with another team. So Dan posted this to Facebook.
Dan is [expletive] devastated about Dawkins signing with Denver ... Dam Eagles R Retarted!!
I assume the [expletive] that Dan was mentioning was [Hey, who stole my [expletive] Cheese Steak?]. Anyway, shortly after this horrific posting by Dan, he was fired. Though this didn't deter Dan. He found a new job looking over the Liberty Bell, watching out for defects, scratches and cracks.
Now, back to my idea. If the narrow minded [expletive] wont give me the [expletive] respect and [expletive] time to pursue my [expletive] dream than they can all go [expletive] themselves!