Cindy, New Not!Emily just came in and turned on the tv. I can't read with the tv on. If I go read in my room, I'm gonna fall asleep.
t /whine
'Selfless'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Cindy, New Not!Emily just came in and turned on the tv. I can't read with the tv on. If I go read in my room, I'm gonna fall asleep.
t /whine
Young lady, you've been on here way longer than twenty minutes. Sit on the floor in your room, and read. Also? Drink something cold.
Yes Ma'am!
Do I get to break for the Season Premier of Gilmore Girls?
vw, can you take chair into your room (since I assume the reading in bed thing is what makes you fall asleep)?
There's no room for a chair in my room. I'll figure it out, though.
Work is going to make my fucking head explode.
All I've done all day is put out fires and fix shit, and not only am I not getting any thanks for it, I'm getting carped at by higher ups that there are any problems at all.
I hate them all and want to stab them in the head with a barbecue fork!
Fucking punitive incompetent ass-covering scatter brained management fucko fuckwits. Get out of my face for fixing shit! I am not responsible for every little crapdoodle thing that goes wrong, since (a) I only do what you tell me to do; and (b) it only happens after you fucking authorize it.
Also, none of this shit is important. It's all minor crap.
On top of which, I'm absolutely swamped by the workload of the OCI shit and I won't be able to catch up to it until tomorrow night, since I have to get Emmett tonight.
Hands Hec a barbecue fork.
Stands nonchalantly by trying to look not!enabling.
Fuck that. This should be fun, and I don't have anyone in barbecue fork range to skewer myself.
goes to pop popcorn
{{Hec}} Oh my. No head exploding. Except the management fucko fuckwits that need to have exploding heads.
I skipped. {{all of ya}}
And I just heard on the news that Rita is headed our way.
Fuck the fucking fuck. Why did I move to Texas again?
Oops. Manager fell on a barbecue fork. But the firm doesn't own a barbecue fork. I suspect rogue NorCal vampires.