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Random Thoughts Not So Random After All

Yeah yeah yeah! Random thoughts are back. No numbers. No, no. Girlfriend stubborn and angry. Esperanto will be my next trick.

Unu) It’s been more than a month now that I am jobless. Am I better? Yep. But I left a well compensated job for volunteering. Oh I am not going to build homes in Africa or be serving soup at the Salvation Army. I’m a stay at home dude. Toughest fucking non-paid, underrated job ever. Especially for men (in my experience), no sexism intended. I mean, when she comes home from work, she grabs my ass and boobs while I am doing the dishes, then she says “Hmmm…smells good, what’s for supper?”. Chicken à la arsenic.

Du) I wonder if self gratification is equally proportional to time spent at home. For me it is.  Easily a two hundred percent increase. I should be quoted at the stock exchange, you’ll never see stock rise so quickly.

Tri) I admit I miss my job. Well I miss my colleagues. My “neighbour” especially. A year ago we started to hide a sealed fruit cup in the other’s cubicle. The first weeks were fun, lots of potential hiding places. After a couple of months, I had to fucking dismantle panels to hide it. Before leaving there was only one place left. The computer. I had all my shit ready to put the fruit cup between the hard drive and the graphic card, but I left. We actually have no clue where the cup is hidden now.

Kvar) Everybody has their name on their cubicles, right? On my neighbours was MUFFIN and mine was CUPCAKE. We actually were named that way at team meetings. Our job was draining and one day Muffin called me MUFFCAKE by mistake. Holy shit, we laughed.

Kvin) Yep I miss the stupid clients. The racists…oh I miss them. The odd ones. I miss them all. I remember a client calling me about receiving his correspondence in french instead of English. It was just a printing mistake, all his other shit was normally sent in English. The call was going well, calm, professional. Then just before hanging up, the weirdo yells FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING FRENCH BASTARD! (clack). What the …? I wasn’t angry. I changed his birth language to French so he gets EVERYTHING in french now. Hehe. Fucker.

Ses) Mister Spice. That client was a total nut job. He used to call three times a day. Yelling, screaming and singing fucking opera on the phone. Most clients have– I dunno – like five or six notes written in their files. Spice had  forty-two pages (almost three hundred notes). You could always tell when he got one of the newbies. They went white, some started crying. We fucking laughed our asses, gave a tap on their shoulder and simply said : “it’s OK, you’ve been spiced”.

Sep) Have you seen Mike’s Bobbipins? Man my stomach still hurts from laughing. It’s funny because it’s the kind of absurd situations that happened at my job.

Ok) Ok is eight. Wow. Ok, suck my balls.

Naux) Ahhhhh. I miss you Muffin. I miss the suckamyballzas, miss the ahhhhhh SHADUPS! Miss your sudokus full of penises I drew, miss the discussions about pooh texture, miss farting in your cookie bag, miss the “can you really suck your own penis?” debates. I miss singing loudly, yet gently “SLOWWW DOWN MY BEAAAATING HEART”  in your headset while you talk to clients. Yep. I shot a video of myself at the beach in Montreal. In it I express what I couldn’t write, Muffin. You’ll notice I look miserable without you.

Yeah. See ! I am totally depressed. NOW GET BACK TO WORK SUUUUUCKERS!!!!

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