Work potlucks, or work gatherings, or mandatory work
get-togethers, or whatever you want to call them, are
I have a ton of other stuff to do tonight, and the last
thing I want to do is bake bread for these stupid
fuckerrs who I can’t stand in the first place.
And to make matters worse, I walked away for a bit too
long, and consequently burned the bread.
So now, I have to go back to the store, pick up some
more, and do this all over again.
I could really give a shit less about team unity, or any
of the other morale-inducements that go on at work.
And, for fuck sake, would somebody please stop the
ignorance of the roommates?
If I have to hear somebody yell “You ain’t my daddy,” or
“You ain’t donate no sperm,” or any more hip-hop talk,
which some of my politically correct acquantances like
to call Ebonics, I’m going to shoot somebody.
OK, I think I’ve ranted enough.