Comments
by The Changer
Let's Talk About Me
| I
bet you want to know what this column will be all about, don’t you?
Basically, it’s about me talking about whatever pisses me off. Generally,
that’s going to involve morons and ex-boyfriends. I’ve been told
I’m a bit harsh with men. I’ve been accused of turning them gay.
I’ve even been accused of physical and psychological damage. Hey,
it’s not my fault they’re weak. |
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If you find yourself asking,
“How many e’s are there in macaroni?” or can’t differentiate between an
RJ45 and an RJ11, read my column, email your responses to me, and read
all about how irritatingly ignorant you are next week. You people
piss me off. I really don’t need you on my planet, but you make for
some hilarious stories.
Life became much simpler
for me once I realized that we’re all here for each other’s amusement.
I’m one of the most hilarious people I’ve seen. I’m an intelligent
woman, but I can’t keep from dating assholes for the life of me.
I work my ass off to get what I want, and when I do, I get pissed off because
I got what I asked for. I’m a network engineer by day and fingerpainter
in my free time. I can’t make recognizable objects, but I make the
best swirly things you’ve ever seen.
So, now that you know what
to expect, here’s just a little glimpse into today’s frustrations:
Winky’s word for the day
is invariably. Yesterday’s was antithesis. I’m waiting for
thesaurus.com to email “aversion” to him so I won’t have to define it for
him anymore. Apparently, with thin clients, you often have the problem
of “retardation of the system”, but they only use 20 MB of transmission
(Ummmm…honey, that’s 16Kb of bandwidth). I learn new things from
salespeople every day. Today the moron made me walk six blocks between
the car and the sandwich shop and then back to the car because the sandwich
joint closed several months ago. His lunch-place-selection privileges
have been revoked. Don’t make me walk half a mile in 90-degree weather
on 4-inch heels unless I’m getting something out of the deal. And
if he asks me to stand on a ladder when I’m wearing a skirt one more time,
I’m just gonna have to make him gay.
And what the fuck is up with
people winking at me? Do I have a goddamned “wink at me” sign on
my forehead? First there’s Winky, our faithful “senior sales exec”.
He has this thing about winking at me and telling me how cute I am.
And then, this morning, I walk into the office, and the director of building
maintenance/operations (read: janitor who owns a Jaguar and a Porsche 911)
WINKS hello to me. What in the hell is the matter with them?
Do they not understand that I don’t go for that kinda shit? Don’t
tell me I’m a hot babe. Don’t wink at me. Fear me. Stay
the fuck away. I have shit to do.
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