Don Knotts' dick has been receiving more stimulation than my brain these days

[rissygirl]

I feel out of control. I'm tired, bitchy, angry--and homesick. My job is like a fucking circus. Each day I walk in with a Pepsi in-hand, wishing the bottle was filled with Battery Acid, so I could like--throw it on someone

Comments

[reotord]

Lunch at noon usually helps me regain my sanity for a short period of time. I get to bitch to my husband for half of an hour, and he consoles me with the those three words I've been longing to hear since 7 AM, "Get over it." Ugh.

Man, this made me laugh out loud. What's your job, anyway? I'm curious now...

[rissygirl]

Oh. I'm a slave at a construction site. I work with people that have big messy mustaches that makes them look like walruses. Sometimes I feel like screaming, "Free mustache rides from the fat fuck on the second floor!" But I resist the urge.

[reotord]

And, er, what sort of services to you provide? Image consulting? "And, uh, guys. Please, please remember: no CRACK on the jackhammer. Yeah, you know what I mean..."