I Hate
FUCKING swaggering, cock-brained cuntlicker twenty-four year olds with their fucking stupid 'did-your-Mam-cut-it' hair that probably cost about forty quid to look as shit as it does, twatting on constantly about 'their' music.
Constantly polluting the office with their unreasonably loud phone calls to their 'mates' (ie: people who wish they'd never given them their number) YEAH YEAH MAN CAN I LEND YOUR CAMCORDER. YEAH. YEAH. WANT TO UPLOAD THE GIG ONTO MYSPACE. YEAH MAN. GET OUT THERE. SHOW EM OW ITS DONE. YEAH MAN. NAH MAN. X FACTOR. FUCK OFF. DO IT PROPER. DO IT THE HARD WAY YEAH. CREDIBILITY YEAH.
Please please please die very soon you dreadful dreadful FUCKTARD. This is an advertising sales office. Do you understand? It is not an indie record company. Your 'credibility' could not be lower whilst you work here. Stop playing mp3's of your shit band through your pc speakers - THAT YOU BRING IN SPECIALLY - without comment in the mistaken belief that someone will spontaneously say 'Blimey old chap, that sounds rather spiffing. Pray tell, what enormous talent has produced that?'.
Cunt.
And have a fucking shave. You're at work.
Constantly polluting the office with their unreasonably loud phone calls to their 'mates' (ie: people who wish they'd never given them their number) YEAH YEAH MAN CAN I LEND YOUR CAMCORDER. YEAH. YEAH. WANT TO UPLOAD THE GIG ONTO MYSPACE. YEAH MAN. GET OUT THERE. SHOW EM OW ITS DONE. YEAH MAN. NAH MAN. X FACTOR. FUCK OFF. DO IT PROPER. DO IT THE HARD WAY YEAH. CREDIBILITY YEAH.
Please please please die very soon you dreadful dreadful FUCKTARD. This is an advertising sales office. Do you understand? It is not an indie record company. Your 'credibility' could not be lower whilst you work here. Stop playing mp3's of your shit band through your pc speakers - THAT YOU BRING IN SPECIALLY - without comment in the mistaken belief that someone will spontaneously say 'Blimey old chap, that sounds rather spiffing. Pray tell, what enormous talent has produced that?'.
Cunt.
And have a fucking shave. You're at work.
posted by Tired Dad at
8:26 pm
20 Comments:
He sounds worryingly similar to a particular manager where I work. Wonder if he's moonlighting at your place?
HAHAHA!
What a fucking rant!
Good on yer
That hardly makes me want to get a job in an office environment:-(
Sigh.
Oooo, you sound tired. Get some sleep, and then maybe on Monday you'll be well enough rested to punch him out, which he clearly deserves. Even in my early twenties, when I carried my guitar everywhere (I had paying gigs) I didn't play unless I was asked. Everyone in their twenties sucks, except my daughter, who makes funny jokes and tolerates my "wit" (on good days), and one of her friends who says my wife and I are cooler than her parents. It's not true, but if you can't tell a decent white lie you're not a civilized person, are you?
Welcome back, you miserable cunt.
Every office has one.
I have long been an admirer of your scintillating prose, but this one tops the lot.
Dinners: I think the government just clone the fuckers so we focus our ire on them and not the rubbish companies we work for. Some sort of social control thing.
RD: Thanks
The Alex: Welcome back to the UK, where this is about as good as it gets.
Amphimancer: This frightful cretin *actually* brought his guitar into the office and spent - without any provocation - all lunchtime playing it with a look of soulful earnestness on his face. He honestly did.
NWM: Thanks. I haven't really been away, but I think I know what you're driving at.
Amanda: Just consider this a public service.
Monicker: I know. But why? I'm really leaning toward the cloning thing.
MM: Praise indeed. You are too kind.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
There is NOTHING worse than a man strumming tenderly on a guitar. One tried to woo me by doing that once and I threw up 3 minutes afterwards. No word of a lie.
(This is the same man that used to send me poems. His poems were awarded by medals on the internet, given by people in Ohio.)
I hate people that vie wantonly for attention.I used to be a regular at our local library's PC room, back in the days when I could neither afford, nor really wanted one in my home.
An admittedly pretty girl used to be in there frequently, with a reportedly scintillating singing voice. Only problem was, she used to sing to herself at the PC. Loudly. This was clearly an attmept to attract adoring and flattering comments about her saintly vocal cords, and made me dislike her instantly.
One time, when it was just me and her, she started off with intensely irritating Mariah Carey-esque hums (never use one note when 50 will do). As she began to realise that I was ignoring her, the hums rose to crescendo of wailing. in the end, clearly angry, and slightly embarrassed, she left.
I felt that my day's work was comprehensively finished.
So you don't go after-work drinking with this chappie, I take it?
NWM: I attended one of those dinner-party things that the broadsheet readers seem so fond of (whatever happened to going down the pub?) and one chap turned up guitar in hand. It's just the presumptiousness really. As if people WILL BE ENTRANCED.
Correctly stimulated, I can make yoghurt come out of my nose. I will not do it unprompted at the dinner table. We had to listen to the cunt for at least an hour.
M_G: The correct thing to do is to say "You should be a singer?" Cue fake modesty and coquetish look"Oh, really?" The reply "No, I mean you 'should be'. But you're not. So shut the fuck up."
*: Oddly, whenever any sort of work-related social gathering takes place, he mysteriously vanishes. Perhaps he is too cool for us. Or perhaps he knows that we all consider him a twat and will have no hesitation in saying so outside of working hours. Who knows?
TD: Couldn't I just break her jaw and run out of the library? Or is that sort of thing frowned upon these days?
umm..have you been arrested?
where are you?
wowsa...how do you really fuckin feel? c'mon let it out.
M_G: I'm no legal expert, but my understanding is that you can only injure people with impunity if you unexpectedtly find them in your own home. Then you can cave their FUCKING HEADS IN and walk away free. I do not believe this new rule extends to public libraries.
C: Lay off. It's only been a week. And what's with the 'arrested' thing?
Lee: Welcome. I am sometimes quite circumspect. It just sometimes gets a bit much.
I thought, since everybody hates the things,
I'd send a poem as a comment here,
Since that's about all I can do, I fear:
Write sonnets. Sometimes a man like me sings,
But not that hiphop crap. I should have strings,
Wailing like banshees. Oh, you'd shed a tear!
But in the meantime, sit and have a beer,
Rest easy, and enjoy these murmurings.
What else is there to offer but contempt
When all these maladjusted nincompoops
Who ought to be confined in chicken coops,
Unfed, unwashed, unheard, unseen, unkempt,
Worse than the worst nightmares we've ever dreamt,
Are out among us? Man, they're out in groups!
Thanks for that. I think. I don't want to be picky, but I'm not really sure that is actually a sonnet.
I don't feel the rhyming scheme in the second stanza is sufficiently different from the first to actually make the supposed impact of the sonnet.
Just an opinion. I like T.S. Eliot and he is shit. So what do I know. Thanks though.
I've got a photograph of the man in question strumming on his guitar making a face like he was shitting himself.
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