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6:30 a.m. - 2005-04-19


I told you guys Susie went on a job interview last week and was then called in for a second interview on Friday.

The second interview didn't go so well.

Basically it ended with the manager saying that they had three "very qualified candidates" and it was going to be a very tough decision as to who they were going to pick.

So Susie moped around all weekend because she was really hoping to get the job on Friday and then go tell her current boss to stick his head up his ass and eat his own shit because she was OUTTA THERE, BAYBEEE!! FIND SOMEONE ELSE TO WORK 75 HOURS A WEEK AND STILL GET CHEWED OUT FOR HAVING A STAPLER ON THEIR DESK INSTEAD OF IN THE DESK DRAWER!! BLOW ME, COCKWAD!!!

Alas ... that didn't happen.

So last night the phone rings.

I answer.

It's the guy she interviewed with, looking for her.

I said she was still at work and would be working late because it was Monday.

He asked if he could call her at work and I told him "Yes sir. Please do."

Then I added "Tell me, man ... did she get the job?"

He said "I'm going to offer it to her and hopefully she'll accept."

I squealed.

I said "I think you've got a new Human Resources Director, pal."

He said "Would you like to come down here and blow me?"

I said "Most certainly, if it means my wife will get off work every day at 5 p.m. and never work another Saturday in her life."

He promised me that would be the case.

Y'know ... I don't understand you chicks at all.

Penis tastes funny.

Why you wanna be suckin' it all the time?

Soooooo ... ten minutes later Susie called.

I'm Listerining the tonsils, trying to get the taste of manager semen out of them when she calls.

She's soooooo tired and sick that she's barely excited.

She asks if she should take the job and I reminded her that if she doesn't, she has to leave today for Atlanta for a two-day seminar with her current company and if she accepts it, she can blow off the Atlanta trip and never have to travel out of state for her job again.

She started typing up her resignation as we spoke.

At 12:45 a.m. I woke up and Susie still wasn't home from work this morning.

She went in at 7 a.m. yesterday and was still there almost 18 hours later.


Those people can shove that job up their asses.

I received the "used" stuff that I ordered from Amazon that I told you about last week.

The stuff from the guy/company who sent CDs out smeared in blood.

My CD case was cracked and there was a slight gouge in the DVD case but other than that ... it's here and working good.


That's a relief.

I wasn't all that jazzed about sucking another dick to get what I needed.

I mean ... ptooey!

This homeless guy walks into the business yesterday.

I know that sounds like the beginning of a joke, but it's not.

So he walks in and I'm by the front door so I'm the first person he talks to.

I can tell he's not a customer because ... well ... our customers don't normally look like they've been sleeping in a sewage tank.

So he starts telling me how he's homeless and has been staying at the Salvation Army but they want $12 a night to stay there and he doesn't have that kind of money and he doesn't want any money from me, all he wants is to spend the night in our building for "a while".

We close up shop at 4:30, I tell him.

That's okay, he says.

I couldn't think of the right words to say "Look ... no offense but this is a business and we're not going to let a stranger sleep here on the floor when we have computers and laptops and televisions and tons of stuff all over the place that you could put in a shopping cart and take to the pawn shop to pawn off so you can buy your crack. I'm sorry."

So as he's telling me his story, Drunk Assed Jamie comes walking up to the front door.

"Get outta here!" he barked. "Don't come back!!"

I was shocked.

The homeless guy just turned around and walked out the door.

Jamie just kept doing what he was doing without even mentioning what he had just done.

"You know James," I said. "There's a special place in Hell for people like you."

"Awwwww, that's all my fault," he drawled. "A homeless guy came by here a few years ago looking for a handout so I had him do a few odd jobs around the office and paid him. The next thing I knew, they were all over the front yard like zombies, all wanting odd jobs and cash. They're like stray cats. You can put out a little milk but then word gets out that there's milk there and every stray cat in town wants some."

While I can understand his reasoning that if we let one homeless guy crash on our floor, the next night there will be 20 guys, I still thought he was harsh.

"Well shit, man," he laughed. "You woulda stood there and listened to him go on and on for hours and then finally gave him all your money and then tomorrow there'd be more wanting your money."

I dunno if he was right or not.

But I know I couldn't have been that mean to the guy so yeah ... I'd probably still be standing there right now.


So anyway.

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