Chimney Headed Crack Mouth, Making Love To Readers, Sleepy Time Please!

One minute I’m watching a replay of the ‘87 Lakers-Celtics NBA Finals…next thing I know I’m coming to, neck wrenched, beard askew, dried drool caked onto the side of my mouth.  Guess the insomnia is starting to catch up with me.  I know it’s been affecting my mood a lot lately…surly surly surly.  That’s not to say that I haven’t been completely in the right for much of my attitude but perhaps there are more productive ways of handling the recent shitstorm.  Perhaps.  With that being said, I still say I’m getting one helluva sparkly golden dildo eased into my ass where my job is concerned.  I just hate the double standard.  I’m sick of bitching about it as much as I’m sure people are sick of hearing me bitch about it but the fact is, a good many of us are taking a stiff one for no other reason than to knock us down a peg and I feel like someone has got to be a prick about it.  Now, we didn’t get together, serve cake and hold a vote of any sort but I’ve gone on ahead and nominated myself and I figure, worst case scenario, I’m out an 11$/hr job.  Yeah, there isn’t a single other one of those out there…sure.  The slow kid working the Wal-Mart 10 items or less line is damn near banking 11$/hr.  Maybe the higher-ups are right in their estimation that all this talk about money is bad for morale…so.  Perhaps, if they had a few more fuckers willing to stand and call bullshit ‘bullshit’, I wouldn’t be getting hauled into an office and told to cool my jets.  Or perhaps I’m right on the money, honey when I say they’d rather have a store of short bus making 8$/hr than a store of fuckers like me who’ll command more money but get the job done 365 days of the year, error free.  Cut our raises…you cheap cocksuckers.  You should be taking money out of the potheads fuckin’ pocket and double-fisting it into mine.  Meanwhile, thanks to Smokestack Calhoun my sinuses close up at 2:30 on the nose everyday and don’t reopen until her patchouli-drentched ass picks up her 8th smoke of the day.  Never thought I’d be so happy to have someone reek of fag smoke.  Anyway, I figure I’m just bringing down a hammer in between my fingers at this point.  Soon enough, I’ll get one of ‘em and fit will hit the shan.  I really don’t care at this stage of the show.  I just don’t wanna be pissed off about it anymore.  Wish it were as easy as just saying it.  In other news, I’ve been a mix cd making Jesus the past few days so a few of you have something to look forward to.  The rest of you can eat a dick.  I kid.  If you’re taking the time to read this then you’re showing far more patience than I ever have…especially where someone else’s bullshit rants are concerned.  But there’s where my ridiculous ego comes into play:  I honestly think this shit I’m writing is actually WORTH reading.  Regardless of whether it is or isn’t is really of no great consequence.  The fact that YOU’VE taken time out of your day to read this garbage tells me you care enough about me to stick it out till the bitter end.  For that I say thank you and tell you without even a seconds pause…I probably want to make love to you.