the legend




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Klutch.xls: back off MoFo


I was going to write a happy christmas post this morning. I had planned on coming in, settling down with my coffee, and for once in my life, doing something uplifting. I was going to write that my favorite part of christmas was sitting around with the family in our PJ's eating coffee cake, trying hard to pretend we don't want to open our gifts. I was going to write that my favorite part of christmas was rushing home with the family after christmas eve dinner and gossiping about our reletives. I was going to write that christmas makes me happy.

But today I am furious. Fucking goddamned eight oh fucking clock in the fucking morning fucking furious.

I have not yet opened the door to my office and someone is telling me I have to go buy a $20 bottle of champagne for a visitor we are having. And the communication round here is brilliant:

"hey Klutch, the boss called me and asked me to ask you to go buy a bottle of champagne this morning."

This comes from someone who's branch on the organizational tree is even with mine.

Perhaps it is because I do not exist.

I am not an errand boy. I am not an office assistant. I have the three letters M-G-R in my title. If you know me, you know I am not one to give a shit about title. You know I hate authority. But let me tell you motherfucker, right now, from the bottom of my heart that my time is being wasted. I am being misused. I will not take this for much longer. Here are three other tasks that have been handed to me in the past 3 working days and I will motherfucking leave it at that:

* Go purchase appliances for people in the organization

* Go purchase gift cards for people in the organization

* Drag this garbage bag of used clothing to the courthouse








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›12/22/2003
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