| Alright... the three little pig-tailed brats that are tying up the print que with fucking black and white prints off the BARBIE website are all gonna die! I mean it... plus there is (Yet Again) some netard with the instant message chimes cranked up through their headphones, AND there is some mope playing BOWLING on the word processors. JEEEEZZIZ! I'm on a rampage. I just stomped up to Mr. personality and said: me - "Are those your chimes?" Mr. P (yanking ear phone from ear) Huh? me - "ARE THOSE YOUR CHIMES?" Mr. P "What chimes?" me - "The chimes I can hear all the way over there." (points to desk across room) Mr. P "Uh... Yeah" (stares blankly) me - "WELL TURN'EM DOWN!" (stomps back to desk, feels extremely pukey). This morning I woke up and realized I was out of some precious medication I need to take daily, no I will NOT tell you what it is, but you can guess. I called the pharm and was on hold from 8 to 8:20 until I realized that NOBODY was going to answer my call. So I marched down to the Pharm (well, drove.) and lo, the fucking place was closed! The hours said 8 and it was closed. I found a manager and tweezed out that the "Floating Pharmacist" hadn't floated in yet. I reminded Mr. Manager that this is medicine we are dealing with, not cokes, not birthday cards. I asked him what he was going to do about it. He mumbled an insincere apology and I told him he was weak, very weak. I don't normally pick on people, but what the fuck? What if I were having an insulin reaction? |
