So, it’s been a minute.
176,579(ish) minutes to be exact(ish).
A lot has happened. Nothing has changed.
Let’s tell some jokes.
And say goodbye to the robot.
Good afternoon, Jeffrey.
After careful review, we regret to inform you that your account is no longer in good standing, and immediate action is required on your part if you wish for us to not take further steps to ensure payments will be made in a timely manner. You are on notice for the following reasions:
Jeffrey, you can return your account to good standing by taking the following action(s)
Not making payments on your credit card is a serious matter, Jeffrey, and to show you just how serious we are, we’re increasing your credit limit from $4,000 to $5,000, just in time for the holidays! Now, you can spend even more money that you don’t actually have!
It’s a paraphrased e-mail, but this actually happened like a week ago. Discover thought it would be a good idea to ignore the fact that I can’t make payments or stop exceeding my credit line by giving me more goddamned money.
Thanks, assholes. I’m weak and it’s Christmas. More dogshit is on the way.
A couple days ago, I was able to enjoy a day off from both of my jobs. Now, I don’t get a lot of time off, so when I do, I really like to make it count. I don’t like to sleep in or lounge around. I need to be productive! I need to get the shit done I’m not able to accomplish otherwise.
So on this day off, I was sitting with the Boss and we were making plans for the day ahead. By now, it had been two or three days since Thanksgiving, and there was nary a Christmas decoration in our apartment.
I was hoping she hadn’t noticed.
“Let’s go get some Christmas decorations!”
She fucking noticed. Continue reading
They always said it. Without fail. Every year.
Pay attention! You’ll need this when you’re older!
Some bitter old teacher with blue hair, tits to her knees and perfume that smelled like you were trying to mask a dirty litter box with Febreze.
You’ll need this when you’re out in the real world!
The real world? What the Hell is this, then? The goddamned Matrix? I’ve got news for you. There is a spoon. I have a drawer full of them.
But you know what? As it turns out, teachers in grade school can’t predict the fucking future.
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