04 Shaban 1425 — 29 Bhadon 1925 — 20 September 2004

Another day another day. The same old routine. Things going the same way they always do. People screwing up at the office. Then not accepting that it is indeed them and not me to blame. After all, what can you expect from someone who has to listen to the same instructions very slowly twice to get that he has “to get the file from Nasar that Jalal wanted, Nasar will know which one it is”.

I mean this guy is stupid. I have to repeat jokes, everytime, and with a lot of elucidation too. There are algae in the South Indian rainforests that have a larger number of brain cells than him. He has to share a brain cell with these two other morons that he likes to hang out with.

Their jokes are like “Hey I dropped the fork because I cannot bend my hand”. HAHAAHHA. HAHAHAH. Buffon1 bowls over an pisses in his pants and buffoon2 laughs so loud his teeth fall off.

Why am I blogging about this. Well, maybe because I had kind of a similar discussion with the guy today.

He said some very nasty things about me as well, but I am not going to tell you about them am I.

How did it all end?

Well, it ended “Outside”. And noone should ever DARE think that he beat me up. It was his friends who picked him and took him for medical attention.

Damn, I am turning into the normal average proletarian man, the kind that fights and stuff.

Ew ew ew ew ew.

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