TODAY IS ANOTHER SHIT-HOT NAVY DAY, WITH A SCHEDULE CONSISTING OF TWO THINGS:
1. CASHING CHECKS.
2. SNAPPING NECKS.
….not really. In all reality I’ll spend the day in front of a computer, wishing it were possible to Force-choke a motherfucker so that there would be no evidence.
Question: this show makes me furious. Like almost irrationally angry. It’s so scripted and obnoxiously dramatic, so I don’t really understand why people get as wrapped up in it as they do.
The problem is, the fiancée is all about it. She watches this shit like it’s church. I need a better coping mechanism than leaving the house and going to the driving range. Help would be appreciated before I punch a wall.
One of the better things about being in the Navy is that everything we do has a procedure. Maintenance, talking, shitting, pounding coffee, etc…. All you have to do is read the guidance on what needs to be accomplished when, and then follow the guidance on how to do it.
My wonderful boss has decided that the guidance dictating what we do isn’t enough. We are coming up with trackers on top of trackers, which essentially just entails me shitting out a poorly designed excel document so that I can know some dumb shit that’s already been told to me in the actual official guidance. No it’s not easier to read. No it’s not keeping all my eggs in one basket. It’s just….pure, unadulterated idiocy, all so he can brag that he “came up with a better process” when evaluations come out.
So today I’m gonna try to NOT drop kick him in the taint.
Charlie, you are a man among men. This was incredibly well written, and even though there’s no resolve, I still have that warm fuzzy you get after watching a good movie.
“Don’t be a pussy.” Solid. That should become a workplace motto.
In awesome news that doesn’t piss me off, I found a small coffee joint that opens at 5 here so I can get my first dose of self-medication on the way to work. Owned by a kind old lady who greets you by name and gives you life advice every time you walk in the door. She gives me the sweet sauce of consciousness, I give her a dirty joke in return. She actually likes it.
Advertise
Next weekend I fly home to get married. That thought and a fat cup of hot are the only things that are pushing me through this Monday.
Fuckin slimy pollywog, probably. Sorry bro; raise one for me and drink to the foam.
Sooo can a brother get that email? Not seeing it; maybe because I’m on mobile.
TODAY IS ANOTHER SHIT-HOT NAVY DAY, WITH A SCHEDULE CONSISTING OF TWO THINGS:
1. CASHING CHECKS.
2. SNAPPING NECKS.
….not really. In all reality I’ll spend the day in front of a computer, wishing it were possible to Force-choke a motherfucker so that there would be no evidence.
Question: this show makes me furious. Like almost irrationally angry. It’s so scripted and obnoxiously dramatic, so I don’t really understand why people get as wrapped up in it as they do.
The problem is, the fiancée is all about it. She watches this shit like it’s church. I need a better coping mechanism than leaving the house and going to the driving range. Help would be appreciated before I punch a wall.
One of the better things about being in the Navy is that everything we do has a procedure. Maintenance, talking, shitting, pounding coffee, etc…. All you have to do is read the guidance on what needs to be accomplished when, and then follow the guidance on how to do it.
My wonderful boss has decided that the guidance dictating what we do isn’t enough. We are coming up with trackers on top of trackers, which essentially just entails me shitting out a poorly designed excel document so that I can know some dumb shit that’s already been told to me in the actual official guidance. No it’s not easier to read. No it’s not keeping all my eggs in one basket. It’s just….pure, unadulterated idiocy, all so he can brag that he “came up with a better process” when evaluations come out.
So today I’m gonna try to NOT drop kick him in the taint.
Stranded in ATL, trying and failing to find my inner calm.
Cash checks, snap necks, and suck down cold brews like they’re water.
Motivated enough to go to the gym….too lazy to sup nod a fellow gym-goer.
And you say your roommate is the socially inept one.
Make poor life choices and make us proud, slider.
Thank fucking GOD we’re only 10 coffee cups away from the weekend!
Canes with bourbon in the lemonade.
New motto
Charlie, you are a man among men. This was incredibly well written, and even though there’s no resolve, I still have that warm fuzzy you get after watching a good movie.
No shit actually lived in Hawaii for 10 years. Can confirm that ahi poke is the absolute shit.
Also GOOOOOOOD PLANT THE SEED CAROLINE. BREAK THEM UP NOOWWWW.
Shitty Chinese takeout.
“Don’t be a pussy.” Solid. That should become a workplace motto.
In awesome news that doesn’t piss me off, I found a small coffee joint that opens at 5 here so I can get my first dose of self-medication on the way to work. Owned by a kind old lady who greets you by name and gives you life advice every time you walk in the door. She gives me the sweet sauce of consciousness, I give her a dirty joke in return. She actually likes it.
This does not resonate with me
Get out.
Munch box.