(no subject)
Sep. 17th, 2003 11:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
apocalypsosBush: No Proof of Saddam Role in 9-11
*user just stares and blinks for a minute, then ...*
You know what? I'm going to be nice today and I'm not going to say a damn thing. Nope, not a thing, because if you people know me by now, then you know what the hell I'm thinking anyway. So I think I'll just sit here and stare at the headline until it goes away.
...
Why isn't it going away?
Urgh. Le sigh.
********
Just another random thought I had lying around ... if you work on the assembly line at a conveyor belt factory, how long before you go insane?
********
Went to the temp job today, and did maybe about an hour's worth of work. But nobody seemed to care, really. It was great. They'd be like, "Well, we just ran out of work for you, so just sit here and stare at the wall."
And I'd say, "Can I read my romance novel?" And they'd say, "Sure."
And I'd say, "Can I write story notes?" And they'd say, "Not a problem."
And I'd say, "Can I try and guess what's behind Door Number Two for cash and prizes?" And they'd say, "It's the ladies's room, Jennifer." Which, coincidentally, I was not going to guess, which is why I'm now the proud owner of a llama and a year's supply of pickled pigs feet.
*user just stares and blinks for a minute, then ...*
You know what? I'm going to be nice today and I'm not going to say a damn thing. Nope, not a thing, because if you people know me by now, then you know what the hell I'm thinking anyway. So I think I'll just sit here and stare at the headline until it goes away.
...
Why isn't it going away?
Urgh. Le sigh.
********
Just another random thought I had lying around ... if you work on the assembly line at a conveyor belt factory, how long before you go insane?
********
Went to the temp job today, and did maybe about an hour's worth of work. But nobody seemed to care, really. It was great. They'd be like, "Well, we just ran out of work for you, so just sit here and stare at the wall."
And I'd say, "Can I read my romance novel?" And they'd say, "Sure."
And I'd say, "Can I write story notes?" And they'd say, "Not a problem."
And I'd say, "Can I try and guess what's behind Door Number Two for cash and prizes?" And they'd say, "It's the ladies's room, Jennifer." Which, coincidentally, I was not going to guess, which is why I'm now the proud owner of a llama and a year's supply of pickled pigs feet.
