He also has a brilliant glossy photo collage above his desk. He spent the good part of his weekend taking dramatic shots of his car. Close ups of his hubcaps. Severe angles, rear of his car dominated in the foreground as the sightline dwindles theatrically to the hood. Symmetrically balanced composition of his left headlight. Jeezy pete, it's only a Honda Accord. I could almost understand if he souped it up like some barrio lowrider. It's factory direct for hamburger sake.

Most of these guys who I work with, and it's a fucking sausage party in my department, no soul saving estrogen unfortunately, are all implant tit drooling car nuts. Granted some of them are indeed younger than me, but they all act like high school grease monkeys. I like tits. Who wouldn't? But it makes my bowels move when they are hooting and hollering over a Victoria's Secret commercial. They question me on why I'm not bouncing off the walls like them. I point out that they are fake, to replies of "who cares!". Makes me wanna shove them to the ground and take their lunch money. Gonna start bringing in pacifiers and nap mats so I can have some adult time.

Thats another bone of contention. Fucking T.V. It roasts my chestnuts that I am subjected to nightly imputs of network television. Couple of times there was grumblings that the powers that be wanted to remove the cable connection from our room. You might have well had told a bunch of two year olds that you were gonna throw their binkies into the campfire.

Skipped out of work last night again. The previous night I was leaning back in my chair speculating on how many of my coworkers I would have a drink with. Not many. Then I was thinking, what if our datacenter moved to an ocean liner, and the hull cracked, how many would I allow onto the lifeboat I was commandeering. Not many. Droll jokes, repetitive verbal diarrhea, simpleminded dick squirting over petroleum balloons, automobile felching, pissing on things that have actual cultural merit claiming they are "boring, faggy, and dumb." wanna-be men.

Can't continue to float on my individualist freak raft in this sea of lowest common denominator problem adders for too much longer.