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2008-04-08 - 7:40 p.m.

"I looked at him askance" was the last line I wrote when all came tumbling down, worse than Humpty Dumpty. Never will I be able to rewrite those great lines of prose again, for I lost my labors when I hit "close" to the question, "Do you want to close all tabs?" ,

Oh Shit! Not again!

I was writing the tale of feeling Prissy & Bitchy all morning, in spite of this being the first time for 6 months that I haven't spilled the coffee as I poured it. Ever since the Boss bought the cheapest coffee maker made, Everyone has spilled thier coffee as they pour it. The glass pot is obviously defective, or for the conspiracy freaks, purposely made to spill our coffee as part of some twisted muslim malaysian plot to lower the morning productivity of American workers as they lose thier precious morning get up and go, one spill at a time.

I rather like that explanation better except instead of Alcaida, I think it's an unfathomable Dick Cheney / Neocon tactic to prevent us from being the early birds that get the worms.

Whew, Got all that people?? You heard it first right here!

Back to the prissy & bitchy....Well I brought in our old coffee pot that grinds the beans then brews them for Mr. Anal to use in the morning instead of the Commie p(l)ot, but when I came in today, he sloughed me off by stating, "Do I look like my last name is Barista?" I replied, "You sid you knew how to use it, but I come in and you act like a third world peasent who never saw a friggin coffe pot before, and we're all going to spill coffee again! I want fresh, good coffee you twit!" Well, I didn't actually say twit, I think I used some ethnic slur that' not acceptable at work, but you get the point.

I marched over and made my own coffee, which in spite of smelling heavenly and drawing envious looks from other departments just coming in, (OK, I made the envious part up) tasted like it was made with polluted swamp water and used coffee grounds!

Oh the horror of trying to show Mr. Anal how wonderful I am (and the coffee), and choking on bitter sludge. I poured the rest out while giving him one of those "I'd rather dump this precious nector of the Gods, than let you have some" look, and proceeded to stomp back to my desk.

I felt Prissy & Bitchy all morning until, after our conversation about not using all caps on his email cause I didn't like being "Shouted" at so early in the morning, to which he replied, "No one ever reads my email because I never get read reciets back so I want to make them noticable." So I felt much better after recieving one of his emails, and then answering "NO" to the question, "Do you want to send a read reciet out now?"

Curiouoso*, serving up petty revenge one unsent read reciet at a time!


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