work . . . FUCK work. I swear to god, I am so fucking sick of it. I work in a library. It's not much a library as it is a coffin, filled with living cadavers that cough up bits of Dust Bowl and act like I want to hear what they have to say - I DON'T! I don't give a shit about your grandchildren not loving you, that your Janet Evanovich book is late, or that your catheter keeps breaking off in your grainy crevasses of your fat tags. I simply don't care. I smile because I have to, not because you think that a PBS documentary on the Civil War the reminds you of your childhood or how you wish that you could eat solids. you know what would make me laugh? A rabid dog, owned by Michael Vick, eating her broken hip or their stents collapse.
the other reason that I hate working at the library is because these fucking high school twats are loud - too loud. these rotting cunts have bigger mouths than their wide set gash lips. jesus christ - if I have to hear about one more fucking "youtube" conversation or why their parents didn't buy them an escalade or why their dads think that they are "too cute" and shouldn't tell anyone else about their late night "talks." fuck, shut up - all I want to do is poor concrete down their throats and kick that mistake out of their lazy fish market smelling slit. I really want them to drive and jack knife on I-95 and kill a bus of illiterate special athletes. ohhh, and before I forget - if I ever see another dog in a $1000 bag, I promise to have their faces run over by a steam roller.
But, the one thing that annoys me the most, out of anything else, is my break. I get one hour for a lunch break. apparently, that is also the same hour in which every other librarian is on their cycle. isn't that wonderful, the only male working in the library gets to eat his lunch to the sounds of 12 women who, again, have their cock traps ooze another monthly reminder that their husbands fuck the girl scouts and holes in bathroom walls instead of deep dicking their mucus holes (it would be 17, but 5 useless holes queef nothing, but the Great Depression. I want to sew all of their pussies shut so I can eat one meal without having to hear another batch of rotten eggs being flushed.
well, just great - all I can think about now are gushing gashes, talking gashes, and unloved gashes. I need to clear my head - I think I will watch this 8 min. porn of this heavy mom screaming and moaning like the monster from the Black Lagoon.
