Friday, 6 March 2009

You Be Fucking Nice !

I might have mentioned I was trying to be nice to people this year, as a change of pace, see if it reduces my cholesterol or some bollocks like that. Well it's March and I got my first complaint. Apparently someone doesn't appreciate my communication skills. Frankly I find this a bit galling, if people are going to complain anyway then I might as well just call them a bunch of twats, it's rude but honest and then I wouldn't mind the complaints.

I'm good at telling people how to do their job properly, why can't they appreciate that? When it comes to explaining to people how mind blowingly incompetent they really are, I'm the best. But do the fuckers appreciate my constructive input? No, they complain! Showing yet another level of astoundingly porcine judgement.

Before you start, I have no bloody idea what "porcine" means and no I am not going to "Google it", fuck off muppet chops, hire a consultant to explain it. Ok, I lied, it means "pig like", from the Latin "porcus". Yes, I studied Latin at school "canis est in horta", the dog is in the garden. Is that what the Romans built their empire on? The only thing I learned about building an empire was it takes more than a day. I think the horticulture teacher told me that when he was talking about his broad beans.

It's a shame because I would been a brilliant emperor, even if I do say so myself. I am good at telling people what to do, I enjoy it anyway, beats the crap out of working for a living. Maybe I need to hire less sensitive people, then I wouldn't have to be nice anymore, I could just swear at them all day. That might be the only way for me to achieve job satisfaction. Or maybe I could hire someone specifically to swear at, a politician perhaps, or Jonathon Ross.

Ok, back to the real world and trying to be nice to people. Bunch of fucking half-wits that they are, not all of them are half-wits, some have no wits at all. They are the Witless Wonders and somehow I attract them in droves.

Ok that's enough, back to the real world; nice people, everything nice, me nice. I'm a bit hungry though, I'm a bastard when I'm hungry, you should ask Girlfriend when we go shopping for clothes. If I don't speak for five minutes and refuse to try something on she'll ask me if I'm hungry, not very sophisticated is it? eh? Childish really.

Right, I'm done, fully vented, thanks for being there for me (I mean the blog tool, not you melon-head)