We Are Humble Factory

I need medication. Definitely. I can't help but let these people get to me. They influence me to much. I'm talking about the customers. These dumb shits that think they're entitled to something. They think it's OK to yell out hey! when I'm with someone already. Or they think I'm going to be copacetic with them coming in right before the store closes to fix their stolen computer. It's not alright. I'm not alright with it. This shouldn't be my job. This shouldn't be any body's job. Nobody should be paid to work with these dumb assholes. These incompetent jerk-offs who want me to wipe their asses with my nose.

Angry has three syllables when I'm angry.

I'm posting from someone elses computer tonight. At my girlfriend's place specifically. It's kind of cool. Like when a celebrity comes to your hometown to speak or make some other such appearance. Except I'm not a celebrity. And nobody really cares where I am...

I quit smoking cigarettes two months ago. But today I broke down and bought a pack at the gas station on the way to work. I only smoked two. One after I left the gas station and another just before I got to work. The first one felt good. It felt great. It felt like all my problems were melting off. The second one wasn't the same. My throat hurt and I got a crazy headrush. I felt sick and didn't finish it. At a stoplight, I waved over a bum on the side of the road holding up a cardboard pizza box lid. I asked if he smoked and he gave me a look like I was speaking some insane language he didn't understand. But when I showed him the pack of cigarettes he said,

Hell yeah, man!

I passed him the pack and told him I was quitting, and he was actually doing me a favor.

Real Groovy...

Yeah, real groovy thing addiction is and not being in control of your own body. Fuck...