An Ode Of Loathing

E-mail this post

Remember me (?)

All personal information that you provide here will be governed by the Privacy Policy of More...

To my boss,
in your ugly suits and perm
with your obsession to check behind me
but not behind yourself,
you annoy me.

To the office manager,
with your OCD and nosiness
and your insistence that you have your fingers in everything
but your own work,
I sometimes wish you would fall into a vat of hot oil.

To my fellow payroll employee,
who constantly berates our more lucrative payroll system
just because you are too stupid to understand it
I really wish
your children would trample you.

To my other fellow payroll employee,
who likes to stare over my shoulder,
maybe you are reading this
and will die of a combined heart attack and
perfume overdose.

To the receptionist,
who is never at her desk, cannot transfer calls properly
is always taking smoke breaks
and whines about work overload,
I really hope you get that other job.
(But I feel really sorry for them.)

To the owner,
who switches the lights off when he walks out of his office,
to help it stay cooler
I want you to know,
I left the air conditioning on last night.

To the staffer,
whose husband sends her roses every day,
and you complain about it in a silly attempt
to make someone half your age jealous.
I hope your next allergy strikes suddenly.

To the Vice President,
who agrees with everything said
I hope a gang of ninjas kidnaps you
and says:

To the people,
who bring their pets into "work"
and take over the conference room,
have you any idea how disgusting that is?
I sincerly wish your dog gets rabies and bites you on your left butt cheek.

To the idiots,
who mock the way I talk,
just because I know how to pronounce the word
does not mean I am a snob.

To all the branch employees
who apparently have no idea
how to do their jobs,
here is a clue:
It involves removing the pine cones from your asses.

To whoever I work with,
who finds this
I dare you to refute what I have written
and please,
see if you can get me fired.

To everyone else,
who will point out that I am not a poet,
let me just say,
try working here for awhile
and see how well your shrunken brain functions.

0 Responses to “An Ode Of Loathing”

Leave a Reply

      Convert to boldConvert to italicConvert to link


This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

the past


ATOM 0.3