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First time? Start here. Read "The Primer" and follow the link at the end. Chronological order makes more sense for the stories.

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Blogger Profile: The name's Northe.
Been blogging since: September 2004.
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Home Angry Time Stories Hey, Another Year Here
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Written by Northe   
Monday, 28 January 2008 01:26
First time? Start here. Read "The Primer" and follow the link at the end. Chronological order makes more sense for the stories.

The New Year came and went like a flash, never quite as eventful as some of the local boobery would have you believe, agreed? The good thing about ringing in the New Year is that we get to look forward to a whole other year of work.. yeah, great.

As most of you dread your decades of toil to come, walking into your usual office with co-workers you'd sooner gib in the name of John Fucking Rambo than offer them a whiff of the bathroom after you launched a sea pickle, your buddy Northe gets to walk in on the glorious Male Boss. Indeed, walk in on Male Boss futzing around with his 9 deck stereo system circa 1982 crackle, pop and hum thru his speakers until I am subjected to this. Go ahead, stay a while and listen..

Now as happy as "Brownprideroldies" is to be sharing that travesty of a song with the world of You Tube, I assure you I met Male Boss', while wearing a stinky shirt, sweat pants with a sheer worn down crotch and filthy socks, beckoning me to get up and do something that looked like "The Twist" with as cold and hard as a stare as that same You Tube uploader. All I needed was loc's and a button up shirt so I could just affix the top button to pull off the full effect.

"Come on, Northe! Its the New Years!" then singing in his horrid accent, "Giddy up Ding-dong!"

If this is how ppl celebrate bringing in the New Year, I want no part of it. That is to say, unless maybe I'm at a lofty position overlooking said celebration with a sniper rifle. Then, I could see some corny ass New Year's Party being fun.. only then could I..

Seconds thereafter, I turned my back to him and immersed myself in any place I could pull this here move with little to no repercussions aside from using a little extra detergent for that particular load of laundry. Oh, lemme guess.. that still from the new Rambo means nothing to you cuz you didn't see it? Well listen up, jerkass, you need to see it to find out what all happens! Two kills per minute in that movie.. I've said more than I need to.

So after this charade that has left me feeling embarrassed for Male Boss, he continues to bring out all the old insipid crap he seasoned his youth with. The great news is that Female Boss has been secretly seething at her desk this entire morning waiting for her moment to strike back. You see, she has been keeping an eye on him quite keenly. When the opportunity presents itself, Female Boss gets up from her desk and goes over to the stereo.

A quick set up of the scene places Male Boss on all fours fucking around with the wiring on the floor. Female Boss storms to the front of the stereo and gives the volume a liberal twist. The result is nothing more than a noise, shorting sound and a pop that makes Male Boss jump up about a foot and a half. Female Boss' play was so well timed she waited for his head to be right next to the floor speaker and WHAM, let him have it. Screaming ensues.. illogical, irrational barking and hooting.

After quips about as notable as a Shake N Bake dinner, the discussion goes toward our usual direction of folly.

Female Boss starts up with, "So the deal is I am going to from now on tell our clients that you are no longer working for the company and have become a fag Euro DJ, right?"

The kicker to this is she slams his favorite cordless phone straight down to the floor smashing it at Male Boss' feet. Male Boss is just standing there, fiery red, with no words coming out of his angry maw.

"You're a complete waste of my time!" she screams.

Male Boss goes for his pack of cigarettes.. this here kind. Now I don't know the first thing about letting a dried up leaf of some plant control my life, but these aren't gonna get you a free pass to walk around in Marlboro country.. more likely they're your ticket for a good ass whoopin'. They are as thick as like 3 fuckin' toothpicks, I mean is he serious? How can you even handle something so delicate let alone flutter it about your face and smoke it? Anyway, she grabs his pack up smokes, goes over to the kitchen and dumps them down the garbage disposal.

"I warned you!" she yells.

The soothing roar of the garbage disposal makes quick work of his cigs.

Male Boss lets loose, "You fucking bitch! You have a big mental problem. A big fucking mental problem!"

Female Boss lashes back like a foreigner with English for a 3rd language might, "I know I do! I have a big fucking mental problem, YOU!"

Yeah, that made sense. It gets pretty frustrating that these two rarely ever share barbs worth reporting for shit talking purposes. If anything, I hope that this year brings much more physical violence and acting out to the office. This blog could always use more of that.