fuck this job.com

ok, so i dont work at the reviled K-Mart (see All-time posts). i feel for people who work in retail, and especially sorry for those at places like K-Mart.

yet the phrase had been stuck in my head for what-- like 2 years now? "this job is clown shoes".

well, MY job is clown shoes. its a dog and pony show for the client and for some local government offices.

fuck-- the phone, be right back.

it was just a phone call about more crap about parking spaces that i couldnt care less for.

even our clients are fucking clown shoe-wearing clowns. unlike normal people that send chocolate as a holiday greeting, we get hurting fish jerkey, fish crackers, tins of tuna, and someone sent middle-eastern sweets. how original, how multi-cultural of you...how nasty. not that you can eat them-- they fall apart between your fingers.

Well, I was told today by the guy who runs the red kettle drive that we had to get more money put in the pot or else. I am perpleexed what am I supposed to do...mug little old ladies? After a hard day of standing out front and begging people for money, I went to my second job, the wonderful sport of dumpster diving. I found a nicejacket and a pair of shoes at my first stop and then hit up my favorite bakery and was excited to see that they were kind enough to toss out some chocolate long johns and a cake. Also gathered up about a trash bag full of cans, so looks like I'll have little change in the ol' pocket.