inveterate grumps on the loose!!!

never had the chance to post this soon as I wrote part of this on the notepad given to us during our training which I intentionally left in the locker because the mere sight of it makes me want to shove shit off their esophagus!

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Did you know that my trainers (need I say more?) and a pack of cigarettes have one thing in common? They're all dangerous to my health. In fact, I'm perilously close to adapting the most unhygienic form of contortion. Biting my nails. My toe nails. I think they have perfected the art of causing undiluted stress which drives me to fumigate my lungs every chance I get since they are by far more toxic than nicotine anyway.

And my badly abused gums are screaming bloody murder from excessive and forceful gnashing every time I get this urgent need to castrate them in cold daylight.

Believe me, if my annoyance could kill? They'd be long dead with bones so hideously rotten even worms would learn to say the word GROSS with feelings.

So short of decapitating all of them, I just wrote a premature but certainly heartfelt eulogy should my wish for their early demise come into fruition (with all possible haste, if you please).

There is absolutely no reasoning with these inveterate grumps because even the most brilliant philosopher would go stark raving mad given half the chance to argue with their convoluted logic.

They want things done and learned like we could all command the sun to stop shinning! Worse, their instructions almost always come in pairs as if we're all certifiable morons by birth who can't get things done without constant repetition.

And their photographic memory is simply astounding. Really. Regardless of the circumstance or justification, all our mistakes are in precise chronological order which they can recall at any given time to suit their perverted purposes (which primarily includes honing their oratorical prowess).

My slightly generous nature prompted me to share. I mean, this is my way of cutting down the extremely possible risk of my slow but sure plunge down the drain straight to an asylum. And I could at least stop myself from going bungee jumping (in Macau, perhaps) without the rope if I'm glued to this very slow pc in the training room waiting for my boss.

So there. Whinning sure is a great way to relieve stress. You guys should try it sometimes.

There. I feel a thousand times better now. Just send me your optometrist's bill if you somehow ended up with an irreversible eye damage from reading this. I couldn't seem to stop myself once I started. Sorry. And thank you. That is, if you were able to endure my literary masterpiece until this part where I can say that you either read this out of curiosity or just because you have nothing better to do (just kidding). And for the record, this particular sentiment is not a summary of my general disposition in life. I'm normally good natured (my friends would shout a resounding NOOOOO but their opinion doesn't count since they still love me despite my ..uh.. occassional temper). I have to cut this short. About time I did anyway.