That’s Pretty Remarkable

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I was talking with one of the guys that works in the mailroom and he said that I was the only person in the entire company that actually stops and talks with the mailroom guys. Not just a polite how are you, but an actual exchange.

Do you understand how insane that is? The company has thousands of employees. He has done the mail runs on every single route there is.

I am the only person that actually converses with them andĀ that is really sad.

I don’t get why they wouldn’t talk to them? They are super nice, chill and by the way, when I call for something they are super helpful.

It’s a very bourgeoisie versus proletariat mentality, rather unsettling.

I also am friendly with the facilities and security people. I help them and they help me. Not to mention, they are basically some of the only people that you can actually have a fun conversation with.

It’s pretty pathetic that I’m the only one that will take the time to chit chat with them.

It’s like I always say, I’m a woman of the people, but I hate the people.”

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This Give Me Faith

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There is a guy at work who is in his early twenties. He is always telling me tales of his debauched weekends with his friends.

He spent the majority of his summer weekends on Martha’s Vineyard with his boys that live there all year long.

The coupe de grace was Labor Day Weekend which ended in a bullshit arrest and drunken motorbike hijinks.

I am so happy to hear the younger generation isn’t just about retarded protests over nonsense and pussy ass bitches.

These boys have restored my faith in the young. They are doing what they should be doing, getting lit and fucking bitches.

They should not be politickingĀ and saying their feminists.

These young boys were doing dumb, drunken dude shit and it warmed my heart.

I don’t get the hatred of white boys, I actually have respect for these kids.

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I Don’t Think It’s For Me

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I returned to work yesterday after a week of vacation

I must admit, I’m not meant to work. I’m better than working.

Some people really thrive in working conditions, I’m not one of them.

I really need to bite the bullet and pull of the Anna Nicole dream, really old, really rich, really dead.

The trifecta!

I would love to win it through gambling, but that will never happen. The Anna Nicole method is far more feasible.

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I don’t really drink anymore. In the course of an entire year I may have alcoholic beverages on maybe five occasions.

I went out last night. I had three Captain and Cokes. I wasn’t particularly drunk.

However, this morning, I am not so much hungover, but I am not one hundred percent.

I’m functioning, but am very delayed.

I can remember when three Captain and Cokes would be like nothing, though this was in the days of virtually never getting a hangover, oh sweet youth.

Maybe it isn’t the alcohol, maybe it’s the realization of the vast Keno losses incurred.

In the words of every loser gambler, I’m due to hit and hit big!

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