The Return of Evil Temp

I inquired on the well-being of Mr. Evil Temp. Apparently, he is still toiling as slave labor for this company.

Profile of Evil Temp:
Height: 5'11"
Hair: Blond
Eyes: E-V-I-L
Evil background:
(1) voluntarily ratted out the other temp about his slacker ways (I called them survival techniques), which resulted in his expulsion that day
(2) attended extra office hours with supervisor to earn brown-nosing points
(3) acted as office spy not only on temps, but on the few, rare permanent hires
(4) cut into my work to exert his own self-importance and ensure his temporary permanence
(5) made decaf coffee in the pot clearly designated for regular coffee

I am happy to know not only did I outlast Evil Temp, and come out as winner on Temp Survivor, but I am now moving on to the S------ Big Brother House. He was the main reason why I was paranoid and lived in contant fear of being fired for 6 months.

Oh Evil Temp, I hope you are happy with yourself and the work purgatory that is now your fate. Muuhahaha. I, on the other hand, am going to get gold fronts from my dentist, which is all covered by my new insurance.

Ever tightening noose

Our project manager consultant has been fired. It's strange since he still shows up to work and inhabits the office behind me. He said that his boss has set up other work for him and he will still be working for E----- (company confidential due to the chip they implanted in my retina). I believe that he just refuses to leave, which is a great strategy. Way back when the other "freelancer" was fired on the spot, he also said he was not worried since he had a job lined up. Obviously everyone is lying and this is purely a defense mechanism. I, on the other hand, would swipe my good pen and say, "Fine. You're all assholes anyways. I'm going on vacation."

It's very sad to see a middle-aged man who just the other day was worth $150,000 annually is now relegated to hole punching documents to tidy up the publisher's untouched archives, so he can feel useful. Well, it's not that sad since he was super cocky and I questioned his usefulness daily.

Once the iron hammer was thrown down, we were called into a meeting to reassure one another that we would be employed the next day. Of course my job is safe. I'm not even on the roster. For all I know, the firing manager probably thinks that my salary is going towards a high-quality postage machine. I'm going to change my name to Pitney Bowes just to be sure.

I'm going to streamline this need for attention from pure temper tantrum to a more inviting forum for concert updates, album "reviews," and as a means to convince everyone that what they're listening to is wrong and the soundtrack to my life is better than theirs. All while retaining that special acrimonious tone. I have also come to realize that I know nothing about music- technically, historically or otherwise. I am, however, an emotional trainwreck and a sonic sponge that can identify what is great from the over hyped-throw aways. Enough with the pretense and more of the musically-tinged, pessimistic, ultimately vacuous yarns. I really need a new job or hobby or friends or maybe i'll have a baby.

My Sigma Chi paddle has been retired

I moved into my new apartment on Thursday and I love it. The night before I was at Regina Spektor's marathon show (post to follow), so of course the procrastination left my room fully in tact. Fortunately, I have some bit of reason left and disassembled my bed on Monday. The only ability that outshines my procrastination gift is to make something happen under immense pressure ( I guess those two feed into one another). I got home 1 hour before the movers were to arrive. I packed the remaining 2/3 of my clothes into bags that came from nowhere, jammed the remaining contents of my room into 3 storage boxes, packed the TV, moved everything into the living room and mopped my room. The movers were 10 mins late, so it all worked out perfectly.

Tonight I was lulled to sleep by the muffled sound of passing cars that a very euphoric me pretended was a polluted, syringe-laden Corpus Chrisiti Gulf of Mexico ocean. As opposed to the previous apartment where I woke to screaming children, 4 different firetrucks, car alarms and other sounds of the apocalypse while the 4 horsemen made their frozen waffles and coffee each morning. My only complaint is that the new apartment is a bit unrennovated, pre-warish with the feeling that it is possibly haunted. I'm sure once my underwear is strewn about it will start feeling a little more homey.

Top 5 Embarrassing Songs on the Accuradio Playlist to Play in the Dead Silence of my Cubicle:
5. Shake Your Love - Debbie Gibson
4. all Journey songs
3. Downloading Porn with Davo - The Moldy Peaches
2. Stroke Me - Billy Squire
1. Cume On Feel the Noize- Quiet Riot (it's even spelled annoyingly)