† SINISTER PUBLICATIONS†

So I applied to a full time supervisor gig to a fucken mediocre position, and yo, before you judge me and start hitting me with, “how do you know it’s mediocre,” well I am an acting supervisor for it. Sup leaves, and I think, mmmmm tasty opportunity, but my soul warns me, this is gay. Not like OMG rainwbows and parades, more like for a dollar more, you can be more of a corpo slut and get to lick for shoe space, more suede or buck. But the days are shittier. And guess what, I applied for it and got SHUT DOWN WORSE than the moniker for the Gulf of MURICA! I wasn’t devastated but I got myself in a glimpse of why did I even want that shit. I hate interviews, I hate management, I hate the whole fucken gig, but I am there because life decided I was OK, maybe a little above average, not as mediocre as the ones who have to do the scraping with the dung stick. And I got home, grabbed and a beer and fucken something hit me.

I just wanted to be wanted, to be told, “we need you.”

Validate me like a fucken parking ticket before I expire and your beat up 90s Honda get’s towed.