(A Random Post)

I don’t know how many people I’ve told, but if you haven’t been keeping up on The Yakville Times, you should know that I started my first fulltime JAY OH BEE this week. Four days in, and despite what I was thinking earlier, it turns out that it actually wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever come up with in deciding to jump into the fulltime gig just a weekend removed from school to “minimize any possible adjustment period” (Yak’s Mind, May 2006).

Still…I’m hardly in a position to complain about anything right now.

The life I’ve lived so far has been good to be, and has afforded me the chance to experience a wide range of different types of depression. Now I’m not going all British on you now, because to say that you’ve experienced depression isn’t the same as being depressed. Although it is indeed a fine line, like the difference between being a wine connoisseur and just a regular old alcoholic.

I’ve had a chance to taste many types of depression, but I have to say…it’s an entirely new type of depression you feel when you wake up at 6:45 AM and know that you won’t be home again for another 12 hours…and you realize for the first time this is how it’s going to be for the rest of your life…if you’re lucky. I mean…with the level of job security in this industry in this day and age…you never know.

But once they pay me, I’ll be back to walking on sunshine again. And don’t it feel good. See, I’m a simple man, I really am. Just directly deposit a lump sum of money into my savings account every so often, and all my problems vanish into the air, Shinobi-style.

So I’m proud to say that I’ve tasted a new vintage this week. A bittersweet melody of tastes – one that starts off with the promise of sweetness, quickly replaced by a flat, dull, bitter taste…and ends in a delightful splash of mint every two weeks.

A strong crop, really.

Also, today a bunch of people in my department went out to lunch, and since The Bossman invited me too, I decided to tag along. Though at this point, he could have strewn a box full of paperclips on the floor and asked me to pick them up with ma anus, and I would still have gladly done it.

I held my own on the small-talk end as best as you could expect, but I just don’t have that much to work with when they start talking about gas prices, Canadian politics, and real estate values in GODDAMN BURLINGTON. Still, I got some clean shots in against The Bossman, developed some comradery with my fellow fish-out-of-water chinks, and the dude who sits in the cubicle next to mine seems solid. Like when I eventually snap and decide to steal everything before burning this motherfucker down to the ground, if I ask him if he wanted in on this action, there’s a 30% chance he’d do it.

But after listening to where some of these guys commute in from everyday (I don’t even recognize some of the places that were mentioned – I think they were just making shit up), I couldn’t help but feel a bit better about my own (relative lack of) commute to and from work. It was a bit like having a conversation with a terminal cancer patient or MaxSnax from Ajax…but like seven times over. You can’t help but feel better about yourself.

Anyway, due to some people arriving late, retardedly slow service, and insane amounts of inane conversation, my lunch break for today took AN HOUR AND A HALF. And my grilled chicken sandwich and glass of Coke cost me TWELVE BUCKS!!! You fucking white people – so crazy, I love you.

So work is good. I hope they don’t fire me until after I manage to steal a couple more highlighters and crappy spiral notebooks from the supply closet.

“PC Load Letter?” What the fuck does that mean?”

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Destined to fight the world's evil, The WAMBAG endures massive battles involving impossible stunts, races on horse-pulled carriages, and the desecration of enchanting medieval castles (all done with dizzying computer graphics). Not only does the eye candy keep on coming, the tongue-in-cheek writing and deep Transylvanian accents perfect the film with a dose of dark humor.

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