Monday, February 27, 2006

Scared

Here I am, back again.

Man, was I sleepy this morning. I think I went to sleep twice just in the first two hours I was here. But then the working started.

And now, I'm back on the Internets conversing with the masses, or the one or two of you who happen about this blog.

So, what shall we converse about today. I guess, nothing, because there's nothing I want to talk about. How about those Olympics. That's a joke. One big joke.

Nobody I know watched the Olympics. Actually, no one I know watches American Idol either. So, I guess whatever whoever I know watches can't be considered a great gauge on what normal people are watching.

Okay, how about cable technicians. I hate cable technicians. One came out yesterday and screwed up my whole cable tv set-up. I had it so I could record ol' skool and with the DVR because Comcast won't let a brother record that good On Demand programming. So, I need a way around it. I also had it hooked up to two televisions in other rooms. But the technician wanted to be a big "B" about it and unhooked my whole set-up.

I wouldn't have even called omcast if On Demand was acting right. I gotta catch my Cathouse reruns. But whenever I hit the On Demand button, I kept getting an error message. At first I thought it might be the splitter, so I hooked the main line up directly to the cable box, and it still was acting up. So, I new either someone was stealing my cable, or somthing else was going on.

I told the technician it was coming from outside, but he acted like I didn't know what the heck I was talking about. And then he started acting all fruity when he saw the splitter. He called back to the office and tried to get me charged with hooking up extra lines. But luckily, the rep wasn't a "B' like him. So, he eventually left, and he took my splitter with him. Bas..., bad doodie person. Dangnammit. Always a brother.

That's right, he was a brother. Always one of my own trying to slide up to the devil by doing his work, like a that big eyed negro on Boondocks. People think that's a stereotype, but it's not. The ones that'll try to do it to a brother the worse is another brother, one of those house negroes. Hate'em almost as much as I ... Uh,oh, someone's coming.

I gotta go...

Friday, February 24, 2006

Food

Wow. My boss just left. So, I guess that I'm not fired yet. Yippee! I can eat. I can eat. Thank you Baby Jesus!

Back Again

Dang nammit. Three posts in two days. That's a record for me. That's like Superman/Clark Kent all rolled up into one. Although, I hate Superman and Clark Kent. I'm a villain. It's in my nature.

So, as you can guess, I'm doing nothing again. I went to a meeting, got a quick lunch, now I'm back at my desk "working." Ain't America great.

I probably shouldn't get too happy. I'm soo useless here, I can see them firing me today, right on the spot. I'm completely worthless. I have no leverage. I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't have a job Monday morning. Although I better hope I do. I'm always a paycheck away from living on the streets. Or worse, with my mama.

That's why I got all them ads on my new site. I'm trying to make some real money off these Internets. I recently signed up for Adbrite and let them put those porno ads on my site. I figured I'd get some real dough then. But then I saw some of them and decided that they just looked too tacky. So I had them removed. Or they should be gone by tomorrow.

But that hasn't stopped me. I'm thinking up some stuff like that dude who made a million dollars off of selling pixels on his web page. I'm thinking up something on them lines, except without the pixels because that's played.

I'm thinking more on the lines of boobage and eyeballs. That's all I'm going to say about that right now. Don't want anyone stealing my brand new idea. I couldn't handle someone else getting rich off me like Burger King already has.

P.S. I'll probably have another post for you at the end of the day so you'll know if I got fired today or not.

Half-Ehin' It

Here's another post from work. Pretty much half the office has gone for lunch. But there are still a few around that could "bust" me. So, I still gotta be careful.

As you can tell, I'm still getting paid not to do crap. I've spent the past two hours, off and on, checking out sites on the Internet. I feel like dirt for doing it. I should be doing something important, but here I am again typing this blog post. I should be ashamed of myself, except maybe the fact I don't have work to do is not my fault.

I really don't mind working. I won't say I love working, but I can't say I hate it either. Work comes easily to me. I figure the hardest part to having a job is getting up on time and getting there. That's like 50 percent of having a job. Another 25 percent is actually doing work. And the last 25 percent is doing your job well. But working at 75 percent ain't half bad.

The problem is when you're in a position like me, when you don't really have work to do. That right there means I'm half-a..., half-butting it at work. And it ain't even my fault. It's sad man. It's sooo sad. I feel like crying, except I don't because I know having a job where you don't do crap is better than having no job at all.

So, I guess I better be happy with what I got. At least I can pay the bills, even though I always feel like a worthless piece of doodie at the end of the day.

That's why I pray to Baby Jesus that I finally get some work to do, or win the Mega Millions tonight. If you don't play, you can't dream.

By the way, Xplicit has to take that MF off the site. I mean, how dare he use such explicit language on a public site like this. Little children could surf on by and see that MF and have their little monkey minds ruined. Plus, I don't think Jesus is cool with it. Pat Robertson told me so in a dream last night right after I got that bj from Ashanti

Thursday, February 23, 2006

This post comes from work. I sit here at my desk doing absolutely nothing. I feel bad. Plus, I can't check out the porn sites right now. Or download crap. Or really use any real bad foul language. My boss could walk by. Or another employee. And then that's my, uh, butt.

I usually don't post from work because of those reasons. Some IT tech geek could be reading all the crap I'm sending to my site. All IT geeks are sick and weird in the brain, including YOU. You know who you are, you sick bas.., uh , doodie head. That's right, you're a doodie head. Stop reading my stuff. I can't stand it when you read my stuff. That's my privacy there, you sick fre.., uh, bad person.

That's probably means that I'll never make another post from work. Especially to a site with M-F in the title. It's too nerve wrecking. I can't handle it. I feel like I'm about to explode. Help me, Baby Jesus. Give me work to do so that I don't go on the Internet and type this crap. I need work. PLEASE!

Uh Oh. Wait. I think that's nobody. In about 4 minutes my co-worker will be leaving for home. She passes right by me when she goes and gets her coat. I think I better change screens. She just went to the bathroom.

That was close. I'm so scared of being "found out." Sounds like I'm a pedo.., uh, I better not type that. They might have filters going. All of a sudden I'm being investigated by the FBI. That's why I better get off here.

Uh-Oh! Somebody's coming. I feel so dirty.