Pantera
22-06-2005, 19:07
Why do I want to corrupt everything pure and sweet?
Because, in a little over an hour, I'll be watching at a haughty, bitch-ass 100G a year corporate cocksmoke stare down his nose and fire me because I burned a dooby, when he's 'lawfully' stealing from every employee that works at his plant. Nickles and dimes may seem like change to some folks, but when he's stealing a few cents here and there, every week, from a thousand-odd employees, I'd call that a fucking crime. Far more of a crime than me burning a doober at home, on my days off.
I want to smother the world until it stops it's feeble struggles.
I can already see it. A room full of corporate assholes, staring at me like I'm a rapist. "Mister Cox..." They'll say. "We've recieved word that you failed the random drug test with a trace amount of marijuana."
Not shocked in the slightest, my reply will be "Oh?"
"Oh yes. I managed to hang up the phone with my pampered wife and kids long enough to see this. Now, I don't have alot of time because I'll soon be eating a 200$ dinner at a place you'll never even see the inside of unless you're cleaning the floors, so I'll be brief. Even though you're a stellar employee with vast potential, we're going to have to let you go."
Feeling bile rise in the back of my throat, my reply will be "Oh?"
His comb-over won't hide the shine atop his head as he nods in satisfaction "Oh yes. It doesn't matter that you've never brought your occasional dooby to work. Your family squabbles have, unlike myself, never invaded the workplace, and you've never complained about the ungodly treatment you've recieved from management or that you've never stolen a greasy fucking cent from this shithole. None of that matters. You smoked a joint on your day off, and now: You're fired."
To which my response will be "Rot in hell, you wretched fuck. When you're driving your $80,000 SUV home, I'll be wondering where my next 7$ an hour fuckfest will be situated. I'll be wondering if I can make it 'til then on the final, meager excuse for a paycheck I have coming..."
And I'll be wondering how it'll be for you, kicking around your inane problems. Your wife's depression. Your son's drinking. Your daughter's whorish behavior. All this meaningless shit will seem like an insurmountable peak to you, just like my petty, minumum wage bullshit troubles seem to me.
I want to see all that is good and green shrivel and blacken under my fury.
But I won't do what I want to do. I won't roast every fancy-pants corporate asshole I see. I won't crash my pickup into his $800,000 pad. I won't listen to your shrieks.
I'll laugh, because you'll never know that my marijuana tainted piss filled your coffee pot. You'll never know that I slept with your daughter in highschool. You'll never know that your favorite gold-plated pen has been on my balls a dozen times.
You'll never know how much I want to breath that fire and smoke all around, until you're just a wretched mass of powdery blood and charred bones.
But I won't. I'll roll over, and look for that next $7/hour fuckfest. That's what I'll do.
Because, in a little over an hour, I'll be watching at a haughty, bitch-ass 100G a year corporate cocksmoke stare down his nose and fire me because I burned a dooby, when he's 'lawfully' stealing from every employee that works at his plant. Nickles and dimes may seem like change to some folks, but when he's stealing a few cents here and there, every week, from a thousand-odd employees, I'd call that a fucking crime. Far more of a crime than me burning a doober at home, on my days off.
I want to smother the world until it stops it's feeble struggles.
I can already see it. A room full of corporate assholes, staring at me like I'm a rapist. "Mister Cox..." They'll say. "We've recieved word that you failed the random drug test with a trace amount of marijuana."
Not shocked in the slightest, my reply will be "Oh?"
"Oh yes. I managed to hang up the phone with my pampered wife and kids long enough to see this. Now, I don't have alot of time because I'll soon be eating a 200$ dinner at a place you'll never even see the inside of unless you're cleaning the floors, so I'll be brief. Even though you're a stellar employee with vast potential, we're going to have to let you go."
Feeling bile rise in the back of my throat, my reply will be "Oh?"
His comb-over won't hide the shine atop his head as he nods in satisfaction "Oh yes. It doesn't matter that you've never brought your occasional dooby to work. Your family squabbles have, unlike myself, never invaded the workplace, and you've never complained about the ungodly treatment you've recieved from management or that you've never stolen a greasy fucking cent from this shithole. None of that matters. You smoked a joint on your day off, and now: You're fired."
To which my response will be "Rot in hell, you wretched fuck. When you're driving your $80,000 SUV home, I'll be wondering where my next 7$ an hour fuckfest will be situated. I'll be wondering if I can make it 'til then on the final, meager excuse for a paycheck I have coming..."
And I'll be wondering how it'll be for you, kicking around your inane problems. Your wife's depression. Your son's drinking. Your daughter's whorish behavior. All this meaningless shit will seem like an insurmountable peak to you, just like my petty, minumum wage bullshit troubles seem to me.
I want to see all that is good and green shrivel and blacken under my fury.
But I won't do what I want to do. I won't roast every fancy-pants corporate asshole I see. I won't crash my pickup into his $800,000 pad. I won't listen to your shrieks.
I'll laugh, because you'll never know that my marijuana tainted piss filled your coffee pot. You'll never know that I slept with your daughter in highschool. You'll never know that your favorite gold-plated pen has been on my balls a dozen times.
You'll never know how much I want to breath that fire and smoke all around, until you're just a wretched mass of powdery blood and charred bones.
But I won't. I'll roll over, and look for that next $7/hour fuckfest. That's what I'll do.