I WANT to love you.... but I NEED you to stop being an asshole...

For all of you (meaning the one person who knows about this) that just got comfortable and settled in for some good dirt on me and McFly- well... you are in luck because he is included.. HOWEVER this post applies to more than one person, place, or thing in my life.

Recruiters:

With the exception of one recruiter, what is the deal?!?!?!? If I apply to a post regarding a specific position... that position should exist. If my resume, credentials, references and business suit wearing ass exists, then the job should have to exist!. Don't call me in (i.e. make me put on a suit) if you have NOTHING for me. It is a waste of my time AND YOURS. Also, please do not try to jam me in a position that is not a good fit for me or the company and ask me to just hold out until you get your bonus for placing me, and then you will find me something better. Ummmm... that would be a hell to the naw. I don't have the temperment for that and I will be hard to place after stabbing an employer in the eye all because you wanted that bonus.

Apartment Manager to the left of my humble abode:

Dude. You seemed like a nice guy. You rode in on your wheelchair ready to do a crackhead sweep. I will never forget the day I watched you jump out of the wheelchair to let the crackhead know it was all a ruse and you would whoop his crackheaded crack. I don't know how you could be so comfortable so close to open sores, but you let him know that you were willing to haz-mat yourself and show him who was running that bitch. When it turned out the smokers had swooped in and hooked your girl, you put her to the curb and kept it wheeling. I was PROUD of you. We had a few convos and you told me to let you know if there were ANY issues with your tenants. You put out the worst.. and then you let some more move in! What the hell. It was then that I noticed after the conversation with me, you were having conversations with yourself. Who cusses out the ice cream man when he isn't around. It's like the faintest Mr. Softee jingle gives you tourettes. Side note: Mr. Ice Cream Man: the WHOLE neighborhood knows you are selling weed out of the truck. Watch yourself.

hmmm- on to family...

Mama: For the first time ever... you need to save your own life. I can't do it. I'm not going to do it. and if you don't want to do it, why the hell should I? Them shakes ain't the shivers. Nuff said.

McFly: You sir.... need to stop waking me up in the middle of the night because something about the way I am snoring and drooling on my pillow, has got you feelin some type of way. I have NEVER been a wake me up in the middle of the night type of girl. I am game pretty much anytime except when I am asleep. And to top it off you don't even have the courtesy to come right and proper with your moves because middle of the night sex is like saturday late night after club hours food. You just want it warm, fast, and you don't care what it tastes like. I call bullshit. If you can't sleep, take your ass to Jack in the box. Keep your jack out my box.

And last but not least...

Dell: If my hands are nowhere near the mousepad, then my cursor should not move. I have resorted to typing with my hands curled over the keyboard and my elbows out. I could totally break into that move they do in the thriller video with way my hands are held. I can't even adress it further because typing this on your suck ass BRAND NEW bullshit self has flared my damn carpal tunnel up. Fucker.

Someone get me a coke...

P.S.: To my girl.... you can do it. Grab those boards by the throat and make them your bitch.