04-30-2009, 01:37 PM
Dear Howard Feltersnatch MD,
Lately I've found that my desire to point out the utter idiocy and obvious mental deficiencies in others has overtaken my innate internal muting mechanism, causing many an awkward moment and the occasional physical altercation (especially in public). It is creating a serious problem for me at work, as I work with a collection of hamfisted shitbarns that can't spell their names correctly without looking down at their nametags - and even then sometimes can't do it right. In fact, just the other day a co-worker did something so staple-my-own-dick stupid it was all I could do to not kick him in the junk and slap him across the face at the same time. I hear a constant ringing in my ears now at work, and it lessens when I leave but then I get on the highway and some douchenozzle can't figure out how to merge and causes me to almost ram him off the road and off the bridge to his ultimate demise while I scream obscenities at him and vow that if I ever find out who he is I will make it my mission to find his immediate family members and berate them in a loud, obnoxious pig-latin tirade that would make everyone around them laugh and blush and cry and vomit all at once.........
So should I eat that last Girl Scout Cookie in the breakroom, or not?
Lately I've found that my desire to point out the utter idiocy and obvious mental deficiencies in others has overtaken my innate internal muting mechanism, causing many an awkward moment and the occasional physical altercation (especially in public). It is creating a serious problem for me at work, as I work with a collection of hamfisted shitbarns that can't spell their names correctly without looking down at their nametags - and even then sometimes can't do it right. In fact, just the other day a co-worker did something so staple-my-own-dick stupid it was all I could do to not kick him in the junk and slap him across the face at the same time. I hear a constant ringing in my ears now at work, and it lessens when I leave but then I get on the highway and some douchenozzle can't figure out how to merge and causes me to almost ram him off the road and off the bridge to his ultimate demise while I scream obscenities at him and vow that if I ever find out who he is I will make it my mission to find his immediate family members and berate them in a loud, obnoxious pig-latin tirade that would make everyone around them laugh and blush and cry and vomit all at once.........
So should I eat that last Girl Scout Cookie in the breakroom, or not?
I'm.......kind of a big deal. People know me.