I know you’ve all been waiting with bated breath (unlike me, who just has “baity” breath following this weekend’s Sushi-Splosion) for the results of our very first-ever episode of C’est Vrai, You Suck.
So, without further ado: It seems most of y’all agree with me in my schizophrenic way (yes, I had pieces of my brain arguing both positions on this one — get used to it). To wit, Chuckweasel probably could have stood to eat a little shit in order to keep food on the table, but at the same time, HOW DARE THEY FIRE OUR CHUCKWEASEL??? BASTARDS!!! I don’t know if this means I’m right or just means I’ve found a bunch of twisted bitches just like me, but either way, yay us!
The weird thing is the way people at work are treating me (I may not have mentioned this, but Chuckweasel and I work(ed) together). Anyhoo, the evil sneaky ones who we have since discovered were most to blame for the firing of Chuckweasel? (In that they went running and told the boss on him — how adult!) Them fuckers did not speak to me for 2 solid weeks except when they absolutely had to for work-related bidness — and even then, THERE WAS FEAR. Lovely, delicious fear. And this is even before I’d completely found out what they’d done! One of them (the one I KNEW would break first) came over and apologized to me… um, sweetie? An apology is an admission of GUILT.
The rest of the staff — including and almost especially McManagement — is treating me like a candidate for the Home for Confederate Widows. I get more “So, how are you doing?” ‘s and “How are you holding up?” ‘s than I ever thought possible… Hey, people, seriously? Chuckweasel was FIRED, not killed in glorious battle!
But I gotta admit… I do enjoy the fear.