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lady_t_220*LT stalks in, snarling and giving the evil eye to anything that passes her way*
Wolvermuse: So how was work?
LT: *grrrrrrrrrrrrrr*
Wolvermuse: Not so good then?
LT: *GRRRRRR*
Wolvermuse: You gonna' say anything or are you just gonna' growl at stuff?
LT: *GRRRRRRRRRRRR*
Wolvermuse: I'll take that as a no, then...
So... thankfully for me, it happened worst over the weekend when I didn't have to deal with it, but as I noted on Friday one of those fekking Spanish bastards has taken to (I'm assmung it's) getting exceedingly drunk and then barfing up in the bathroom. He'd rised most of it away on Friday, but it was on Saturday that he pissed people off, because he'd thrown up all OVER the bathroom.
*LT gags and tries reeeealy hard not to think about it*
Again I say thank goodness it wasn't me who had to deal because in no fucking way would it have happened.
Problem is, now the whole room stinks to high heaven and we cannot get rid of the smell.
It's really grossing me out, to be honest. Most bodily secretions I can deal with, but anything solid or anything that involves chunks is way the fuck out.
Definitely need to find a new job. Nine months of nothing overly gross (except for towel-boy #5 who was really more comical than anything else) and now we have seriously mingin' Spaniards to disrupt my routine. *shakes fists and screams at them*
When Lesley complained at the guilty, inconsiderate bastard about it, warning him that if anything like that happened again then he was going to be out on his ear, the shithead started pretending that he only spoke Spanish. To pour both salt and lemon juice on that one, he came down a few hours later and requested a 6:15 start to breakfast in perfect English.
Lesley said he could come down whater the fuck time he liked to "start breakfast" but he wasn't getting any bloody food till she was good and ready.
My prediction of the day is that... if today sucked bad, tomorrow's gonna' suck worse. It'll be hot again, like it was hot today (and boy, was it hot out there. I sat in the sun for 15 minutes and the heat on my jeans was so intense I could almost feel it burning me) and, while it's good that the evil Spanish people are leaving, it's also bad because we have to strip down and scrub EVERYTHING in their wake.
Basically, I don't want to do it. It's manky and disgusting and I'm feeling unappreciated.
I'm also having a random superiority complex moment, based on the fact that my dear esteemed colleagues seem to grow more and more stupid every day. They were all freaking out about the possibility of being in a car during a lightning storm. I pointed out that the car was a pretty safe place to be because it acts like a Faraday cage.
They all said they rmemebered hearing that but thought it was because the rubber tyres earthed you.
-_-
Then they went off on one about plane crashes and I told them that, statistically speaking, you're more likely to die in your bathroom than you are in a plane, so then they looked at me like I'd gone all out again. *sighs*
And this is why I don't often speak at work... because when I do, virtually no one knows what I'm talking about. And even if they do, they seem annoyed that I've disrupted their histrionics by talking statistics at them.
Yeah, I really need a new job...
*sighs*
Wolvermuse: So how was work?
LT: *grrrrrrrrrrrrrr*
Wolvermuse: Not so good then?
LT: *GRRRRRR*
Wolvermuse: You gonna' say anything or are you just gonna' growl at stuff?
LT: *GRRRRRRRRRRRR*
Wolvermuse: I'll take that as a no, then...
So... thankfully for me, it happened worst over the weekend when I didn't have to deal with it, but as I noted on Friday one of those fekking Spanish bastards has taken to (I'm assmung it's) getting exceedingly drunk and then barfing up in the bathroom. He'd rised most of it away on Friday, but it was on Saturday that he pissed people off, because he'd thrown up all OVER the bathroom.
*LT gags and tries reeeealy hard not to think about it*
Again I say thank goodness it wasn't me who had to deal because in no fucking way would it have happened.
Problem is, now the whole room stinks to high heaven and we cannot get rid of the smell.
It's really grossing me out, to be honest. Most bodily secretions I can deal with, but anything solid or anything that involves chunks is way the fuck out.
Definitely need to find a new job. Nine months of nothing overly gross (except for towel-boy #5 who was really more comical than anything else) and now we have seriously mingin' Spaniards to disrupt my routine. *shakes fists and screams at them*
When Lesley complained at the guilty, inconsiderate bastard about it, warning him that if anything like that happened again then he was going to be out on his ear, the shithead started pretending that he only spoke Spanish. To pour both salt and lemon juice on that one, he came down a few hours later and requested a 6:15 start to breakfast in perfect English.
Lesley said he could come down whater the fuck time he liked to "start breakfast" but he wasn't getting any bloody food till she was good and ready.
My prediction of the day is that... if today sucked bad, tomorrow's gonna' suck worse. It'll be hot again, like it was hot today (and boy, was it hot out there. I sat in the sun for 15 minutes and the heat on my jeans was so intense I could almost feel it burning me) and, while it's good that the evil Spanish people are leaving, it's also bad because we have to strip down and scrub EVERYTHING in their wake.
Basically, I don't want to do it. It's manky and disgusting and I'm feeling unappreciated.
I'm also having a random superiority complex moment, based on the fact that my dear esteemed colleagues seem to grow more and more stupid every day. They were all freaking out about the possibility of being in a car during a lightning storm. I pointed out that the car was a pretty safe place to be because it acts like a Faraday cage.
They all said they rmemebered hearing that but thought it was because the rubber tyres earthed you.
-_-
Then they went off on one about plane crashes and I told them that, statistically speaking, you're more likely to die in your bathroom than you are in a plane, so then they looked at me like I'd gone all out again. *sighs*
And this is why I don't often speak at work... because when I do, virtually no one knows what I'm talking about. And even if they do, they seem annoyed that I've disrupted their histrionics by talking statistics at them.
Yeah, I really need a new job...
*sighs*
