best of craigslist > toronto > To the annoying skag at my work
Originally Posted: 2006-12-06 2:04pm

To the annoying skag at my work

Do you ever work?

Because it seems like you are always just flitting around, pausing at the desks of your "pals" (all men) to stop and sigh and huff, and talk about your favourite subject... your own boring, self-centered self. I'm lucky that one of these pals sits directly beside me (me, who you have never bothered to speak to) so I am forced to endure your retarded diatribes day after day. It's not like the job doesn't suck enough already. I definitely love having little "you moments" to listen to. My only saving grace is the guy who sits on the other side of me, who hates your ass as much as I do.

It's not only that you look like a complete moron. Your little pigtails are so sweet and special. They really give you that "alterna-chick" look you're going for. And yes, we noticed that you just dyed your hair again last night; and not just because you've pointed it out, loudly, to everyone in the place repeatedly this morning. It's because we see your sloop-postured ass walking around the room all fucking day, while somehow the rest of us are actually WORKING. I love your little hoodies and sneakers, you really are so different from the rest of us. Too bad the makeup you wear doesn't cover your old acne scars and your face is taking on a nice little wreath of beer blubber from the endless nights of drinking that you inform everyone of, all the time, all the day, all the constant unending hours of listening to your shit while you drape yourself over the guy sitting next to me.

"What am I? 15 and goth again?" Ooooh, nice use of the word "again", slyly bringing our attention to the fact that when you were 15, you were trying out "cool styles" and were different, even then! You may not be 15 and "goth again", but you're still the same vapid skank you were back then, I'll wager; desperate for attention and full of fascinating stories about your lack of sex life, punctuated by self-pitying sighs. Oh, and be sure to keep reminding us how "bored" you are, because personally, this job is so satisfying and fun. I'm having a great time here, and you're sooo hungover and bored! How gripping and different from the rest you are!

Oh, and make sure we all know you have a tongue ring. Again and again.

I remember when I first got hired here and I saw you. I thought maybe you'd be a nice person. That was until I realized that you want to be surrounded by guys who all think you're "cute and quirky and soooo different from the rest!" You are a nasty bitch who talks more about herself than anyone I have ever encountered. Did you notice that every single sentence you say begins with the word "I"??? It's becoming absurd. I can't take it. And could you ignore me any more deliberately? Ooooh, you "dislike me" for some reason. I don't know what that reason is, aside from maybe the fact that I also have a vagina. Honestly, I don't care. I was indifferent to you, until you started pointing out that you're a "tomboy" and any other cute words you choose to describe yourself. You're a tomboy, huh? That's so interesting. You must be such a fun girl, oooh, what a little tomboy you are! You are so fucking annoying.

You were talking the other day about how you've decided to put together a collection of songs to make a "soundtrack for your life". I have some suggestions; are there any songs called "Annoying fucking bitch" or "Stupid idiot ass hat"? WHo the fuck makes up a soundtrack to their life, and then walks around work telling everyone about it? I'm so happy the Foo Fighters represent your loss of virginity. I came into work this morning hoping for just such a tidbit about your fucking personal life. Did it ever occur to you that the thought of you naked (and no doubt still blathering about yourself) would make people actually want to vomit? Of course, the only time you have ever had sex was probably that glorious night; I can't imagine any guy wanting to hang out with your sick ass any longer than the 2 seconds it would take to deflower you. Hey, maybe you actually shut up for that 2 seconds and that's how it happened.

Please, please cut it out. Go away. Go do some WORK. Stop drinking so much, I'm sick of hearing about your nights out, and then the intensity of your hangovers. It's lame. You're lame. You're retarded.

Good for you, you drink. You dye your hair. Yes, you have a tongue ring. I know. You're so very different from the rest of us, your trials in life so much more difficult, your personality so unique, your interests so unusual. Fuck off please. Go drink at Velvet Underground or whatever alternative club you feel most "at home" in. JUST FUCK OFF.

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