Today I have been using the word cunt, a lot. I wish people would let me use my sub contractors who are reliable and deliver on time, rather than a certain not named organisation and their subs. The project schedule they wrote was the greatest work of fiction since one C.Dickens pondered over his pen. Three weeks overdue, three fucking weeks. Puts my cashflow up shit creek and costs me a packet in additional transport and labour, I'll get it back, in fucking November. Cunts.Oh, and when did they decide to share this information ? Three fucking days before completion. To add to my woes it looks like we've found a house. It's just around the corner from us, ticks all the boxes and means that I end up with a mortgage the size of Malawi's national debt. All of this whilst Marlboro free.
On the bright side, I may have a ticket for Wales v Australia. Please please please make it come my way.
2 comments:
Today I too have been using the word 'cunt' a lot.
Nothing to do with contractors, sub-contractors or customers (now that's what I call refreshing). Mind you, this may change because I've been given a project to scope and so far the only thing that exists are the words "Web2.0". How's that for helpful?
No, my cuntiness is, this morning, directed entirely at children - or schoolchildren to be precise. Those charming little darlings that dither on the kerbside then dash straight across the road in to the path of three lines of traffic and then have the temerity to shout 'Twat' at me because I had to slam on my brakes to avoid the little bastards and, at the same time, risk taking a juggernaut (that has been travelling at a distance of less than two feet for the last four miles) up the arse.
Cunts.
Thank you for giving me this opportunity to rant in a place that at least a dozen of my colleagues don't read.
:-)
Rant on.
I tooted some little cunt on Sunday, rather than have him replace the silver star on my bonnet, and the little sod told me to fuck off. I'd guess he was six. Delightful
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