buy a trained monkey and call it ago-go...
my job is slurping out my brain through a big ol' bent up straw. but just in bits at a time, little brain chunks that fucking hurt like a bitch.
i've worked a total of 18 hours and i want to quit. the kids aren't even there yet.
i hate my job and anyone could fucking do it. i should just buy a monkey, put a dress on it, give it a date stamp, send it to work, and call it ago-go and no one would fucking notice. no one. i swear to you.
posted by ago-go @ 11:21 a.m.
8 Comments:
you would have to teach it to dance though.
Gotta say--that first paragraph is a keeper!
Hang in there, kiddo!
art, shit! teaching the monkey to dance will take at least a month of lessons....
os, see what happens when i go to work...i write total nonsense. hangin'.
steph, mexico is screaming my name. i think the monkey should be conservative, yet fashionably dressed in order to maintain the respect of students.
A retarded monkey with a spear through his head could do my job.
todd, maybe your monkey could marry my monkey.
A belly dancing monkey, whacking a date stamp?
Daaah, daaaah, dadadada, thunk!
Daaah, daaaah, dadadada, thunk!
Daaah, daaaah, dadadada, thunk!
Daaah, daaaah, dadadada, thunk!
That I gotta see.
monkey dresses, gumie bears, crazy kids, , did i step into a willy wonka type blogg, or is it just that your blogg rocks and it's always full of the cooky news.
loving the wonder women, thatw cosyumes actually kinda hot, in a 50's house wife turned super heroin kinda way.
That's very descriptive and I feel a bit sick now. I felt the same way teachin' high school. Hang in there and something wondermous will come along for you.
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