Word Up, Sister!

Okay, here’s the deal… I promised myself that I wouldn’t become some over-indignant non-smoker jackass while trying to quit this garbage inhaling habit of mine, but promises are meant to be broken or at least bent.  I am really starting to hate you smokin’ smokers!  Not because you smoke, I am not that shallow.  The problem is that as I am conveying to you that I have just quit smoking, and am expressing how draining the process has been… You reach for your pack and light up while I am talking.  It makes me wish I had a tire iron with me at all times, so that I may curb my cravings by beating you bloody in front of your children!  But the hatred doesn’t stop there folks.  I tell you that I have put down the smokes for good and you people reply with cynical bastard commentary.  “Yeah, right.”  “Come back next week and see if you’re still ‘smoke free’.” Or worse yet. “Want a cigarette?”   NO!  Wrong answer!  You losers can’t just be supportive?  You are so insecure in your willpower that anyone who takes a step in the right direction is instantly a threat to you?  That does not compute!  What happened to common decency?

When a prisoner breaks out of jail, beats the system and gets off Scott free, the jailbirds left behind will cheer for the lucky bastard.  Know why?  Because it means that there is hope for them, too.  Well, I am breaking out of jail, I am beating the system, and all you bitches can do is alert the night watchman?  You’re sick!  Each and every one of you!

I am not telling you people to quit or to not quit smoking.  It is none of my business, and me telling you what to do won’t make it easier for you to quit.  Quitting is hard to do and you have to be absolutely dedicated in order for it to work.  What I am doing is insisting that you have a better attitude when faced by a recent quitter?  They are having a craving every 27.5 minutes (or at least I am) and are faced with temptation for 90% of the day and have stepped back and said “No, thanks.” Every time!  Have some respect for that and stop trying to fuck up their track record by slinging doubt and smoke in their faces.    Because if they can dodge the slings and arrows of the tobacco companies, that means that there is hope for you, too. 

So give a quitter a pat on the back and some friendly words of encouragement, or I will chase you down with my tire iron!

Dear Mr. Employer,

It is my belief that after the amount of time I have spent with this company, I deserve a substantial increase in benefits. I have committed at least 40 hours per week of my ever shortening life to making money for you instead of writing my novel. I have brought you coffee every morning (only occasionally spitting in it or using rotten milk as creamer), even though I am certain that your own damn legs work just fine for the process of getting it yourself. I have catered to your ego by not correcting you when you think you are “hot shit”. Even though, frankly speaking, years of business meetings and reports that have forced you to sit at your desk and do nothing have molded you into the sexual equivalent of a corpse.

I have never set the building on fire, or committed bodily harm to any other employees, regardless of many tantalizing opportunities. I have never stolen from the company anything of substantial importance or value. I have never been rude to a customer that wasn’t rude to me first. I have been a model employee.

My commitment to this company must be readily apparent to you, especially considering that I haven’t been working to save the world during business hours. If I weren’t here at my desk every damn day, I could be rescuing our nation away from the spindly fingers of our republican super villains. I could go to pro-choice rallies; I could march for women’s rights. I could have been working for gay rights, and for racial acceptance for all. I could be lovingly spoon feeding the starving people of our country. I could provide advice for young unintended mothers. I could be chipping at the walls of poverty with a jack hammer. I could pierce my nose and die my hair a sharp green color. I could be free. So you must see how dedicated I am to the job, or at least to the steady paycheck, otherwise I would be out in the world living my life, and creating change where I feel it is needed.

So, here is my proposal Mr. DeMan. I want your full and total commitment to the evolution of our country.

• Since I have ascertained that your actual presence in this office is entirely expendable, for every “long weekend” that I spend making you money, you are going to spend a “long weekend” marching on Washington and petitioning for Gay and Women’s rights.
• For every dime you pay me, you will devote an equal amount to finding a cure for AIDS. And every dime that I make for you and the money grubbing bastards on the board, you will donate half of that to the NOW organization.
• I want to see you marching in the Gay Pride Parade, holding a sign that says “I kiss boys”. Whether or not you are gay is of no importance, but your show of support is.
• In order to park in the company lot your car must bear a clearly visible sticker that reads “I’m a feminist, and I vote.”
• And I get to dye my hair any color I please. Simply because our appearance should only be an identifying characteristic and not gage for status.

If you have any disagreement in regards to the opinions or comments stated in the above text, my office is the fourth one down the hall on the left, and I will have my blowtorch close at hand. Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,

The Feminist Drone
That answers the phone
And prays for your evolution.

P.S. You’re wife is hot!