"Let me try to put this delicately. Our son would like to ….. plow… you"

the jam went well last night. a good 3 hours of hard playing. we should
really be taking pictures at these jams. anyways, I cut
myself and bled a bit, busted 4 sticks, and busted my frickin’ DW 5000
pedal. I broke 1/4 inch thick metal just with my raw triplet playing
power. BWAHAHA!  i play really hard..and loudly..my thanks go to
Tommy Lee
for teaching me to wreck things from a young age – and my parents, who
are both hard of hearing and should never,ever read this blog.

i like my coworkers, they’re a great, fun bunch to work with. even inappropriate language lady
is tolerable, as most of the time she’s quiet and keeps to herself.
kinda like the crazy postal worker guy or hornets…you don’t bother
them and they won’t bother you.

but there’s one fellow, ugh,..we’ll call him CM. his fault list runs deep..he runs around the office
like a meth freak who’s being pursued by imaginary wolves, for one.  he’s
the cheapest guy I know, for two. a girl came around the office selling
bracelets to support the cancer association. $2. there was not a single
person in our office building (100 employees) who didn’t buy one –
except of course, for CM.

another example of his cheapness was at Mats’ going away party. all of
us were buying rounds,
or at least drinks for Mats. CM played the slots, won $300, and didn’t
buy a single drink for anyone.  not to mention that night he
passed out on a married coworker after trying to hit on her – and prior
to that he was running around with a condom he bought from the
men’s room, giggling and showing it to everyone. he’s 30.

lastly, he’s the most sickening example of an apple polisher I’ve ever
seen. he sits wide eyed on the edge of his seat whenever the boss
speaks. one day at lunch, he was talking about getting a new
vehicle..our boss said, "CM I’ll tell you what you should get"..to
which CM asked him to wait, got out a pen and paper, and  took
notes  as  the boss spoke. 

It’s all I can do to stop myself from giving him the works (the works
being a beating so severe he’ll pray for death
) when I have to interact
with him or listen to his conversations a cubicle away. My headphones
must remain on as I don’t want to go to jail..even though it would
probably be ruled a justifiable offense.

there’s always gotta be one of them in the bunch, eh? WHY?