See if I was leaving on my own instead of getting laid off because they lost clients, I might feel guilty. But I'm kind of like that too, might as well earn the severance package.
One of the biggest downsides to living in a big apartment complex with lots of neighbors and walls of windows instead of AC is that I can smell every god damned thing my neighbors cook. Oh, Mr X is brewing coffee? GUESS WHO ELSE IS NOW. It's the worst because there are Indians around here somewhere and their curry always wafts up to my living room. Sometimes it is a good smell and sometimes it smells like Indian food crossed with body odor.
I wouldn't even do it out of guilt, purely for self interest. The company laid you off but that doesn't mean you and someone else you work with/for will end up crossing paths down the line. It's a long shot that it'll help you out down the road, but showing up and doing your job for two more weeks just seems like a really small buy in for what could be more opportunities down the road.
So... It turns out that a person from a very popular reality show that airs on one of the educational networks (I mention that so you don't assume this is someone from an MTV or VH1 show) is pestering my niece. Real damn close to stalking. She went out with the dude a couple of times and now he won't leave her alone. Oh, how I would love to step in and fix this, but she's 23 and needs to run her own life now. A man just can't have any damn fun anymore, scaring the fuck out of this dude would of made this whole trip to Vegas.
In the spirit of the WDT, I am having a LunchBourbon™ Damn near at the bottom of this bottle of Maker's Mark, too. Guess it's time to try something new.
Well, by "new" I really meant "new bourbon" - by going to the liquor store. What do you take me for, some kind of fruit who doesn't keep whiskey in the house at all times?
Has anyone watched Electric City? The show that Yahoo is pimping relentlessly? Is it worth wasting a few hours? And who can fucking believe the police caught Fred Willard punching the clown in a porn theater?
Porn theaters are just huge fucking traps. Who goes to one of those things for pg rated reasons? You go there because you wanna see some tittays, not because you care about the passionate love story between Candy and Mr Shaft. Not that I'd know or anything...
Clearly you've never had a naked woman cooing at you in a language you don't understand while she fondles your pants. worth every penny. That's how it works, right?
Is that like having a woman folding your underwear while she glares furiously at you and mutters obscenities under her breath about why I can't fold my own Goddamn boxer shorts?
When their main programming consist solely of video taping retarded hicks doing canned retarded shit, I don't consider them educational anymore.