The Mob

Since I have a tremendous amount of free time at my day job, I’m constantly looking out for distractions.  It was the six hours a day twiddling my thumbs that inspired me to marathon Star Trek: The Next Generation, which I’ve been detailing ritualistically in the forums.

But that show gets on your tits after awhile and, to avoid jumping from the roof of my 12-storey building, I’ve been looking for more distractions.

First, I want to say that Commander Riker is really sexy.  And will Data ever become human?  And why is Troi not at all hot anymore?  And will the Borg waste tons of time trying on summer dresses at Kohl’s?  Jesus Christ, we were supposed to meet Sally an hour ago!  You’d think you were addicted to shopping!

On the productive side, I picked up two new jobs.  Bringing my job count to five.  I love working five jobs and still failing to meet my monthly bills!  I think that’s awesome!

Well, to be fair, one job is seasonal – and this is the off season.  Well, sort of.  Another job is publishing, which doesn’t really pay.

The two new jobs are business writing gigs which pay quarterly.  And I hate structured writing jobs like them because they steal creativity.  After you write a few thousand extremely dry words on a boring topic based on a write-by-numbers formula, all you can do is go home and remove the language center of your brain and put it in a jar of gin.

Unless you have a cool typewriter you picked up from that antique shop in Friday the 13th: The Series.  

Great American Novel here we go!  “It was a dark and stormy night –“

Oh…you need more blood?  But I just soaked the ribbon in a pool of the meter man’s gore.

I also hate being paid quarterly.  That means I’m going to spend the next few months wondering if I’m actually going to see any money.

Of course, while I may have five jobs, my overall principles insist that all of the jobs be suitable for the truly lazy.  Because I have to finish my TNG marathon!  Then move on to Voyager.  I’m skipping DS9 because the only good thing about that show was Terry Farrell.  I’m also skipping Enterprise because I couldn’t watch it the first time around.

But Voyager I remember clearly and watched all the way through.  Well, I remember Jeri Ryan.  I don’t know what else was happening.  Something about a spaceship run by a magical elf.

Right now, I can manage about four TNG episodes a day.  They gave us two screens on our work computers in what I can only assume is a free license to use the second screen for porn downloads, watching shows, and writing  “cock” over and over again for ten pages, then making it into a big font with glitter effects.

My other distraction is solitaire, which is dangerous, and Battlechess.  Remember that from Windows 3.1?  It’s really gay.  Cock cock cock.

I’ve also become hopelessly addicted to Mob Wars on Facebook which, as far as I can tell, is just an elaborate advertisement for something.  You buy up property to make money, build up a “mob,” and then arm them with guns and cars and shit like that.  Then you just build up your coffers and buy more property.  Meanwhile, all of the scary Facebook people who are also playing are attacking you randomly.  I hate playing these online computer games because all the other retards online scare the hell out of me.  I automatically assume everybody online is a pervert because, really, what else is there to do with the internet except expand on and become deeply entrenched in your personal perversions?

Anyway, come join my mob  so we can ruthlessly attack 12 year olds calling themselves “Mobster Boss Xtreem”.  Then you can watch me get angry, drive to Mobster Boss Xtreem’s house, and murder his family.  Which will be great for my demon-possessed typewriter.

“– when she walked into my office.”

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