Just a heads-up: you can expect more spelling and grammatical errors in my posts in the near future.
"Why is that, my dear Timmy? Have you discovered a new huff-worthy household cleaning product? Has the Blogs Get Slaughtered secretary quit?"
Actually, it's because I'm having to write new posts in under three or four minutes because there's this new Asian kid here at work who loves to (literally) look over my shoulder at least every other second. Ever tried writing an essay on how bad Asian people smell with a nerdy, 19-year-old Chinaman resting his chin on your shoulder? He's gone to the bathroom or to eat or whatever right now, and I'm typing as fast as I can.
The story: I had to pick the kid up from the airport a few weeks ago, and I couldn't remember his name to write it on a piece of paper whenever I went to pick him up. I did recall that it was an Asian name, and the people in my line of work usually are pretty nerdy, so I started scanning the crowd of people at the luggage pick-up for someone who was Chinese and looked like the type of guy who'd never seen a real live pair of boobies. I spotted him in less than 2 seconds.
"Hey, are you the [name of employer] pick-up?"
"Yeah, how'd you know what I looked like?"
[silence]
So then we hop on into my pick-'em-up truck, and I can tell that the kid is kind of socially awkward, so I try and make some small-talk to put him at ease . He then asks me how far of a walk it is from Fort Worth to Dallas (!), and I tell him that he'd be better off just renting a car if he wants to visit Dallas, 'cause it's kind of a long walk ("kind of" = 35 miles). He informs me (with some embarrassment) that he doesn't have a driver's license, and that he really enjoys walking, so it wouldn't be a big deal. I ignore his retardedness, and tell him that there aren't too many restaurants within walking-distance of [place of employment], and that he might consider buying a bicycle. He then informs me that he can't ride a bike, and that he really doesn't mind walking long distances.
[long, awkward silence]
"[blurting] I've lost 47 pounds in the last year! [end blurting] I just started walking everywhere, and now I've lost 47 pounds."
What the fuck is this kid's deal with walking?
So we finally arrive near [place of employment] and we start making the 1/4 mile trek to the office of his contact. Less than 100 yards later, he starts panting hard. Another 50 yards later, he stops (obviously embarrassed) and asks me to stop so he can rest a second.
You've gotta fucking be kidding me. This 140 lbs. kid who didn't think it would be a big deal to walk from Fort Worth to Dallas, can't even walk a city block without getting winded.
My question: if he can't drive a car, ride a bike, or walk a city block without gasping like an 80-year-old chain-smoker, how the hell does this kid plan on making it through life?
Later that day, I found out that he was going to be sharing an office with me. I didn't really mind this until I found out that this kid is one loc'd out Asian.
He's a whisperer.
He whispers creepy shit to himself non-stop. Shit like "How am I going to survive? I have to survive! There's no way out...", "Why am I so stupid? I'm so fucking stupid!", "I have to go to the bathroom. I have to go to the bathroom. I have to go to the bathroom...", and (my personal favorite) "My head is going to explode! The pressure is too much...too much...too much."
Creepy.fucking.shit.
Anyway, he must've really had to go to the bathroom pretty bad, 'cause he's not back yet. That, or his head finally exploded and he's not coming back.
"Why is that, my dear Timmy? Have you discovered a new huff-worthy household cleaning product? Has the Blogs Get Slaughtered secretary quit?"
Actually, it's because I'm having to write new posts in under three or four minutes because there's this new Asian kid here at work who loves to (literally) look over my shoulder at least every other second. Ever tried writing an essay on how bad Asian people smell with a nerdy, 19-year-old Chinaman resting his chin on your shoulder? He's gone to the bathroom or to eat or whatever right now, and I'm typing as fast as I can.
The story: I had to pick the kid up from the airport a few weeks ago, and I couldn't remember his name to write it on a piece of paper whenever I went to pick him up. I did recall that it was an Asian name, and the people in my line of work usually are pretty nerdy, so I started scanning the crowd of people at the luggage pick-up for someone who was Chinese and looked like the type of guy who'd never seen a real live pair of boobies. I spotted him in less than 2 seconds.
"Hey, are you the [name of employer] pick-up?"
"Yeah, how'd you know what I looked like?"
[silence]
So then we hop on into my pick-'em-up truck, and I can tell that the kid is kind of socially awkward, so I try and make some small-talk to put him at ease . He then asks me how far of a walk it is from Fort Worth to Dallas (!), and I tell him that he'd be better off just renting a car if he wants to visit Dallas, 'cause it's kind of a long walk ("kind of" = 35 miles). He informs me (with some embarrassment) that he doesn't have a driver's license, and that he really enjoys walking, so it wouldn't be a big deal. I ignore his retardedness, and tell him that there aren't too many restaurants within walking-distance of [place of employment], and that he might consider buying a bicycle. He then informs me that he can't ride a bike, and that he really doesn't mind walking long distances.
[long, awkward silence]
"[blurting] I've lost 47 pounds in the last year! [end blurting] I just started walking everywhere, and now I've lost 47 pounds."
What the fuck is this kid's deal with walking?
So we finally arrive near [place of employment] and we start making the 1/4 mile trek to the office of his contact. Less than 100 yards later, he starts panting hard. Another 50 yards later, he stops (obviously embarrassed) and asks me to stop so he can rest a second.
You've gotta fucking be kidding me. This 140 lbs. kid who didn't think it would be a big deal to walk from Fort Worth to Dallas, can't even walk a city block without getting winded.
My question: if he can't drive a car, ride a bike, or walk a city block without gasping like an 80-year-old chain-smoker, how the hell does this kid plan on making it through life?
Later that day, I found out that he was going to be sharing an office with me. I didn't really mind this until I found out that this kid is one loc'd out Asian.
He's a whisperer.
He whispers creepy shit to himself non-stop. Shit like "How am I going to survive? I have to survive! There's no way out...", "Why am I so stupid? I'm so fucking stupid!", "I have to go to the bathroom. I have to go to the bathroom. I have to go to the bathroom...", and (my personal favorite) "My head is going to explode! The pressure is too much...too much...too much."
Creepy.fucking.shit.
Anyway, he must've really had to go to the bathroom pretty bad, 'cause he's not back yet. That, or his head finally exploded and he's not coming back.
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