But I don't give up,
no, I don't ever give up
It's all I got,
it's my claim to fame
First of all the Sopranos last night was….AWESOME!!! Next Sunday cannot come fast enough.
I know this is like the 12th entry with Fuckface but this blog is for my own therapy and I need to vent. With that being said, I am officially putting Fuckface in the illustrious category of “most frustrating people I’ve ever had to deal with”. He used to be in the “top five crap list” category but he’s now joined the list that only my mom has been on for at least 15 years.
Congrats Fuckface, I don’t know how you did it but well done. You have managed to make my blood boil, dampen my mood by simply thinking about you, and giving me that ugly scowl whenever I see your name on my phone.
It was last week when I received the phone call from him.
FuckFace: I told you that we need to do things “this” way.
Boof: Soandso told me this way and there’s no way I’m going to spend that money and fall for this typical trap. Not to mention I don’t remember you ever telling me this.
FF really angry: I told you last year. Look at your emails and find the one where I told you this.
Boof: Look, I’m sorry. I’ll look for the email and I’ll do it the way we talked about.
FF: yeah, okay----hangs up---
It was a test. It was way too easy to become furious and throw my phone around so I held it in. I held it in because perhaps I’m wrong and I simply missed that email. I’m man enough to admit my mistakes unlike other people. So I checked.
I looked at every email he sent me last year. Every painful, frustrating, idiotic, nonsensical email he sent me. With each note I felt the little white flame from inside growing bigger and my eyebrows started twitching. I was reliving last year and nowhere was this email. I finished all 50 emails and I was about ready to start beating the shit out of my car.
Things were going so well too. I mean there was a long period of time where we would actually get along…and joke around. We would say “have a good night” and greet each other with a smile! Hell, if I was to see Fuckface in a restaurant with his family I might even go over to his table to say hi,
Boof walks up to Fuckface’s table with his family: Hey Fuckface hows it goin? I just wanted to stop over and say hi and wish you a goodnight. The pork chops here are awesome by the way.
Fuckface: yeah….have a…good night
Son: Dad, did he just call you ‘Fuckface’?
FF: I….don’t know. I thought I heard that too.
So I sent him an email that says that I really want to get on the same page and that we had a breakdown in communication somewhere.
On the inside I was like: If I ever see you at a bar, you better hope I’m not drunk for I will level you.
I have had dreams of this guy transferring to another job or even getting promoted so he moves to Knoxville or something. I don’t want the guy to lose his job because that’s terrible karma and he’s got a family to feed. I also really don’t want to harm the guy too much. I mean I just hope he has a huge canker sore and bites into a ketchup filled hot dog or maybe have a zit on his hip so when his pants tighten up he can have that piercing feeling of having a zit right there.
If Fuckface got transferred I would probably jump up and pump my fists and celebrate as if I won the Stanley Cup. In fact if he got transferred I would construct a Stanley Cup--I would buy tin foil and find some fat cylinder cardboard boxes and sit in my garage and make a Stanley Cup. I would then engrave the cup with as follows,
1991 ATLANTA BRAVES
2002 DENNIS GREEN
I would then carry that Stanley Cup around and celebrate for a full 24 hours. MARK MY WORDS!!!!
Well since there’s no sense in putting anything else on the crap list I’ll just leave it at that.