A Monday Best Forgotten

It’s a curious feeling to see a personals ad by the woman you were just fucking a couple weeks ago. Ah well, more power to her. I myself am trying to find a new fraulein so it’s all good. I should probably download the pictures that she put up of herself for my digital keepsakes album, ie – the My Pictures folder on my PC, as I don’t actually have any that contain her visage. For my part, I got a response from a womyn to one ad thingy. We had to trade a few questions and answers before I was allowed to see the goods. I took this to be a bad omen and my intuition was right. While probably a sweet and caring individual, I just didn’t find her attractive. None of these profile matching schemes is worth a fuck because they don’t take into account a woman’s looks. Shit, I don’t need an algorithm to tell me how well I’d get along with a woman – I can figure that out myself. What I need to know is what she looks like because I’m hornier than a two-peckered billy goat in a fucking bee. She could love listening to progressive rock as much as I do but, if I’ve gotta move 14 love handles to get to the honeypot, well, that ain’t gonna cut it.

Now that I work at the state, I’ll never find a young, nubile gal at my place of employment. Though there are some good-looking “older” women. In fact, the one who sits next to me is a hottie. She’s quite sylphlike but I’d still fuck her like a broken screen door in a hurricane. But I’m pretty sure she’s hitched.

My new job is classic. Fix shit that I know next to nothing about with no resources at hand. I found a manual and followed the procedure it listed only to get an angry email from some woman in another department. Windows and Office issues I can handle but how the fuck am I supposed to fix these proprietary applications if there are no resources? I can’t even get them installed on my PC to zip into a test environment or anything. While I have local admin rights, I don’t have rights to whack out to anyone else’s PC nor to most servers. At least I’ll get a phone # of my own come Thursday. Maybe. A manager told us today that the whole deal hadn’t yet been OK’d by those on high so our positions could be scrapped and we sent packing tomorrow.

On my way home, my car’s transmission took a dumper so I’ve gotta spend tomorrow getting it towed to someplace which will probably inform me that they can’t even look at it for a month.

Oh glorious Monday!