Money For Nothing

Posted by on Friday 20th June 2003. 2 comments.

Hello, My name is not Sam.
Sam, I not am.
I do not like Goldfish and glazed ham.
I do not like Goldfish and glazed ham sam I not am.
I do not like it on a boat.
I do not like it when it gets caught in my throat.
No, I do not like it on a boat or in the throat, sam I not am.

The above is just a smattering of the poetic genius that rambles through my mind on the average monotinus day between the hours of 8am and 1pm, as I dwell and ponder the true meaning of life as I peer semi-psychotically into my blank computer monitor in my glass walled cage with a 5 hour time lock that some may call "my office".  
 The lovely people who wear ties and coats have decided that this job is worth a healty 9.50 and hour, for 5 hours a day, and I am just the man to do it. My exact job title, well, I'm not sure, but it probably is something like "chief assistant telephone answering and paper shredding photocopy technician specialist", and as for my supervisor, well, I've worked here about year now, and that has never been really explained to me. IU could probably do a jig, or possibly even a riverdance naked on my desk, and not get reprimanded for it.  And in case you were wondering, yes, I am at work now. Getting paid to sit here and pour my meaningless thoughts across a worldwide accessable media that has the ability to allow millions of people to connect on a superficial level that doesnt really exist, or allows a small cult colaboration to bash on one another in a more interpersonal form, that also, deosnt really exist.  As I sit here feverishly gnawing at sunflower seeds as though they were going out of fashion, I realize that I am running low. Not on motivation, or thoughts, or concerns, now, I am simply running low on sunflower seeds. Yes, I think I shall, but for a dollar, perhaps no. Shall I, or Shall'nt I? I think I shall walk to the snack machine down the row of cubes, past the smelly lady who I am convinced does less than I do; and probably collects a considerably larger paycheck, make a left at the MILF, after shhoting her a smile, sprint down the stairs, and down the drab flourescant lit hallway and finnaly there, to my own overpriced Kwik-e-mart. My savior from a starvation situation, my afghanistan supermarket, that reminds me of a joke:
WHY ARE THERE ONLY K_MARTS IN IRAQ?
BECAUSE WE GOT RID OF ALL THE TARGETS!
For those of you who probably didnt get that joke at all, K-mart is a large store that is a competetor of Target, another large warehouse type store.
Well, I have to begin my journey, for now I am out of my parrot food. The journey that I ahve prepared for is upon me, it must be done, for the sake of humanity. And all this because I am a valued, important employee, and my employment and tasks have been evolved to ensure that the city of folsom operates as smoothly as possible. Thank you Tax Payers!
-yankee

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