WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?

Adrienne BoettingerFriday,15 November 2013

The Snap:

Have you ever worked in an office that you were pretty sure was a diabolical, psychological experiment to see how much test subjects could tolerate before they totally lost their minds? You know, one where you allegedly had a purpose or function but at the end of the day, you had no idea what you accomplished and yet you felt exhausted, drained and as if your IQ had taken a nosedive? Thoreau said, “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation,” which translates in modern-day speak to, “most people silently loathe how they spend the bulk of their waking hours in cube farms, living for the day they can shove their letters of resignation up management’s asses.” In the past year, I’ve survived 4 different office locations and have found that each was filled with people who are alternately interesting, fun, maddening and ass-achingly annoying. In celebration of my 100th post for The Snap Download, I’ve created a “When I Grow Up” mad-lib filling the blanks in with ACTUAL WORDS AND PHRASES I’ve heard uttered ‘round the cubicle. Enjoy!

The Download:

When I was a little SOCIALIST, I dreamed of being a MIDGET DITCH-DIGGER. Friends and family said I was CONSTIPATED but I was undeterred. I plastered posters of PROSTITUTES all over my room and made DARWIN AWARD acceptance speeches for all the great CLUSTERFUCKS I had achieved. Until one day, I was studying how to POOP and realized I HUMPED no idea what I really wanted to be. But finding that having money was better than being evicted, I REGURGITATED the bullet and started to FART in a series of cubicles.

During the 666,666 weeks that have passed since I became a working adult, I have witnessed the following crimes against nature and UNMITIGATED HELL etiquette:

1. Clipping UNDERARM HAIR in plain-sight.

2. Picking one’s SCROTUM and BITCHSLAPPING the boogers on the person’s own ASS-LESS CHAPS.

3. Ass-kissing so IMPOTENTLY that it was visible from space.

4. Eating so much communal food units that none was left for fellow LOBOTOMIES.

5. PUBIC discussions with soon-to-be-ex-spouses, screaming MUTANT accusations in a spittle-flinging rage.

6. A person sticking his LADY BITS in a bowl of dip to lick it clean.

7. Vomiting COTTON CANDY into coworker’s desk drawer and pretending it never happened.

Suffice it to say, this is not representative of the PINK EYE-ISH dreams I had as a little girl. Instead I think I’d rather PROJECTILE VOMIT or CLOG DANCE or even wake up with my UVULA sewn to the carpet. What’s a working WHALE PENIS to do? Bills gotta get SYNERGIZED and my dog has grown used to a FEMINAZI lifestyle. So until I can STAB my damn book, convince enough ADULTERERS to read my writing, or become independently wealthy, I’ve just got to EMPOWER in my HOPELESS MENTAL INSTITUTION, CHOKING of the day when I can staple things to my coworker’s HEMORRHOIDS.

Take Action!

Hat Tips:

The Walden Woods Project, Image Credit: Flickr



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