Dear Diary

From the private diary of Winifred Dourooski!

     Another chunk hole Saturday morning, and I'm once again down lower than a pregnant ant's belly.  I'm reaching for my Powder Keg 500 malt liquor.  I realize it's a bit early for it, but do I look like I give three s***s?  Or, more accurately, do I write like I give three s***s?  Well, I tell you diary, I literally can't stand my boss, dear old Dad-in-Law.  He makes each day it's own special nightmare.  He demands that us peons work Saturdays, Sundays and every  fricking day.  One would think he'd get in trouble from L&I, but every time they come around, he uses some type of creative book keeping, I guess, because they never say anything.  If he didn't hold my figurative nuts in a vice, I'd tell him to his face.  "I can't stand  you, you pigeon humper!"  I don't mind telling you Diary, as I know that you'll never tell.  Granted, you don't even have a mouth (eh, ha!), but you know the damage I can, and will, do in print.  I've got a figurative pen, and I'm not afraid to use it.  Well Diary, I've got several thousand more things to complain about, but I 'aint got the time.  Time to don the knee-pads and kiss the boss's a*s!

Reviews

[Marie]

Winifed and her boss deserve each other.

[Michael Stevens]

Yeah, Winifred's mad at the world; NOTHING ever goes right or is her fault, in any way!

[Colt 45 & 9/16]

Haha! Winfred even sounds pissed off at the very paper he writes on!

[Michael Stevens]

Yeah, taint nutin sacred with Winifred!