Linda Blair is alive and well

Once upon a time (hehe just kidding) no but really this is actually an incident that happened about a week ago, but since I only started by BLOG about 3 days ago, and I really really want to bitch about this….here goes. Alright there’s this co-worker, let’s just say I’m senior to this co-worker. Apparently there’s been a long-standing rivalry between the day and night shifts that I wasn’t given a debrief on when I first entered in upon the scene, and since we’ve already established that I just don’t give a shit, I rarely ventured out of my hole in another staff section to pay attention. I mean it’s not like I really expected to be put in this job, in fact I told my bosses boss (another LTC…I seem to have a way with them) that I would (and I quote) “Rather shave my head bald and drag my face across the pavement (hmmm which coincidentally I guess I did….see my running mishap in the previous blog entitled A New Perspective) than work in the S3.” What I really wanted to say was I’d rather slit my wrists than work in that shop but I was afraid all that would get me was some pimply faced little body guard to escort my suicidal ass everywhere, it’s a coin toss when they take this shit seriously and I’m way past the point of murphy’s law…I got my own laws. I apparently didn’t get my message across so off to the S3 I go. Ok so it seems day shift hates night shift and night shift hates day shift. Day shift thinks they do all the work and night shift thinks…well we just don’t give a shit. As for me, well they all get on my F-ing nerves. So I get almost nightly nasty grams on the latest mortal font discrepancy, floor to sweep or as of time on a document we failed to change. On one hand I want to tell the guys at night to quit whining and sweep the damn floor, I don’t care if day shift took a big fat crap on it. Pick up the turds and drive on. To day shift I often dream of stapling those mortal documents to their foreheads, but military courtesy allows me to but suffer in silence wishing on them nasty paper cuts and server crashes instead. Ok so its not that bad but they do have a way of getting on your last nerve…last week case and point. Apparently we on night shift have a variety of problems to include taking out the trash. What I’ve come to realize is the problem is we don’t take out THEIR trash. There are only 3 of us on night shift. Say we each consume 3 beverages and 2 plates of food each per night. That’s 9 soda cans and 9 plates in a 35-gallon garbage can. Yet somehow each morning the can is mysteriously full. Now because after 1 year in the desert we have all regressed to about 3rd grade I finally gave into my impulse (no, not the stapling one…sigh). I approached this co-worker to see about getting this issue resolved. Really I just wanted to get across the point of if your gonna criticize others you better make sure your shit is straight. Well if I had known that I was going to be the lucky recipient of the encore to Linda Blaire’s exorcist role I would have brought popcorn and a box of raisenette’s. He flipped. Linda ain’t got nothing on this man except maybe the head spin, but then again he did his own interpretation of a 7 year old girl when he got in my face and yelled “Piss, piss, piss, piss, piss, piss, piss!” This was in response to me telling him that despite his convenient interpretation of the English language Piss would have gotten me a paddling from my mother just the same as the “F” word so piss WAS profanity and if he didn’t like me using the “F” word then….and so on. I mean shit he might as well have stuck out his tongue and went “Nya Nya nah Boo Boo”. There was also a point at which he yelled out “The devil is a liar, you are a liar!” Ok WTF is that supposed to mean? Basically the result was I went home with a headache and the image of a 6 foot 200 pound 37 year old man screaming piss piss piss piss piss piss piss. These are the moments that make life worth living for.