hello childrens! i see most of you are clutching your bosoms in what appears to be shock. over a month and nary a response? let me explain, lest we land ourselves in the hospital.
since the number of cliffs and ends of the earths in the metro-boston area are few and far between, i would like to inform the lot of you that i have not fallen off of either, nor did i morph into a pool of silver gelatinous goo normally found chasing cars or travelling stealthily through drainpipes in capri sun commercials, terminator 2, or the secret world of alex mack. lastly, i haven't undergone a sex change operation and been hiding out in a cave in northern europe building a new life as stocky swede named hoyt. the truth is, being a whore to the corporate world isn't as easy or glamorous as one may think (free office supplies and carpal tunnel aside, of course).
since i finally flipped boston medical, the tattle-tailing customer service reps, and my hitleresque boss the proverbial bird exactly fifteen days ago, i've been too busy revelling in my new found freedom to even think of doing much else. that "much else" unfortunately included (but was in no way limited to) plunking my sweet ass in front of a computer and providing y'all the belly-laughs and i-know-exactly-what-you-mean-i-hate-those-tools-too snickers that you've come to know, love, and, in some cases, become obsessed with and physically dependent on. given these extenuating circumstances, i feel that there is only one thing left for me to say:
for those individuals whose daily fix for sarcasm has not been fulfilled by yours truly, whose quest for satire has been in vain: get a friggin' hobby. stamp collection and needlepoint are making a comeback! we all have to be disappointed in someone sometime..otherwise, we'd all be complete saps, naively putting faith in anyone who looks our way..like the amish. if it wasn't me, it probably would have been your own fault. feel free to thank me at your leisure (read: nownowrightnowkissmyfeetandlikeit).
as you are undoubtedly nursing your bruised egos back to health, i'll pick up where i left off before i unleashed a well-overdue tirade on your delicate psychees. like i said, boston medical is nothing but a memory. my days of txn-ing, dcom-ing, and doing countless unrepaid favors are in the past. however, as i moonwalked out the door on july 3rd with such precision that would make michael jackson green (or black or white or whatever) with envy, i knew i was leaving some of my fellow temps, a quality bunch, trapped in the clutches of corporate america and gasping for air (not to mention vacation time). do not fret, my anti-free care warriors, at least no one hates you with the fire of 87544358465 suns because your name is roger carroll. stay strong..even if it takes a bloody mary or two during your lunch hour to do so. i salute you and miss our midday office bashings to the fullest..tear!
the remainder of my summer, when i am not perfecting the fine art of slothing, will be spent slaving away behind a marble counter four days a week at a delightful little pastry shop in the north end. while things did not start out as i had envisioned they would (the "BELLISIMA!" sketch on snl), i was more than willing to weather the constant storm of long, short, tall, iced, light, dark, frothed, and steamed specifics regarding caffeinated goodness, no matter how long it took. i would rather scald myself with lattes for hours on end if it meant never returning to a monotonous desk job from hades. it took about a week, and now instead of having espressos hastily shoved back at me in disgust, i get winks and veeeeeery generous tips from the old italian regulars..and we know how that can get a gal all hot and bothered. oh myMY.
..keepin' it real whilst raking in the pesos,
lex
since the number of cliffs and ends of the earths in the metro-boston area are few and far between, i would like to inform the lot of you that i have not fallen off of either, nor did i morph into a pool of silver gelatinous goo normally found chasing cars or travelling stealthily through drainpipes in capri sun commercials, terminator 2, or the secret world of alex mack. lastly, i haven't undergone a sex change operation and been hiding out in a cave in northern europe building a new life as stocky swede named hoyt. the truth is, being a whore to the corporate world isn't as easy or glamorous as one may think (free office supplies and carpal tunnel aside, of course).
since i finally flipped boston medical, the tattle-tailing customer service reps, and my hitleresque boss the proverbial bird exactly fifteen days ago, i've been too busy revelling in my new found freedom to even think of doing much else. that "much else" unfortunately included (but was in no way limited to) plunking my sweet ass in front of a computer and providing y'all the belly-laughs and i-know-exactly-what-you-mean-i-hate-those-tools-too snickers that you've come to know, love, and, in some cases, become obsessed with and physically dependent on. given these extenuating circumstances, i feel that there is only one thing left for me to say:
for those individuals whose daily fix for sarcasm has not been fulfilled by yours truly, whose quest for satire has been in vain: get a friggin' hobby. stamp collection and needlepoint are making a comeback! we all have to be disappointed in someone sometime..otherwise, we'd all be complete saps, naively putting faith in anyone who looks our way..like the amish. if it wasn't me, it probably would have been your own fault. feel free to thank me at your leisure (read: nownowrightnowkissmyfeetandlikeit).
as you are undoubtedly nursing your bruised egos back to health, i'll pick up where i left off before i unleashed a well-overdue tirade on your delicate psychees. like i said, boston medical is nothing but a memory. my days of txn-ing, dcom-ing, and doing countless unrepaid favors are in the past. however, as i moonwalked out the door on july 3rd with such precision that would make michael jackson green (or black or white or whatever) with envy, i knew i was leaving some of my fellow temps, a quality bunch, trapped in the clutches of corporate america and gasping for air (not to mention vacation time). do not fret, my anti-free care warriors, at least no one hates you with the fire of 87544358465 suns because your name is roger carroll. stay strong..even if it takes a bloody mary or two during your lunch hour to do so. i salute you and miss our midday office bashings to the fullest..tear!
the remainder of my summer, when i am not perfecting the fine art of slothing, will be spent slaving away behind a marble counter four days a week at a delightful little pastry shop in the north end. while things did not start out as i had envisioned they would (the "BELLISIMA!" sketch on snl), i was more than willing to weather the constant storm of long, short, tall, iced, light, dark, frothed, and steamed specifics regarding caffeinated goodness, no matter how long it took. i would rather scald myself with lattes for hours on end if it meant never returning to a monotonous desk job from hades. it took about a week, and now instead of having espressos hastily shoved back at me in disgust, i get winks and veeeeeery generous tips from the old italian regulars..and we know how that can get a gal all hot and bothered. oh myMY.
..keepin' it real whilst raking in the pesos,
lex