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5:05 p.m. - 2002-05-22
Operation boss begone. Status: success.
I quit.

Oh fuck yes I did. I quit like a goddamn crybaby who got hit right in the snoot with the dodge ball. (Hey, that shit smarts motherfucker!)

Boss didnít care for it too much, as expected, but young heckafresh sure as hell did.

It looks like I will be delighting everyone with tales from the fancy rich people restaurant again soon too. They were overjoyed to see me and wanted me back due to the fact that I am the only one who can sock my lilí sis Kaffer, aka Blueberry, and not get sued.

My momís birthday ended up being quite pleasant, though having everyone compliment her by saying that they thought she was my girlfriend instead of my moms got to be a bit disturbing.

I had not one but two run ins with homeless folks on the way to catch my train home too. Just like the old days. Man I love that shit. I really do, those motherfuckers are my people. I may spout and whine about working being for saps, but they donít just talk about it, they be about it, naímean?

Anyway, one said an Islamic prayer for me since I gave him two bucks for a salad. Why would a fool who was dead set on quitting his job the next day give a homeless guy two bucks for salad? Good question, but the prayer did me good to be honest. Not because of that Allah shit either, but it was probably the first time I got pulled out of my head and actually connected with a flesh and blood human in a few days.

I am so glad to not be going back to that job. My days are free all summer, and my nights will be filled with drunk, rich tourists and homeless vegetarians.

The Administrative assistant almost cried when I left. I think I may have just started a chain reaction; one of the carpenters was talking defection too.

Shit disturbing and summer vacation. Fuck yes.


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