Thanks Asshole, THANKS!

I work with a bunch of assholes...that can probably be said for just about anyone out there. If I asked you, "what do you think about the people you work with"? What would you say? They're a bunch of assholes, that's what you'd say. Well my assholes are worse than yours okay? I can go into a gazillion stories on how and why but right now we're going to focus on the thievery part of things...

So I have realized that there is someone out there STEALING from my damn work mailbox. I know that sounds totally queer because who the hell cares about mail that comes to your work mail box? Well, unfortunately I do. What comes in my mail box is very precious to me! It's lots and lots of cheesy, trashy magazines that I have decided I can't live without because I am shallow and depend on the lives of celebrities for entertainment. I am 'lucky' - if you want to use that word - to work in an industry that rewards you with free publications, mainly because we spend our money advertising in them, but who cares about that, I get free shit and that's all I'm concerned with here.

Now, the mag's that I get can be really good and really bad. For instance they run the gamut from US Weekly, Star, People, Vanity Fair, Blender, Sports Illustrated, Travel, on and on, to The New Yorker, Men's Journal, Newsweek, and some other boring things that smart people like to read. I don't really care what they are to be honest, but what I do care about is that someone seems to think that my mailbox, with magazines addressed to ME, is free reign. It's like my mailbox says library on it and everyone is free to just check out my goods - although, no one really brings anything back so bad analogy on my part, you get the point.

The first time it happened I walked by early in the day and I just didn't feel like grabbing all the junk in my m.box because I'm lazy so when I came back later I just thought, okay, maybe I really took this stuff out and now I can't find it because my desk looks like a bomb went off on it...Then I got pissed because I cleaned up a little and still couldn't find the Star magazine that was going to tell me all of the truths about Jen and Brad, and Brangalina and a new adoption in Africa and why Tom Cruise isn't crazy and how he really does know the history of psychology! The problem is there are a ton of people on my floor and a LOT of people have mailboxes in the same general area so who could I blame without sounding like the frantic chick who is more concerned with her free magazines than her actual work?

Anyway, it happened again today and now I'm ready to start bustin skulls. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY messes with my trashy magazines! Now who's gonna tell me about Ben and Jen's secret island wedding or slutty, whorebag Britney Spears walking around Malibu with her gross, white trash, pregnant belly hanging out? Who I ask? WHO???

Are people that lame that they have to steal my free magazines? Why don't they steal my bosses? He's a guy and he's oh so important, and he has brats at home so he totally doesn't have time to read trashy magazines like I do!!! And now I have been reduced to whining - brilliant! I'm going to find this person. And when I do...I am going to bitch slap then with a People magazine until the ink comes off on their face and they have to walk around with "Jessica Alba: How She Beat Her Heavy Genes " written backwards on their forehead all day.

Well, it's a good thing it's Friday because I'm ready to forget about the trainer and the fact that I can barely walk today. When I do muster up the strength to take my ass out of my chair I look like, well, umm, let's just say I look like I had a long night with a big man...It would be fun if it was true, but in actuality, it's just not an attractive look. So now it's time to go get some much needed alcohol in my system and I hope that the asshole that I work with who keeps stealing my magazines is happy, they have made me completely unproductive, well, not in the blogging sense, but in the working sense, today. Thanks asshole, thanks.