Here. Allow me to "rap" at you.

Alright, listen up, nubshats. I'd like to say I'm only going to explain this the once, but we all know that it ain't going to happen. None-the-fucking-less, there are just a few little things I'd just like to clear up for the general audience.

One: when the fuck was the last time where "No" wasn't an absolute? And I'm not talking about the weak as piss mumbling your mother utters as you're climbing on top of her after shovelling an armful of methadone into her. Have I missed some crazy-person memo where "No" now means "Maybe"? Or "Soon"? I don't care how much "customer service" bullshit gets bandied about, when I say "No", it's not a fucking invitation to debate. I don't say what I say for a laugh. If I did, a lot of it would be along the lines of "You really want to know how little I care?" and accompanied with a lot of laughter. It generally means that I'm providing an answer to a query or request, generally in a negative matter. No amount of bargaining, cajoling or shouting is going to get me to change my mind/policy/situation/laws of physics. Learn to fucking deal with it.

Two: I don't know about others, but I go to work to work. I don't like it, but I do it. I've come to accept the fact that I show up to a place I don't want to be at, to perform tasks I'd rather not do, in order to receive the money I can use to do the things that I'd rather be doing, in the time I'm at some place I'd rather be. That's just how the world works. Sure, I may have once believed that one day I might end up in a job doing what I loved; then I turned eight, and discovered Dungeons and Dragons. Then I turned eleven, and discovered breasts. But that's beside the point. The point is, however, is that there is no obligation or implied responsibility that owes you a profession of copious funds and limitless enjoyment. On the other hand, I've no commitment to enjoy the role I've found myself in. Which, I guess, is a very round-about way of saying: I'm sick and fucking tired of "team building" and "moral improving" bullshit! I'm here to work. I don't particularly want to be here, I don't particularly want to be friends with any of you. I don't need to participate in a survey that cost the department thousands of dollars to run to find out that most people here "arn't engaged". I could've fucking told you that beforehand, and that money could've been spent instead fucking engaging people. I also don't want to spend my personal time, or even fucking time I'm being penalised for, sitting and working out grade-school puzzle-book mazes for chocolate prizes. Fuck your "team building". There's this area, this zone, which is known as "The Mood". But "The Mood" is not around here. In fact, it's quite far, far away. And you know what? "The Mood" isn't a very big area, either. In fact, you might even say, I am not currently, nor will I ever be, in "The Mood".

And finally: I am your coworker, your superior, even your god. I am not, however, your friend. Fuck, I'm not even your associate, your colleague, your peer. If you manage to interact with me without pissing me off or making my life harder, I'll treat you with respect. But continually calling my line because you don't know how to do your job and want me to do it for you is going to fuck me right off. I know that we've been "asked" to help when asked, but the day I find someone to do my work for me is the day I entertain the notion of easing the ineptitude of something which happened 'cause a pizza delivery boy forgot to pull out fast enough. And if you decide to get petulant because I have the audacity to tell you how to do your fucking job in a condescending manner, well, that just means that the next time you annoy me with your added fucking trouble, then I am going to start making up answers. To amuse myself. Have fun with that, shitkick.

I guess, what I'm really trying to say, in the end, is that: I'm bored, angry, and arrogant. But fuck fuck it makes for some interesting times.