Friday, August the 41st.

i now feel compeled to expand on my irritation of last night. WORK FUCKING SUCKED! i don't feel like going into extreme details, but the other disher didn't show up, so i got to do 2 people's work on the busiest day of the week. i bruised the bone by my right ankle. no one noticed i was working alone until 2 hours after the other disher should've been there. the first person to notice was the 3rd person in charge (after the owner and the manager) and he said "oh." then he proceeded to speak to one of the supervisors about going to play a golf arcade game. needless to say, i was fucking pissed. the only reason i didn't walkout or quit was so i would have bragging/complaining rights afterwards. yes, i can admit i ONLY stayed for the story. now i am typing it up and eating tacos. my fucking ankle hurts quite a bit. taco john's has a silly background story. i read it while waiting for my food. oh ya, i thought of this last night in my car:
tonight, on this glorious night, of Thursday, August the 40th, it got cold.