effing rocket scientists...

so, there's a guy that works in our office. he is quite literally a rocket scientist. seriously. his degree is in nuclear fucking physics. what the hell? who actually majors in nuclear fucking physics but doesn't work in nuclear physics?

anyway...

he's annoying as hell. not just to me, but to pretty much everyone else in the office (except for the other annoying as hell fucktard, but that's another rant). we know to never EVER make eye contact because he will latch on and not. shut. up. and the things he talks about? yeah, no one cares. sorry, but they don't. and he thinks he is alllll that with his old, but not old enough to be cool, ford truck (seriously it's awful), his black wranglers (ick), oh and his house in merkel (population 12) next door to his parents. yep. he really does think he's awesome. sad, isn't it?

and despite my BEST efforts to be a total super bitch in his presence, in hopes he will decide he doesn't like me (you know, AFTER learning not to make eye contact or start a conversation with him, the hard way {thanks for the warning, Italiano folks}), Creepy Pale Uncle Fester With Hair Rocket Man (CPUFWHRM) seems to like me. what's worse? he seems to think i like him.

erm. nope.

you'd think he would get the hint by me not making eye contact EVER. or even when he's mid sentence and i pick up the phone to call someone. or when he's mid sentence and i get up from my desk and go to the bathroom. nope. not even when he was in the middle of some story about gawd only knows what and i walked directly behind him, turned the t.v. on (yes, we have t.v. at work), changed the channel a few dozen times and turned up the volume.

i do my best to just ignore him and not yell something like "FOR THE LOVE OF GAWD YOU CHEAP MAMA'S BOY SPACE PROGRAM REJECT, PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!"

but i want to.

especially after his comment a couple of weeks ago. especially after yesterday and today.

a couple of weeks ago, i was re-imaging computers and instead of watching t.v. i had my music going. this song was on when CPUFWHRM came in to bug me with some story about the government chopping down pecan trees because of the sap and then the government using our tax dollars to plant new baby pecan trees to replace them. yeah...i told you...no one fucking cares. anyway this song was on:

and the fucker has the nerve to say to me, in the snobbiest tone, "not exactly the eagles huh?"

oh yes he did...

and instead of turning super bitch on him (though he did get my signature "go to hell" look that could be used as a weapon of mass destruction) and saying something along the lines of "excuse me!? did you really just insult my daddy's fucking awesome band?? really? cause you obviously know NOTHING about music, or else you would know that A) my dad's band is fucking awesome and B) it wasn't the eagles that originally sang this song. it was America, you fucking fucktard." i chose to ignore him. why, or how, i'm not sure.

so, fast forward to this week. my boss informs me that i need to help CPUFWHRM and Bar Stank (I call her this because she goes out to her car, smokes with the windows up, then comes back in overwhelmingly smelling like she's been at a bar) with something they have to do for the state or something like that. basically, they are going to all the campuses, writing down room numbers and what kind of computer is in there and whether it's a teacher or student computer. simple enough, right? they then hand me their list when they get back to the office and i type it into a spreadsheet on excel. simple enough, except that it's redundant, mundane, and really fucking difficult to read CPUFWHRM's handwriting. not to mention, they could totally and completely do this for themselves and i could be tackling the 54965416 pieces of paper on my desk that have been gone through and unorganized gawd only knows how many times!

yesterday, as i was attempting to read CPUFWHRM's handwriting, i noticed that some of it was written in code or random abbreviations. some were easy to figure out, most were fucking impossible. so, i asked him what they meant, one by one, so i could write (in legible handwriting) whatever it stood for. i got to one and the conversation went something like this:

Him: "hmm."
i (and my PMS) responded: "HMM?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN HMM?"
him: "well, i don't remember what that one means"
me & pms: "well hell! how am i supposed to put this on the spreadsheet if i don't know what it is!?"
him: "well, it made sense when i wrote it"
me & most definitely pms: "look, rocket scientist, if you're going to write in code, you're gonna have to remember your own damn code! just because it makes sense to YOU doesn't mean it makes sense to the normal people"
him (thinking i'm joking): "haha yeah that would be a good idea."
me & pms: "by the way, why exactly am i the one doing this? and why can't you write your list straight down and make my life a little bit easier like the other 2 are doing?"

and he has the balls to say to me (with a smile on his face): "because i'm lazy"

WELL NO FUCKING SHIT SHERLOCK! did it take your degree in nuclear fucking physics to figure that one out?!

today my eyes hurt from squinting, trying to read his chicken scratch. my shoulders and right hand are KILLING ME from entering all the fucking spreadsheets (that i'm still not done with) and aunt flo is kicking my ass. and i need a hug. and a kiss. NOT from CPUFWHRM.

anyway, CPUFWHRM decided he needed to take on the "i'm your boss" tone (and he's totally NOT my boss. he has no authority over me what.so.eh.var.) and ask me "how is that coming along? you know i need this done before friday."

oh yes he did.

i responded with my middle finger go to hell look and said "yes, CPUFWHRM, i know you need it done by friday. if i could read YOUR handwriting, i would have been done a LONG ASS time ago. would you like to do it yourself? cause i'd be more than HAPPY to get back to the other 5496854 things i need to be doing and helping J and T with the stupid petty shit they're having to do instead of their real jobs."

and he laughed.

*sigh*

some people just never get a fucking clue, do they? it's amazing how someone smart enough to get a degree in nuclear fucking physics can be so incredibly fucking stupid...

on a lighter note...has anyone figured out what happens august 31? new poll on the right!