Apparently, I work in a daycare. Our crazy Russian lady accountant brought her sick kid to the office today. Obviously, I don't have any stinky little ones of my own. That's probably a good thing. I don't want kids - I don't like the way they smell, the sounds that they make or the stuff that comes out of them. I made that choice for myself just as the rest of you decided to have kids (or at least you decided to get drunk then the real hilarity ensued). I can respect your decision; please respect mine. Discipline your damn children. None of this bullshit time out or the countless empty threats. Give me a break, fool! I don't want to hear your little heathen whine and cry because they want a cookie. Especially at the office. I mean seriously, isn't it enough that I have to listen to Bimbo each day? That's a feat in and of itself - at this point, it's impossible for me to even count the amount of times I want to knock the holy hell out of that woman each day.
