Vodka & Pepsi

I really wish that's what I had in my Pepsi bottle but I don't. All I have in there is Pepsi. Pepsi and my own distilled rage. Turns out that I hate my new boss (let's call him 'The Mumbler') and I want him dead. I'm kind of hoping that I can hate him to death, but I have a back up plan in case that doesn't work out.

I'd like to encourage all our readers to send in any spare parts from your dooms-day devices, world destroying lasers or spare chemical-warfare toxins to me so that I can try and cobble together some kind of contraption that would end this soul-crushing agony. Seriously, I'd be forever in your debt.

This morning I came in feeling optimistic, after a great weekend, I thought today would be good. Of course I was deluding myself. I can't even get a simple "Good Morning" out of The Mumbler before he starts pissing me off. I'm starting to no longer care which one of us dies as long as it stops the pain.