Every goddamn household, office, or organization runs itself with the help of the daily duties of individuals. We call these duties chores. I hate chores. Fuck bedmaking, trash disposing, plant watering, and dog walking. What would you say if I told you I was never going to do any of these things again. I'm not quite sure if its the chores themselves that I hate or the assholes who take them so motherfucking seriously.
There is ALWAYS a list maker. Someone starts delegating responsibilities and there is always a pointdexter (he says) in the crowd who interrupts everything and says "Hold on, I'm gonna grab some scrap paper and write these down." (You just wanna knock them out for the nerdy way they say "scrap paper.") Then they have to tell you their "plan of attack" (Which by the way, when people say -plan of attack- in terms of office tasks and mundane administrative projects -fuck that. They aren't actually attacking anything but their own likability.) - "I'm gonna jot these down on scrap paper, then transfer them to a very big bulletin board and hang it where everyone can see."
What a joke.
I tend to completely ignore these obnoxious lists and carry on with my day in the normal, lazy, task free fashion that I've grown fond of. But it's still difficult to get some peace and quiet because the "jotter downer" will follow you around saying "But it's your day. It's your day to refill the soap dispenser. It's your day. I checked the list, it's your day."
That's when I wanna turn around, look that square square in the eye and say "No, my friend. I'm afraid it's YOUR day...(5 - 7 second pause)...to die." Then start laughing to myself. Not all evil as a real bad guy, but like a giddy school girl. Just high pitched giggles, to get him thinking that I can barely contain the excitement I have from the thought of cutting him up.
"Oh, who am I kidding, man. You're right it is my day. Here is your soap dispenser. It's full. I took care of it."
"Well thank you for obeying the list. I was just trying to make everyone's life a little easier. You'll understand one day. I actually have to use some soap right now because I just took out the trash, since it's MY DAY to do so." (Dollops some soap into his palms). AHHHHHHH. My hands, my hands are burning. You sick bastard...The skin the melting. My knuckle bones are dissolving. What the helllll have youuuu done!!!"
"Well, I filled that little guy with Hyper-hydro-cloridium-nitrate-disulfur-oxide. Highly volitile and fast acting (Cuz you always have to give at least two adjectives to describe the potion you've concocted, as a rule of thumb.) I can't kill ya, but I can sure as shit make sure you won't be making any dumb-ass lists anytime soon. Now go regenerate your skin cells, and re-learn to use your hands from scratch."
If that isn't a chore then I don't know what is.
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