Bomb Track

So I had a woman I don’t know and will never speak to again in my life treat as though a human speck of dirt. A useless fleck of human excrement, solely existing to suck up some of her oxygen. Well ya know what cunt? The CO2 that I exhale allows your fucking trees and garden to bloom. Maybe I’ll start to hold my breath and you’ll lose the pretty colors. Fuck that I’d rather sit here and piss you off. Coming through every 5 minutes to ask me how long my job is going to take won’t speed up the process. It’s going to be 5 minutes less than the last time you asked. Can’t you see the progress ahead of you?
That’s one of the things I do enjoy with my job. The visual progress I can see daily. Did the wall go up? Is the floor done? How do you measure success if you take papers from the right side of your desk and move them to the left? I moved papers 5 times! Great, now go make coffee cuz someone much more important than you is gracing us with his presence. And go wash your lips cuz he shits tulips and pisses Hawaiian Punch.
So where does that leave us at the end of the day? You prolly own a condo worth half a millie. You go out to the newest trendiest spots in the luxury high rises. You drop buckets of money at the hot new store with nice shines. I love that you hate me for existing in this space of yours. Cuz I’m the one who made sure the finishes in your apartment. The perfect, pristine countertop that Mother Teresa would fuck Ron Jeremy on. The kitchen that the hot new chef has decided to call home. I did all that shit. I know what my antagonists will say. Well technically homey you didn’t do shit. Fine, but I put that shit all together. I oversaw it and was the last line of defense between the guy who did and the owner. We’ll be gone in a matter of months, but that Mother-Teresa-Fucking-Counter will be there forever. It’s a little piece of my mind, body and soul that will last for all of eternity. Or until Louis Vuitton can get the next new space and move allowing Coach to move into that spot.
So yea, keep this in mind next time you wanna walk through and try to show off your speckled little pecker like you’re someone I give a fuck about. I don’t have to give a fuck about you. I’m smart though. I know that you’re a whore and you pay for good services. So I bend over backward. I don’t have any more money in the budget but I know that if I can hide a couple extras, I’ll get another gig out of you in the long run and make more cheddar on that one. I know how this shit works. You think I’m dumb cuz I wear a hard hat and carry a tape measure. But I also have a knife and a $150K engineering degree. I know you’re only impressed by Wharton MBAs and Oxford pedigrees. Well while my transcript processes, suck my mother fucking cock.
You think you have great corner offices. Here’s my question to you—have you ever been on a roof overlooking Central Park and found heaven on earth? A place where the city seems serene. You’re not enclosed like in the Empire State Building looking at a faceless ant colony. You’re out there, you can hear the honking and smell the bus that passed 45 seconds ago. You just happen to be overlooking it from 20 stories up. No barricade, just you and a railing you could stand on Titanic style and feel like the king of the western world. You think you take meetings with important people? You ever worked for a movie star? You ever been in a meeting with one of the most recognizable faces in the world? Have you ever been paid your salary to see him make that face or hear him say ‘how ya doin’ just like he did in that Oscar winning performance? I have. It doesn’t make me any better than anyone. What it makes me is a person.
So next time I pass you and say good afternoon ma’am, don’t look at me like you just caught me balls deep in your barely legal daughter. Cuz I doubt I’d be the first in that whore. Please believe this doesn’t pertain to a you who read this. But this is for everyone to keep in mind. I’m sure some of you will call me a hypocrite and say what a dick I am. True, but I don’t fuck nobody that ain got it coming.