The war continues....
Believe it or not, I actually got a reply from the moronic writer for our local paper. In the opening line, he told me that I should apply for a job with the paper if I am so inclined to write. I will not be taking him up on this offer because, and I paraphrase, I don't have any respect for the publication and do not wish to attach my name to something so sucky. So here is my main thought about this reply....if someone totally slammed you and basically took a chunk out of your manhood/womanhood, and you felt the need to respond, would you not make sure that your reply was up to par??? That seems like the logical thing to me, but then again, some people just aren't logical--namely this idiot. His e-mail was filled with typos and fragments that proved my point--he cannot write to save his life. "And if I use run-ons and fragments to do it." This was actually one of his sentences!!! Show me how that is even a complete thought???? What the F---is wrong with people. If you can't write a good article that is worthy of reading then find another job, for the love! I did hear that McDonalds was accepting applications. Maybe I'll pass on this information.
Of course, being the jerk that I am (thank you for pointing that fact out Johan), I could not let this atrocity go...I laid into him again and held nothing back. I believe I ended my e-mail mentioning that an English refresher course at one of the local universities might do him some good. Nick= 2, Brian= -5. I told the girls in my office about all of this and they all looked at me as if I had written my own death sentence. Apparently they are all scared that he is going to figure out who I am and tear into like none other. I guess he has a temper. Oh won't that be interesting. Try it bastard. I'll kick your ass.

So I'm alittle bitchy tonight...we're all entitled to those days especially when your boss treats you like shit and you can't do anything about it. I literally almost walked out today and told her I was done. She is such a BITCH (I know I'm a potty mouth right now---sorry). Basically I have been working my ass off on these busy, dirty work projects that she has concockted (sp?) for me. Today I spent nearly 5 hours in a back hallway on my feet going through 50+ boxes of thousands upon thousands of speeding tickets dating back to '98. In all, I have list that is 71 pages long of tickets that I have to find and pull out, and sort accordingly. In the 5 hours that I worked on this ridiculous piece of crap, blah blah blah, I got through 7 pages of the list; that's all. I'm going to be stuck back in this hall for the rest of the summer.....well here's the reason I am mad--20 minutes before the end of the day (the last half hour of each day, we close our main door, the girls balance out for the night, and we sit around and talk) I was sorting through some of my pictures from Africa which I had brought to show the girls. My boss had the audacity to say to one of the other girls in front of me, "Tomorrow we apparently need to find something for her to do. I'm not paying her to look at pictures." That Bitch. I turned around, looked her in the face and in the same tone simply said, "This is the first time I have even touched this box today." What I really wanted to say, though, was "Well you don't have to worry about paying me anymore because after tomorrow, you can find somebody else to do your lame, sucky jobs that you saved for me simply because you're too lazy of an asshole to do them yourself." Yeah that's pretty much what ran through my head.
I came home and cried. I hate this job.

I'm not gonna lie, I sometimes tend to be alittle cocky....oh but have I just been humbled.
Last week a writer for our local newspaper wrote this incredibly horrible article which made the front page. The content of the article wasn't bad, however the grammar and sentence structure was literally the worst I have seen. It was so bad I couldn't get past the first five sentences. A junior high kid on crack could do better. Well because I am apparently an English nerd, I could not let this monstrocity (sp?) go. So tonight I sat down to write an e-mail to this staff writer as well as the editor. Now I am not one to use alot of tact--God didn't see fit to grace me with the gift. The e-mail was brutal to say the least; I might as well have questioned this guys manhood. Here's the kicker---and yes there is always a kicker---I know this writer personally. It just so happens that he is the court reporter (I work in a court) and he comes in my office EVERYDAY to get the court news. He also wrote a cover article about me last year so it's not like I see him in passing and he has never heard my name....Alright so here we go. Of course I did not, in a million years, plan on signing my name to this e-mail. God imagine the Hell that would raise. Oh no, I actually signed it "Someone Who Knows How to Write an Article," and sent it under my new e-mail address. But you know the really funny thing about e-mail addresses is that they always have your name right before your address in the 'From' line. Yeah that's great. Didn't even consider my name popping up there. That's the kicker. I have spent the past half hour trying to find some way to erase this e-mail from his box, but to no avail. I'm pretty much screwed. My only hope is that he may not be bright enough to put everything together and may not remember my last name; it was last year....but then again I wouldn't be that lucky. It's my life were talking about here.