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 I hope you all had a wonderful Valentines Day, and I hope you enjoy my
Special-Holiday Valentine Edition of Ask Bob.
However, I don't think I'm allowed to celebrate Valentines Day, because I have recently rejected all religions
and I have embraced the philosophy of pure hate.
I hate everything. The food I eat, the clothes I wear and the people I know. I even hate the people I don't know.
In fact, I hate you. If you want,
you can send me an email with your name and an attachment with your picture, I will tell you how much and why I
hate you in the next Ask Bob. I will probably tell you that you are ugly too. Click Here, to just
send your name.
Everything is hated by me. No reason, I don't need a reason because I now dislike everything equally. If anyone
ever asks for a reason, all I have to say is..."I don't know, I hate everything - stupid."
Friday morning, I get up and get some coffee and hear cats fighting outside my door. I open the door and throw
hot coffee on the cats because I hate them. Then I laugh and go to work.
So I'm at work and I realize that it's a little chilly. I hate being chilly, so I think to myself, "Who do
they think they are trying to make me freeze this way...those bastards - I hate them!" Well they weren't gonna
wear me down with their maniacal feet freezing tactics.
On my break, I get me a nice cup of hot chocolate, I go to the counter and I fill up the break room sink with hot
water, then I sit my ass down on one of them microwaves and soak my feet in the nice warm water.
"Ahhhhhhhh...warm," I whisper to myself.
I probably should have taken my shoes off first.
My feet were warm and that was all that mattered. People stared at me during break, but it didn't matter because
I hate them all. I stared back at them with wide open eyes, making sure they realized that I wanted them all to
die.
Then I go slosh-slosh-sloshing back to work, leaving a trail of water that splashes off my wet shoes and socks
as I go down the hall and up the stairs. I hear a thud behind me and see a co-worker tumbling down the stairs.
His shoe flew off as he fell.
He slipped on my trail of water and I laugh because I hate him.
Later that day, I get called to my bosses' office and he tells me soaking my feet is inappropriate behavior at
the workplace. I spit in his face and tell him I hate him. Then I suddenly get nervous and run out of his office
and into my cubicle and pretend it never happened.
He doesn't pretend it never happened and now I don't have a job.
This hate thing doesn't work as well as I thought it would. I think I hate, hating.
I think.
I'd love to sit and write for you bastards some more but you are just not worth the effort. Besides, some Mormons
just came to my front door. I am very confused right now, maybe I'll just have a cup of coffee and talk to them.
And now you know.
Coming up: Sally the throw-up
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