Jellybeans, Babies and Nibbletts

I ran into an old co-worker down at the Pump N' Go on the way to work yesterday morning. I told ya'll about her way back when, on that other blog that I had to kill because of Bubbles' big mouth. Jellybean worked in the sales department with Bubbles back when they kept it out in the dungeon, in another part of the building. She and I never got along much, although I did try for a while. She had worked with Ma before she came to work here, when Ma worked down at the river rafting company with all the smelly hippy people.

Ma, of course, thought Jellybean was God's gift to office employees everywhere and sang her praises whenever I mentioned her. She'd go on and on about how great she was and how Jellybean didn't have to work because her family was so well off. I guess Jellybean had never ripped her a new one for paging her to the phone or climbed up her butt sideways for taking a message when she thought she should be paged.

To say Jellybean and I clashed is an understatement.

Ma would say I was just too sensitive. Whatever.

Jellybean was fired from her job here when, after having a baby at 40, she came in late, left early, took two hour lunches and didn't show up half the time. Of course, when I moved into her position in sales upon her departure, the town rumor mill got cranked up and decided I'd "gotten her fired."

I don't know how in the hell all these people figure I've got so much pull around here. It seems like every time people start laying out, not calling in and eventually getting fired for it, I get blamed. It wasn't me that got her preggers. And? I couldn't help that the Bubba Baby Daddy was going to court, accused of sexual misconduct with his other daughter and that Jellybean had to miss work when she was summoned to court as a witness. She was apparently present when whatever happened took place.

Anywho...

I haven't seen Jellybean in about four years but I came face to face with her when I turned to leave the Pump N' Go yesterday morning. I spoke, but she just gave me The Big Fat Hairy Eyeball. This time last year it would have really bothered me, but ya know what? That's right... screw her and her old sourpuss self. I couldn't care less.

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I was informed via text by The Amazon yesterday that the owner of the sandwich shop had presented her with a bill for $50 for the sign I crushed last week. So much for "don't worry about it." It's a good thing I got my federal refund in the mail yesterday.

It's already gone, but some stuff is paid off.  Now if my state would just come in...

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Remember RiRi Niblett and her amazing, undeniable coochie? Well, guess what I found out. That's right. RiRi has a corn muffin in the oven. The jury's still out on who the baby daddy is, but rumor has it that Maddie took that triflin' piece of chicken poop back. He's been seen in and around the holler for the past month, doing his best to avoid Maddie's mom and everyone else who knows what he did.

The plot thickens.

If I was that boy, I'd be keeping a fire extinguisher nearby at all times.

On that note, I'd better get back to work, humping it for the man. It is Humpday after all.

Ya'll have a good one, we'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!