Chapter Six: Odds And The Ends

We are allowed to listen to music at work. Mostly it�s Their music, which consists of horrible, unbearable, pop-music garbage, oldies, and Dixie Chicks. So I made a few cd�s with as much radio friendly rock/metal I could find. This made the other music slightly more tolerable; especially since I made damn sure my cd�s were 80 minutes long.

But the New Girl, you know, the one who got hired over me, well she, being convinced she is black, listens to brain-mushing rap, hip-hop/R&B, and dance music.

This, of course, is all the forms of music I completely abhor.

And then, she breaks out the gospel music. Not just any ol� gospel music, oh no, remember, she is (pardon my racist term) a wigger. So her gospel music is fucking reggae. Reggae for Jesus, can it possibly get any worse?

Oh wait, yes it can. Since the first week of November I have been forced to listen to Christmas �music.� And most of this �music� is supplied by people owned by Disney, and American/Canadian Idol winners.

I believe this is an environment similar to what a postal worker endured a few years back.