Ok... Snoopy Dance! And so much Schadenfreude...

You can go here and figure out if I am Snoopy or Woodstock.

With all the horror in my life lately, I decided to call my dearest former colleague. 'Oh, am so busy training our new director.'

And I said 'WHA!??? AM QUIT?'

No, Preciousess. The Gang of Four kicked her ass out, and seemingly it wasn't pretty. Annti, I want to send you a bottle, hell, a MAGNUM of champagne, real champagne. Now she knows how it feels. At least with me, they were fucking polite.

She was never 'polite' with them. I remember her telling the youngest to put down the toilet seat after he had been in the WC, and said it stank.

(I thought right then and there, whoa! What the FUCK are you aiming for, you stupid idjit???) The 'youngest' addressed me, and said, 'Do you HEAR how she treats me?'

I just shrugged, and said, 'Why shouldn't she treat you as if you were someone else???'

He was speechless, but he didn't get it.

But they came in with big guns, and fired her ass to hell.

I hope....

That she throws up for five months, never knowing where it is going to happen.

I hope...

that she becomes a more bitter bitch than she is now, and I can slap her on the bus one day.

I hope... that she finds nothing to fulfill her life. Ever.

Yeah, that is pretty hard as far as my thing goes. But can I help it when people really hurt me, and I am glad about it? It isn't right, somehow.

But on the other hand, oh, fucking good work, Karma.

And I didn't do a single thing to bring it about.

So, Snoopy dance...

And Annti, you can put the woodchipper in the shed for the time being... And I love you.