who the wuc is cult boy?

Cult Boy is the fucken chump who sits next to me at work.

He dresses like a Corky and watches me like a puppy waiting to be let out so he doesn’t crap on the carpet. Where other people have dysfunction, he has beige non-offensive answers to every goddamn thing. His cult leader tendencies and creepy I-will-make-you-love-me-even-if-I-have-to-forcefeed-you-rainbows smile are drive me Kurt Cobaine.

The sound of him eating lunch is akin to the lapping of Fat Bastard’s saliva glands as he eyes a baby. I hate his sounds as if we’ve been married for thirty fucking years. Every fucking hum, every fucking slurp makes me want to shoot him in the nipple with a BB gun so many times, it makes him look like he has a lopsided man boob.

Also known as: Flanders, Thunderbird Boy and Hymey.

14 thoughts on “who the wuc is cult boy?

  1. OMG I also have to sit next to a complete retarded fooking freak at work. She is known by many people as orange or plastic spastic as she applies soooo much fake tan that she is permenantly orange (think oompa loompa). She also has false nails, false hair, false tits. In fact I don’t think there is a single original bit of her left! She dresses like she walked into a jumble sale wearing a blind fold and has been forced to wear everything she has touched and has a permenant dripping nose causing her to sniff all freaking day long!!! If I have to hear those ugly fake nails clacking on the keyboard one more time I may just have to insert said keyboard up her orange ass!
    God it feels good to vent! Maybe I should remove all my photos from my blog and turn it into a bitch-fest!!
    Anyhoo your blog is fantastic :)

  2. OK, I’m sensing a little animosity here that if left unchecked could fester and reduce your quality time at work. Find his qualities and together you can bring them out in him making you both better people in the process.

    Now, don’t you feel those negative emotions towards him diminishing, maybe moving off in a new direction.

    Sharing is one of life’s little gifts.

  3. Hi! Thanks for liking one of my posts :) I’ve been getting a good laugh out of a few of yours. I truly feel your hums&slurps-induced pain, but isn’t it funny how one’s very own pain becomes automatically hilarious when put into writing? Must be why gallows humour is so awesome.
    Keep it up

  4. I think there’s an unarticulated law of the universe dictating that we who are driven mad by those incessant people sounds shall be the ones stuck next to the people who make said sounds loudest and most frequently.

    (I got the thigh-slapping, ring-clanking, foot-tapping, not-quite-vocal-keening one who laughs at every nothing like she’s hyperventilating and consumes consumables at all hours of the day. Of course, she favors crunchy foods.)

    1. Aint it the truth, aint it the truth (to be said like a mob boss in lamenting that gangsters aint what they used to be). Crack up at the description of your very own fucktard and commis (erations), yo.

  5. There’s nothing like over-the-top bloodthirstiness to make me laugh my posterior off, and there’s something about your prose that regularly engages the Twisted Humor Center in my brain.

wot say you?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: