So, I'm Going About This All Wrong

As I'm sure a lot of you know (and if you don't, I expect you to turn in your Geek Membership badge immediately, and don't let the door hit your ass on the way out) that NPR had interviews with various bloggers who lost their jobs because of what they wrote/posted on their blogs. The first, and possibly most well known, was the First Lady of Getting Your Ass Fired for Talking Smack About Your Supes: Heather Armstrong of Dooce.

I, however, am the First Lady of Doing Everything Ass-Backwards. See, I waited till I was fired by The Bastards That Canned Me before writing about how bastardly The Bastards That Canned Me really are. Pity, that. To think that I could have told the world at large that there was this one supervisor whose make-up regime clearly involved pushing her face into a birthday cake every morning. Then there was Johnny-Paul Redneck Boy, who was clearly the result of first cousins getting a little too chummy in the back of the pickup while parked behind the Dairy Queen. Oh, and then there was Little Miss Fishmouth, who was, to put it delicately, a raging disease-spreading whore.

But do I do this? Do I spread this bile and venom about the powers that be at BastardCo, earning myself a blogosphere martyrdom and inclusion in UrbanDictionary? Nooooooo! I do it after the fact, which probably means that the fuckers will be calling me tomorrow, offering me a company car, a corner office, and a cabana boy named Raoul.

Bastards.