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Dangit KHV, I REALLY hate my job. It's crap.
Actually, it wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the people I worked with. Here, let me give you a basic layout:

First, there is this supermodel wannabe chick. Well, she's pretty hot I suppose, but GOD she is freaking USELESS. The girl is CONSTANTLY fixing her hair and putting on makeup like a whiny little beeyotch. She is EXTREMELY self-centered and NEVER thinks about anyone else's needs but her own. She's dumb as a box of rocks, and I find it surprising she has the brain power to be able to breathe.

Now the next chick is the complete opposite. She might even be one of the smartest people on the planet! Her career opportunities are endless, yet she chose us, and why, I'll never know. She is a 0 on a scale from 1 to 10. I'm not even sure she showers, much less brush her hair or teeth. I honestly think she's a lesbian.

But the jewel of the crown has to be the freaking stoner, and this guy is your average pothead. In fact, he is baked before he comes to work, during work, and I'm sure after work. He probably hasn't been sober any time within the last 10 years, and he's 22. He dresses like a beatnik throwback from the 60's, and to make things worse, he brings his huge dog to work EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Every day I have to look at this huge great dane half stoned from all the second hand smoke. Heck, sometimes I think it's even trying to talk under it's constant bellowing. Also, both of them are constantly hungry, requiring multiple stops to places like McDonalds or Burger King.
EVERY.
SINGLE.
FREAKING.
DAY.

So anyway, I drive these ******s around in my van and we solve mysteries n' stuff.