My lunch was in that hat
23rd November 2005
 
It has come to my attention that people are mistaking comment-enthusiast "Orc Pointz" for myself, and think I've been spamming my own comments box. I advise those people to please get themselves castrated for the good of humanity, and that goes for those who still confuse Beardo with Agus as well. Thanks.
 
In other news, I have obtained undeniable proof that Oswald has been playing World of Warcraft. When I found this picture, I nearly had a fit. Beardo suggested I get mental help, which I thought was pretty rich considering he just got out of a looney bin. Last week, I disapproved of him stripping-off at home whilst I took a bath to achieve "synchronised nudity" and he called ME twisted. Someone prescribe that guy a grip!
 
Mr Jerky AKA H. Crapman
 
 
Friday 4th November 2005:
Decided it would be a good idea to register orcpoints.com, even though I don't know what I'm going to do with it yet. I'll probably use it to front my own orc points-related home business or something.
 
Saturday 5th November 2005:
The Internet's "Kev" gave me information on World of Warcraft, such as where to buy decent weapons and armour. I kitted myself out with more powerful stuff, without actually checking what it looked like before handing over my bucks. While my game has been improved, I now look like a complete fucking blingwad! Click here to see my obscenely-tight pink pantz and sandals that are inexplicably more-protective than the chunky boots I had previously. This fashion catastrophe will be fixed as soon as I raise enough orc dollars.
 
Wednesday 9th November 2005:
The moronic bitch who doesn't like coffee (01/08/05) confronted someone for making a cup this afternoon. This makes a change from the pathetic implication technique she uses against me. The guy in question is a fucking dickhead, but today he made a surprisingly sane argument. The conversation went something like this:
 
BITCHFACE: Stop drinking coffee, you selfish bastard.
DICKHEAD: Drinking coffee is what people in offices do, so tough shit.
BITCHFACE: But I don't like the smell!
DICKHEAD: Yeah, well I don't like the sound of you typing on your keyboard.
BITCHFACE: Pfft! Well, you could at least stop pointing it at me.
DICKHEAD: What do you mean "pointing it" at you?!
BITCHFACE: Oh typical stupid man! All men are stupid, am I right girls?
DICKHEAD: You have a problem. You keep trying to pick fights with people for no reason.
BITCHFACE: WhatEVER.
 
Thursday 10th November 2005:
Both of the gents toilets at work have been blocked and locked since Monday, which is bad because I've become accustomed to shitting at work. There are surly proles downstairs who are supposed to fix problems like this, but it seems they consider themselves "too good" to unblock toilets now. This afternoon I had to use the disabled toilet and hope no-one would see me. My ravenous dipshit co-workers are just waiting for me to slip up, and this is one I'd rather not let them have.
 
Monday 14th November 2005:
My new job is boring me to death. I spent all day trawling through miles of paperwork trying to locate erroneous mistakes made by Indians on a system whose design was thrown together by a bunch of madmen who'd probably never even met each other. And I hate depending so much on the co-operation of others. This morning, I asked the admin ethnics for some "Gatwick batches" and they stared at me like I'd just asked them to draw me pictures of their parents' genitals or something. They knew exactly what I was talking about, but being insolent towards someone who's politely requested something they should've already been given anyway is a dizzying power-trip for those fucking losers.
 
Tuesday 15th November 2005:
People at work were discussing that guy in the news who recovered from AIDS. One woman genuinely didn't know how AIDS was transmitted, despite all the baffling (or "stylish" to the pretentious fucks behind them) AIDS-awareness posters in the office. Someone stepped in and informed her that people "mostly get it from infected needles when they get a blood transfusion". So I guess those homosexuals need to be less accident prone!
 
Wednesday 16th November 2005:
Someone brought chocolates into work to pass around. One mad women decided it was her duty to hijack the tin and pass it around herself to make sure people didn't "take all the good ones". It's really sad to see grown adults make such a fuss over a bit of fucking chocolate. Also, one of the delivery chimps was marching about the building with a stupid hair-cut. Even though he was in his 40s with hair thin to the point of being transparent, he'd dyed it blond and wore it like this. I don't know if he'd lost a bet or just wants other losers to think he's an extrovert.
 
Thursday 17th November 2005:
A Hayez Squad-esque terrorist approached me in the toilets and tried to "intimidate" me by demonstrating some boxing moves he'd learned from another terrorist. He was shuffling about, jabbing at the air which was quite amusing at first. It got a bit disturbing when he began spazzing-out, working himself into an angry frenzy. I made sure to leave in case he started rolling on the floor, grunting the tune to Disco Inferno or something. He spends a lot of time trying to convince me he's "mental", but I'm sure he's just an idiot.
 
Friday 18th November 2005:
My co-workers have spent the week bringing in old photos of themselves and pinning them up on the wall, so that they can stand around gawping at them with their thumbs up their arses and blocking the corridor. Even when I wasn't trying to get past, I could still hear them shrieking and cackling over the fact that people were once babies, or wore clothes in the 70s that seem a little bit silly in retrospect.
 
Tuesday 22nd November 2005:
Much to my surprise, "Bitchface" made a direct attack on me this afternoon, which will undoubtedly put an end to my coffee-drinking rampage once and for all. Boy, have I learned the error of my evil ways. It went pretty much exactly like this:
 
BITCHFACE: [Mr Jerky], is that you with the strong coffee?
MR JERKY: Yes, it is.
BITCHFACE: It smells very strong.
MR JERKY: Does it.
BITCHFACE: Yeah.
MR JERKY: *swigs coffee*
BITCHFACE: Wait until you have a wife what doesn't like the smell of coffee, then you'll be sorry!
 
Zing? Out of all the threats I've been dealt in my life, this ranks somewhere among the most peculiar. And I will never be sorry, for I'd rather die alone than marry a big spastic who gives me shit for drinking coffee in the workplace. I win this round!
 
Now click here to see Jercullus the Orc gaining many orc points. Enjoy it while you still can: Orc points are being replaced on January 9th, 2006.

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