The Diary of a Freelancer: What can be white and black and paper all over?

List. We live by 'em. Things to be done. Things to buy. Like that dickhead dressed in the latest metro look-at-my-nipples-when-I-stand-by-the-frozen-section fashion in a supermarket reading his grocery list off an iPad. Great. But the list that is most important... well the kind that ensure you remember what's good for you and what's bad for you. You will come across certain companies and individuals that mean you no good. Matter of fact, they mean you every bit of harm.

They belong on the Blacklist. Of course, racially sensitive words are not my thing *kaffkaffonlyrizMCEnglishDefenseLeagueandeveryPoliticianinBritainkaffkaff*. So these companies belong on the Shitlist. It's ugly covered in blood and spilled milk and Chips Ahoy cookie crumbs.

The Waterlist, or the pure list, which always happens to be quite short, are certain caliber people you would go to war for without question.These, I regard, as comrades. 2 people are definitely on this list.


Then my friends there is the infamous Greylist. The Greylist is a bit funny. You don't particularly like how said company or people treat you, but you kinda want to see the end of the tunnel. Or simply the work relationship is too much in its embryonic stage to make any judgements. My Greylist is huge.

It's Christmas Eve. Need some creeper liquors in me and see if that will better my Black Ops dominion. Sweet. Merry Christmas dudes and dudettes. I'll be praying for some of you. Others I'll make a footnote comment after the 'Amen'. The rest I'll hurl your name out in disgust. Like vomit. I kid.

Sum up,
Peace on earth, good will to all decent men. Ho, ho ho, have you seen my naughty list?