December 3rd, 2002:

ooh ooh that smell… can’t you smell that smell?

I want to go sit at the desk of the bitch who just made microwave popcorn, light a cigarette, and exhale every drag directly into her face. And she had the nerve to complain that she could smell cigarette smoke whenever we came in through the back door after smoking. She ought to have to eat her damn popcorn outside, and then walk up one flight of stairs (in the rain), then walk through the building, and then back down a flight of stairs just so we don’t smell it when she opens the door to come back in. That’s what we ended up having to do.