I wish I could tell my coworker that I don't care that her country side of the family decided to name one of their daughters "Baby Sis."
I'm going to start counting how many times my coworkers say "nig", "nigga" or "nigs". So far, we're at 3.
One just said, "These flakes in my hair be nasty." Another coworker has been talking about her eyebrows for 20 minutes.
"If alls he wants to be watchin' is the Discovery channel and he don't wanna watch cartoons, turn the damn tv off."
They've been talking about getting their hair pressed for a 1/2 hour. Sitting in a group, obviously not doing any work, talking about hair.
"Nig" count is now at 5.
"I'ma be bustin out laughin'. That shit is a damn shame. Girl, that is a straight mess."
"Oh aight, lemme fine out. You betta see if you can get some free rent up in that bitch."
"The patients name is Arthur Stare... Stare as in stairs... yes, like the ones you walk up. S-T-A-R-E"
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