A Saint Dirty Face™ Blog**

You ever notice how everyone is still pretending things are normal?

The economy: perfectly stable, definitely not powered by hopes, prayers, and four credit cards taped together like a Frankenstein wallet. Society: totally united, as long as nobody speaks, breathes, or makes eye contact. Workplaces: smoothly functioning, if you ignore the smoke, the alarms, and Cheryl in HR chain-smoking behind the dumpster whispering, “I can’t do this anymore.”

Meanwhile me?

I don’t go to work and deal with their bullshit anymore.

Nope.

I walked out of that circus tent like a lion who realized the whip guy is 5’6”, pre-diabetic, and one panic attack away from folding.

I’m not fighting clowns for peanuts.

Not anymore.

Today (Thursday) Shows Up Like:

“Hey. Remember me? Reality? Yeah… I’m still garbage.”

And everyone else just keeps clocking in

like they’re volunteering for psychological experiments sponsored by Monster Energy and unresolved childhood trauma.

I watch from a healthy distance now, like wildlife research:

Ah yes. Observe the American Worker in their natural habitat: hunched, caffeinated, and spiritually deceased.

Majestic creatures, truly.

Work Culture in 2025:

“We’re a family.”

Oh absolutely.

A family.

The kind of family where:

the favorite child gets promoted for breathing, the middle child does all the work and gets “pizza party” recognition, and the uncle in accounting is one bad audit away from a manifesto.

I remember supervisors saying crap like:

“We all must sacrifice.”

Buddy…

You mean us, not you.

You’re giving inspirational speeches while driving home in a new SUV bought with the savings from firing half the staff.

And you have the nerve to sip a Starbucks latte while talking about “budget concerns”?

Get thee behind me, Spreadsheet Judas.

But let’s talk about the real code of the workplace:

Look busy. Pretend to care. Die quietly so no one has to fill out extra forms.

Extra credit if you:

say “Sure, no problem” when it is in fact a problem go to a “team building event” in a park that smells like hot dog water or apologize to the printer.

Yes.

We’ve all done that walk of shame:

“Please… just print… I’m begging you.”

Meanwhile, I’m Just Out Here Like:

I didn’t “quit.”

I escaped.

I pulled a Shawshank Redemption but with more cussing and fewer tunnels.

The sun hits different when you ain’t being spiritually mugged.

And Here’s the Gospel Truth:

We are not broken.

We are awake.

We finally realized the system was designed to drain us, tame us, and replace us with someone cheaper.

And we said:

Nah. I’m still holy enough to cause trouble.

Rebellion isn’t always fire and riots.

Sometimes rebellion is:

Sleeping in. Breathing. Laughing. Remembering you have a soul.

Today’s Prayer:

Lord,
keep my mouth shut just long enough
to avoid jail time,
but not so long that I start tolerating fools again.
Amen.

Closing Words

We may be tired.

We may be sarcastic.

We may be out here mentally flipping tables like Jesus in the temple on $2 margarita night.

But we’re here.

Still unbroken.

Still aware.

Still dangerous.

Stay Dirty.

Stay Rebellious.™

— Saint Dirty Face