Hey. In my previous post, I said that I'm not some loose cannon, 'disgruntled' employee planning to ventilate my coworkers with an AK-47. And this is true. Very true. But I have to admit that—for a long time now—I've intended to carry out the following plan on my last day of work here. Can you imagine the look on his face when he reaches into that drawer for a file folder?
i had big dreams along these lines at my last job -- i had a bottle of expired orange juice that i kept for five years. i cut a viewing window in the side so you could see the murky separation. the plan was to toss it molotov cocktail-style when i had my druthers. instead after ten years they let me go because of "new management" and when they sent me my things the bottle was missing. i loved that bottle. my assistants made a little head and some arms for him. i called him junkie juicy juice. i have a picture of him still. :P
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ReplyDeleteThere used to be an outfit online that would send realistic looking (and smelling and every other -ing) human feces, anonymously, to whoever you directed them to.
ReplyDeleteI was a surgeon with that, um, shit. Don't seat me in a timely manner at your restaurant because you're too busy talking with some rich twat who you feel is of more import than moi? Shit. Sell me a bad tire? Shit. Cordially invite me to attend a PTA meeting? Shit. (That last one is a joke, but I thought about it.)