This is not just a thread about Sheryl, it’s about where I work. I’ll start with Sheryl, though.
Fuckin’ A, bitch, this happens every month. You are paid to do your job. I had the Peterson account all but put to bed, and you screwed it up. All you had to do was go over there and notarize the damn signature. But it’s your time of the month, so you got all big, hairy, and ill tempered. You didn’t have to eat him! Damnit, don’t you get the weather channel? The full moon is every 28 days. Take a sick day! I only hired you because of the affirmative action regarding “Lupine Americans”. And don’t even talk to me about disability regarding your “condition”. How many times do I have to tell you? Take a sick day! And quit sniffing my dog’s but. He’s more freaked out than I am.
While I’m at it, let me tell y’all about accounts receivable. The vampires down the hall are pretty good about getting clients to pay up. Those guys could squeeze blood from a stone. But really. Would it kill you to show up at 8 AM? And the mail room, good God. Damn zombies. Every time I go down there it’s “brraaiinnss”. Look you idiots, I’m looking forward to lunch, too, but you you don’t see me shuffling around mumbling "hhaamm ssaanndwitch "
Happy Halloween
I don’t know whether it’s your username or your manner of writing, Monkey, (probably both) but you consistently remind me of Eddie Izzard with your posts. The stream of consciousness here is quite reminiscent.
That being said … uh, wuh? I give you a 9 on creativity but a 4 on Pitworthiness. I’m not sure what’s going on here, but it sounds funny.
No, it is about having to work with a werewolf… And I REALLY hope not a werewolf that is on the rag. I’d be running away, real fast.
(Oh, and you can find the guys from A/R. Look up. See those little fuzzy things on the ceiling? That is them. But I wouldn’t disturb them - you have to sleep sometime.)
Do you have any ghosts working at your office, **Monkey With a Gun[/b[? There were a few of them where I used to work, and they were a royal pain in the ass. Drifting through the cubicle walls and popping up behind my monitor without warning to ask questions instead of using the phones or email was bad enough, but the way they would haunt the break room during lunchtime…How can we be expected to eat with ectoplasm dripping everywhere?
Red went and bought himself a monkey
Got him from a pawn shop broker
Taught that monkey how to guzzle beer
And he taught him out to play stud poker
Last night when they were gambling in the kitchen
The monkey he was taking a beating
The monkey said Red, “I’m going to shoot you dead
Because I know damn well you been a cheating.”
As for working with lycanthropes? Worst of all the protected classes in my opinion. They try so hard to just fit in but it would really be best if they just admit that they have a problem and take the day off. I mean, how could they not know they’re going to maul everyone in sight–I don’t think I’m alone in wishing they’d show the rest of us just a little consideration and not expose me to their filthy disease.
Hey man, I like Hellboy. Inigo Montoya isn’t right either, if that’s any consolation, but I like both interpretations.
A few, but they mostly telecommute. R and D sabbaticals “off site”. Nobody ever sees those motherfuckers. They still lurk, though, 'cause I know somebody keeps getting the Bloo Berries before I do.
Fuckers.
And don’t even get me started about the damn chupacabra drinking all my milk. It’s from a cow not a goat, 'ya idiot.
Well, I’m tired of The Monster Under The Bed grabbing my ankles. I have told him that there are no children in this house and there are not going to be children in this house. Will he leave? Oh no - he LIKES that bed.
Anyone interested in a slightly occupied four-poster?
I don’t mind the werewolves so much- just toss them scraps of raw beef for a couple of days every month and they’re pretty nice to you. What I hate are the aliens. You wouldn’t believe how many of them become complacent, oh so sure that no one knows that they are really from outer space. They think they have us all fooled. But I know. Oh, I know. Don’t think I don’t know.
Just don’t get me started on the fairies, either. Flitting around the office, pretending to be working but all they did is gossip all day. And I think some of them were spying for management.
