Fuck This Place

How creepy is this place I work at? Appallingly. My boss is cut from the greasy used car saleman in a pr0n video mold. He also has teeth that are very British. Runofthemill questions become snide and insinuating when he asks them. I feel soiled when I am around him. When he oberves my work his creepiness causes me to fuck it up, and then he makes noncommital but somehow knowing remarks. When he asks a question, and I answer he checks for himself because apparently he assumes I am an idiot. How creepy is he? So creepy that just now when I retrieved my lunch from the refrigerator, I wondered if he put something in my Gatorade when the cap came off too easily. THAT creepy. And I haven’t even mentioned how his fawning greed makes the duplicator’s job even more onerous. I won’t get into that lest I seize and froth. fuck this place.

2 thoughts on “Fuck This Place

  1. boy it did take long for somebody to get tired of a routine job. Got the Christmas card…thanks You make me look bad as I haven’t even started. Anywho in the words of the imortal Homer Simpson: “If you don’t like your job, you don’t srike. You just go in and do it half assed. That’s the American way.”

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