So hats off to the drugged-out pothead frickin’ idiot dude that for some reason actually gets paid a salary at my office.

Why ‘hats off’, you ask? Well, hats off, high fives, and tequila shots all around, because the kid not only gets stoned ON THE JOB all the freakin’ time, in addition to doing things like making up names (“I have a Mr. Zucchini on the line for you”) while covering the reception desk, not ever stamping any document as is required by the uptight bigwigs, and obstructing the path to things like light switches, doorknobs, THE FLOOR, ya know, basic complete freakin’ imbecile stuff.

Argh, now I’m rambling… ah yes, so IN ADDITION to all that crap that he does wrong and has done wrong consistently for the past, I dunno, six months of employment, the kid never checks his email, but when he DOES check his email and opens my email with the subject line of “SSSHHH – SECRET baby shower for ___ – SURPRISE – DO NOT TELL”, what does he do?

C’mon, Imaginary Readers. Help me out. You know what he does. He fucking asks the preggers lady about it. “So, when’s that baby shower of yours again?”

I. Could. Kill. Him.

DON’T DO DRUGS, kids. At least not at work. Sweet Jesus. All that work for my surprise baby shower for nothin’. Ah well, it’s the thought that counts. And, ya know, the urinalysis. Ahem.


Maybe I’ll try and get him fired for her present. She doesn’t much appreciate the workplace obstacles he leaves, given her current state. Yeah, actually, now I’m on to something…

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