Okay, I tried to keep this under control but I think the only way I can get in a decent mood again is to let all this shit out, sorry. I am seriously breaking my rule about not talking about work TWICE today. Here we motherfucking go…

1. Look dickweed. Whenever you ask me a dumbass question and I look at you and don’t say anything for a full five seconds, it is NOT because I’m thinking of how to properly word my answer. It is because I am taking those precious seconds to suppress the nearly overwhelming urge I am having at that exact moment to rip off your arms and beat you to a pulp with them. No joke.

2. I actually functioned in my job capacity BEFORE you decided to take over this particular office. And I was good at it. So all this shit you are changing just because you got a wild hair up your ass (although how it made it past the telephone pole you keep permanently lodged up there is a mystery to everyone) is completely unnecessary.

3. QUIT FUCKING ASKING ME WHEN I’M GOING TO BE PREGNANT!!!!! Seriously, just stop it. You are messing with SERIOUS hormones here you stupid fuck. And I assure you, you’ll KNOW because I will be wearing a big shit-eating grin. Plus, I’ll probably tell you.

4. Look, people hate you. Like, they might kill you in your sleep hate you. So quit complaining that “office morale” is low and figure out why. Before your ass showed up this was a fairly pleasant place to work. But now…yeah…not so much.

5. Hey. Shithead. You talk too much. And when you send me an email about something, I swear to fucking GOD it is not necessary to call down to me 2 seconds after you hit send to ask me if I got it. I sit in front of my computer ALL DAY. I got your email. Both of them.

6. This “FYI” shit you start every conversation with…don’t. If you are telling me something, I can pretty much guess that you are telling me FOR MY INFORMATION.

7. Go home, get laid. Please, you’ll enjoy it I swear. And you will be doing us ALL a favor.

8. When someone is out of work because his wife was diagnosed with breast cancer, it is SO NOT OKAY to call him at the HOSPITAL and ask when he is going to be back at work. That makes you pretty much the worst human being who ever lived.

9. Please respect my space. If you are talking to me I would prefer you not stand where I can a) see your face lift scars or b) count your pores. You look like Frankenstein you fucking freak.

10. I have nothing else. But I cannot tell you all how much better I feel. I am so seriously sorry that you had to suffer through this rant. DAMN!