My life is like a trippy David Lynch movie these days. Rehearsals for my upcoming stint at the Bay Area Gated Community Poetry Group keep getting interrupted by all these RIFs I have to deal with. Did you ever even try reading a list of 7000 names, let alone rationalizing one? It friggin blows.
Yeah, sure. I shouldn't bitch because I get to keep my job. And I'll be the first to admit that things haven't gone so well under my reign. Now these new Board guys have been crawling up my ass like you wouldn't believe.
Here's the thrashing I had to sit through the other day from these frigtards. Pissed me off no end because it made me late for my Pilates class.
"Jonathan, shut up for once in your life and let's do the numbers:
Shareholder value? Billions gone. Poof! Scooter has lost so much that he's taken up Copenhagen chewing tobacco. You thought he was a prick before this shit? Now he spits chaw all over the ice at his hockey games and gets in a weekly fist fight with one of the opposing chiptards. He's the only guy we've ever seen walking around the EBC with a chew cup. And he has this annoying habit of spitting right after he says the word "Jonathan."
Job creation. We don't buy this shit that this negative index number is simply reflective of the economy. Ten thousand families are on the street due to your complete failure, Jonathan. You think they give a rat's ass about your freetard rationalizations?
Financial performance. Don't tell us that Wall Street just doesn't get it right now. Did you ever even hear of Goodwill Impairment before we came along. I didn't think so.
Now, some of you look at this and are calling for me to step down. Not so fast. I've got the following speech memorized from my buddy, Illinois Governor Blagojevich:
"I’ve got this thing, and it’s fucking golden. And I’m just not giving it up for fucking nothing. I’m not going to do it. And I can always use it. I can parachute me there."
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