You read that correctly. I am sick of I Stole Your Lunch. The hours are too long, the working conditions are abominable, and all the bulleted lists are giving me a hernia. Trade me. Now.
I'm serious. You want to know how serious? I put the Best Toaster Ever up for sale on EBay, sold all my stock in the Foggy Goggle, and rolled Kelly Clarkson out of the shower curtain and told her to take a hike. How serious am I? Damn serious.
I demand to be sent somewhere warm, with an ocean view and better background templates, preferably close to Natash Bedingfield.
Do it now, or I will make your life a living hell. I won't show up. And when the media comes looking for me, I'll go outside and do squat thrusts in my driveway while answering questions. You will not be happy when you see me on the 10 o'clock news telling Amalia Badadadadadada all about how I've been mistreated.
Or maybe I will slap a Mike Brilla mask on your face so Starla will beat the shit out of you.
So trade me. Right now. I don't care that I signed a long term deal worth more money than you'll ever see. I'm Scott fuckin Colby, and I want out. And I get what I want.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment