Asses, elbows, and those all important distinctions.

Fuck myself

Now where did I put that elbow?

 I dropped out of school early. Never finished high school. To some that is a regret they never quite reconcile. But after spending years dealing with the recipients of higher learning I truly wish I could go back. To drop out even sooner. I haven’t had a linear conversation in so long I start to wonder if there is such a thing. I don’t have the foggiest how some of these newly minted dingbats ever get through a day. Ecstacy?

Who dresses these people in the morning?  We all know the score, these preppies are cheaper by the dozen. The level of miscommunications I have to deal with is laughable, except for one important issue: my invoice.  You no pay, we no play. Got it?

It’s not like you’ve been wrestling a huge business development deal down to the ground or anything. I understand you have to make coffee, order pizza and chain your left leg to the copy machine but you’re in a legitimate business until you turned mine into, oh, whatever.

Maybe you should check with the janitorial group and see if the radon levels are abnormally high. What a way to run a friggin’ business. This is the third time this year I’ve had to pull the plastic bag off your head to get you some oxygen. You’re future, as are you, don’t look very bright at the moment because I know how to let incompetence slip out to the right people with a name attached. Very subtly. Whaddya gonna do? Not pay me?

So unless you and your CEO or manager just happen to be studying Kama Sutra at your book of the month club meetings, I would get this drill down: Ass, elbow, ass, elbow, ass, elbow, ass, elbow,ass, elbow, ass, elbow, ass, elbow, ass, elbow, forehead.

Next time, look up vigorish. It’s all the rage in Southie.

Please note: I welcome comments that are offensive, illogical or off-topic from readers in all states of consciousness.

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