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It's called Google, dipshits
what kind of fuckery
Okay, I'm going to be up front here. This isn't a critique of someone's lack of parking skill (I left you a diagram, and not only do you still not park correctly, but you drew sex positions all over it and gave it back, signed with a smiley face). This is, rather, a strong suggestion about how you can help me help you.

I will be the first to admit I don't work with the smartest person. One person routinely puts themselves in deathly situations, another gets kidnapped all the goddamn time - fuck, even paralyzed by lip gloss once, and another climbed into a nuclear reactor. Yeah, guess how that one worked out? Stupid twat. He's still bitching about it.

The only smart person other than myself? Not here at the mo. Bit of near-death trouble. And yes, I do miss her. T knew how to do things. She was neat, she was smart, and I don't mean this in an ungentlemanly way, but she looked good from any angle. Not that I saw her from any angle. I- Ah. I digress.

The point of this entry is Google. For fuck's sake. It's one word. I've already put it in everybody's bookmarks (which I organize every other day, because my boss bookmarks a bunch of porn and it gets mixed up with the BBC news and national security links). Stop coming to me and asking me who that lady who played the lady's second cousin who stabbed the person in the back with a letter opener on that soap. Google it.

Recipe for manicotti? Google it.

Weather forecast? Google it.

Sale on edible underwear? Google it. By all means, consult me before you order it, because I have a sneaking suspicion what will be done with it.

But the fact remains, I have other things to do. Or do you not see me holding your trousers and the keys to the company car, waiting to go dry clean and press your clothes before running other errands. I can't stop every thirty seconds to hear your pointless, meaningless questions about who won Strictly Ballroom last year or the year before and who is that guy my handsome boss looks like again?

Speaking of which, they do look rather similar. And they both have a habit of taking out certain parts of their anatomy and waving said parts about. I makes me wonder whether or not there's a side to my boss none of us have seen. Probably the sane, sensible, less-sued-for-harassment side.*

* Though to be honest, he isn't sued. Ever. He has ways.


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