just when you think things can't get any weirder... they made me chairman , oops, chairperson (fuck! i hate the PC police!) of the newly formed anti-sexual harassment committee here at work.
go on, laugh. it's funny.
i know. what the fuck were they thinking? it's like i'm the last guy who would even give a rat's ass if someone gets sexually harassed in the office. okay, that was just mean. sorry, but am i even qualified for this shit? i only think that i already have my hands full doing PR and branding in the office.
plus... i love porn. i think that right there constitutes an outright disqualification, doesn't it?
*bing!* (in case you're wondering, that's the sound of a light bulb switched on. pretty lame, eh?)
come to think of it, maybe my appointment in this committee won't take much of my time afterall. and if i'm really lucky (and the guys at the office just layoff the booze a bit) i won't be doing work with it at all. you see, the committee will act as a grievance desk to handle the evaluation and pass judgment on sexual harassment cases.
*wicked story jump*
i can imagine it right now... all six committee members and i seated in a semi-circle formation, wearing black robes and lame curly blonde wigs that those idiots in the british parliament wear. then we'll have the accused right at the center with his hands tied with barbwires, his shirt all in shreds and his back bleeding, and his face all black and blue. he'll be crying like a baby in front of us mumbling some completely inaudible shit about not having to touch (and squeeze) women's breasts ever again. then he'll totally flip out and shout something like "i only needed milk for my coffee!!! can't an honest hardworking employee get milk for his coffee?! can't he?!"
then i'll say with a thundering voice that only james earl jones can do...
" silence! you, sir, are found guilty of 186 counts of sexual harassment. you are thereby sentenced to lifetime solitary confinement inside the betty boop rehabilitation facility otherwise known as the left bottom drawer of our vice president's office desk. there you will spend the rest of your life boxed in without food and sunlight with just the vice president's old pair of smelly tennis shoes and a cuddly betty boop doll!"
*graaash!!! booom!!!! ka-blam!!!!* (in case you're wondering, that's the sound of thunder, because i'll be sentencing people only on cold, stormy evenings, when conan o'brien's not on.)
he'll be kicking and screaming: "please, lord. not the betty boop! kill me now! not the betty boop!"
then i'll go... still with the james earl jones voice: "guards. take him away!"
*graaash!!! booom!!!! ka-blam!!!!* (yeah, it does sound more like pots and pans.)
"simba! simba!.... luke, i am your father.... this is CNN..." damnit, i love james earl jones!
okay, back to reality. the reason why i think i wouldn't do any work on this committee is all the ladies in the office are just plain ugly.
that's it. they're all just ugly.
and if you fornicate with, much less grope and harass any of them, then people here will just think you're on crack. that case would then be handled by the anti-drug and substance abuse committee. not me. sweet!
//i'm out.
No comments:
Post a Comment