Sometimes when writing these forays I get a bit paranoid, cos if they fall into the wrong hands, it may be curtains for the catfish. When I used to write posts on the Yahoo, [ a forkin' company's message board that will remain nameless ] even tho' anonymous, I felt the same way. What if the CEO and COO read this shit I'm pumping out and deduce that v.c. and staid general manager of H.ell W.hole are one of the same? Curtains, eh?
Parodying those numbnuts gave me innate pleasures. When the new regime at my old digs began theorizing that we were a bunch of jerk-offs, [ people in the field ] and only they had the "right stuff" to turn things around, it made me ill.
The other day I was introduced to a woman who works in our corporate headquarters, by her underling in Human Resources; they were grabbing lunch at my store. I was laying some shtick on them and said we all had a symbiotic relationship.
"Huh? What does that mean," asked the lady from H.R.
"You know the little fishes that suction themselves onto sharks. Well, that's a symbiotic relationship. One cannot exist without the other," I said rather triumphantly.
The numbnut from corporate said-what else? "But I'm from corporate!"
Like corporate is an island unto itself? What arrogance! What stupidity! What a dickhead!
So when our illustrious think-tank at my old job came up with bone head promotions like the "smokeyard bbq" fiasco; terrormisu cake, er, tiramisu cake*; Italian dishes like "Meatballs Italiano;" etc. I didn't regret writing my forays into the infantile.
And I don't mind calling my new bosses dickheads when they trash most tenets of management 101.
Plus, fork 'em if they can't tell a joke.
In summary, symbiotic? Look it up in your funk and wagnolls. Apologies to Laugh-In.
P.S. Terrormisu cake was coined by my friend and confidante, ibbq4you2.
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