Gore says he reads it but doesnt. Dubya reads it but denies it.
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The nasty old lady who was the VP of H.R. lady seemed to already know I was coming. She bent over like an old crone fillin up some cup with this pissy smelling chamomeal tea or some such and snapped at me, "There you are! Youre late and weve been in this meeting waitin for you!"
I did not know what the hell she was talkin about. The door of her office swung open and there sittin at the little table in her office were the four othor workstation support people beside me who work at Cyberblop. I am the only one by the way who actualy does HTML coding for clients. Yes, I work TWO jobs at this crappy place and I am payed the lowest.
There was anothor person in the meeting as well, this guy with a bad combover and out-of-date tinted aviator glasses wearin a loud plaid sports jackat and shiny grey pollyester pants with allot of those small pollyestor fuzzballs that occur on varrious synthetic fabrics from overwearing and underwashing that look like nit eggs all on the seat and crotch. He looked like some sort of late '70s used car salesman; actualy, he looked sort of like the same generic type of tornado eyewitness I see over and over agian on the local news station, the guy who owns a cinder-block pornographey store out on the interstate where no one lives that just got destroyed in a danm twister and now he's blubboring and cryin to the news cameras cause he dosent have no insurance.
The whole place was silent and everyone looked sad exept the guy in the tacky clothes. I said "What is this meeting about?" and the H.R. lady said (in a mean, nasty tone), "Its about the Rent-A-Temp-Gal(tm) acount."
Well I sure as hell was in no mood to hear about THAT, but aftor this meeting I was more upset and pissed than coud be imagined.
Since we didnt have no money, five of us Cyberblop people were being "sold off" to the danm client. It is more embarasing than being, like, a baseball player who instead of bein sent down to the minors is traded to another team in exchange for some friggin new tires for the team bus..
By the way Cyberblop no longer uses the words "assignment" and "deadline." The new words that take there place are the more trendey but vague terms "Milestone" and "Deliverrable." I keep gettin the two of them confused.
"Hi, newly-hired hirees," gushed the new guy in the cheap plaid jackat, "My name is Wally, and I'm your Rent-A-Temp-Gal(tm) Field manager. Two of you are NOT gals, I notice...OH! and there's another 'Wally' in the group, how nice..."
The stuppid idiot yapped on and on. Well anyway like I said there were five of us tech suport employees being converted, and all of us were suposed to sign these forms that efectively said we were resigning from Cyberblop to work for Rent-A-Temp-Gal(tm) in exactly one week.
Four of them just got up and quit on the spot. Yes the economey is doing well and they all took their chances that they will get othor jobs.
I left her office and there in the waiting area of H.R. was Igor, who is a programmor. He was colappsed in a chair weeping and moaning. Standing above beside him with his arms folded was Peaches who had this evil smirk on his face.
Igor is one of these brillient immagrant programmers from a former Eastern Block country, but somehow him and Peaches never hit it off. Right now Peaches was gettin Igor reprimanded for Inappropriate Workplace Behavoir.
"Upgrade mammaries," Igor wailed in his thick Slavic acent, as his big bearded bearlike body heaved from giant sobs, "What is crime in telling woman she must do this? Boo hoo hoo!"