May 25, 2005

A Personal Letter Addressed To:

Dear Office Cleaning Man,

I see you, YES YOU. I know that you come in here twice in the evening and people even say you are around here in the morning. I would not know because at those uncivilized hours I am still trying to bunny hop someone in my dreams. But I know this to be fact because after you leave I put more garbage in my bin, cause woooo hooooo- I AM STILL HERE, and it is gone in the morning. More importantly I know this because things move on my desk. Sure I believe (well kinda) in some form of supernatural (vague that up a bit more please…) but them they have a life, they do not move my phone so that it traps my keyboard and mouse cords thus making me twitch in the morning. If they did that they would want to be here and watch my ass twitch. NO I KNOW it is you.

I also know you are a thief. That is right I am calling you a THIEF! You have been stealing my empty water bottles. The ones (as in three of them alone this week) with no lids that I use to get refills from the cold water tap they have here at work. This… THIS is NOT funny anymore. HINT HINT, if I am repeatedly leaving one there it is because I WANT IT. I am TRYING to loose some weight here. I know I require a hard helmet, elbow, knee and wrist protectors before I am allowed onto the short bus, and I know it seems counter intuituive that I, feeling like a water retaining seacow and wanting to loose what I hope is water weight would drink more water but that is what my fancy schmancy certification by the Murkin Sports Medical Clique told me, so I am trying to combine that Snickers breakfast with water to be all healthy and shit.

So this little game you are playing, it is TOTALLY screwing with my vibe. I know you must think that this is something funny, but it is not. I say this on authority as as an ex-pat living abroad I can tell you with certainty that I entertain astonishingly easily. Trust me THIS, it is as hilarious as making me; the one with a no notice, squat on a toilet or not... bladder that stores like a camel, perform the patented "I got to go pee-pee, Yeah you know me" dance for my colleagues while waiting for an elevator to take me down 20 floors to get to a toilet; since you want me to listen to a symphony of JACKHAMMERS "fixing" ours and the 5 floors above and below us, that I can access, toilets AT THE SAME FUCKING TIME FOR THE WHOLE DAMN WEEK. Therefore I kindly request that you STOP IT NOW, as I am not entertained in the least by you fucking up my mornings like this. This is your last warning, no more of this polite Bonne Soirée crap. Steal another one and I will have to hurt you. And by that I dont mean maim I mean mutilate. Seriously one more time and I will lop of your hand, and go all consular on your ass or something.

Bien Cordialement,

Posted by Stinkerbell at May 25, 2005 12:19 PM | TrackBack