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cash money prose

cash money prose

Despite my frequent hostile outbursts in the office, my insistence on using foul-mouthed language and my total abuse of the kindness of my bosses, they have bestowed upon me a Christmas gift. It came in the form of cold, hard cash, double what they gave me last year, and suffice it to say it is more than enough to buy the zoom lens I've been craving and have enough left over to put towards a macro lens.

I am feeling very appreciated.

And as if this day wasn't smile-inducing enough, I have had a poem written about me. D has clearly managed to capture my inner soul and classy qualities. Or have I read too much into those lines?

Comments

I think the deeper meaning and emotion I was trying to convey, for those to whom the intricacies of language and verse might be somewhat obfuscated, was...

...that deep down inside you're just a tart?

YOU HAVE BEEN HUGGED BY THE CHRISTMAS MONSTER! GO TO OTHER BLOGS AND PASS ON THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT!

YOU HAVE BEEN HUGGED BY THE CHRISTMAS MONSTER! GO TO OTHER BLOGS AND PASS ON THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT!

Sorry, Elizabeth. I thought that was a terrorist and I shot him.

We received a small, green, foam dollar sign printed with the company logo. The accompaning card said it was to remind us to "squeeze every dollar."

Was the Christmas Monster running naked by any chance?

I now know all the people worth knowing in America, and I find no intellect comparable to my own. by poker chips