I did not sign up for this. Cleaning, pressing his clothes, garbage take out, that's what I'm coded for. He says he's a writer. Paces the floor. Wears suspenders. What I don't see is him writing.
Wilma wound up with an opera singer--at least she gets to hear music. I've only seen this guy in his underwear one time. Last week he hosted a session for his writer friends. What nonsense. Even robots know a mixed metaphor, a dangling particle, a run on sentence.
After each of them read, they stood and did the hokey pokey. Now this idiot is trying to teach me this stupid dance.
I need to contact my union rep. If he tries to tango with me I'll knee him in the groin.
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