Thank you for considering me for this promotion. As you know, every dollar added to my salary means one more day for my terminally ill son, Wilbur. Poor Wilbur. Heroically though, I must admit that my colleagues are almost as qualified as I am.
Take Dan Jacobs, for instance-hardest worker in the company. Guy gets a DWI on the way home from work last Tuesday and still makes it to work on Wednesday. And Denise from accounting collects child support from every single one of the various fathers of her many, many racially diverse children. Can you say "accounts receivable?!" She can, provided she' not performing a sex act on one of the temps in the bathroom at the Christmas party last year.
Which temp, you ask? The one young enough to be your or my son. That is, if my son makes it to his next birthday.
Sometimes the stories after the stories are even stranger.
For as much as people love them, the 'Star Wars' movies have gotten rather awkward from time to time.
Bawitdaba, pass the green beans.
Going for that 16th minute.