In which past managers don’t seem so bad anymore
My social media statuses are set to: “My bologna has a first name, a middle name, a last name, and an address I’d like to bomb.”
The Wicked Witch canned my designer and told me to stop working with everyone else and to just keep playing nice on my own, by myself.
For further insult, she said she’s pleased to offer me a chance to stay on at my current rate.
She can kiss my ever-growing pudgy pork roast ass, die in a fire and lick me where I pee.
And she can read this timely article on why everyone has the right to competent management.