I'M EVEN SCHOOLING SENIORS

For all his faults, Stephen Chumby sure doesn't dick about when it comes to turn-around time. Check this.

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Dear IOYC

RE: FW:

Thanks for your letter of even date. I have processed all the information therein.

Unfortunately I cannot grant you an Employment; no fucking way bro. Remember what happened last time I was your Line Manager - it almost cost me my career.

In brief:

1. You and Derek Fan sent out a package of documents to our biggest client and marked the envelope 'Dear Cock Blankets'. Upon opening said envelope our biggest client found only 300 copies of a single photocopied sheet reading 'I <3 YOU'. I don't think Fan was behind this - he's a good guy just a little lost in the world. I think you were behind it. I REALLY THINK THAT.

2. A pretty huge deal was going down and I gave you full responsibility for compiling the final piece (of the deal). Upon entering your Office at 11:59 pm with Closure due on the stroke of Midnight I discover you playing Tetris to a very advanced stage. Fair enough I was fucking mesmerised by the sheer speed with which the Tetris shapes descended that screen. They were a blur. It was actually beautiful.

2a. The point is I gave you that responsibility.

2b. You shirked it.

In summary please don't ever try to contact me again however McLimits sends his regards, specifically he wanted me to tell you 'Hey what the fuck's up IOYC!! Shit yeah cuz! Been a while has it fuck!!'.

With Warm Regards,

Stephen R. Chumby
Line Manager

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'Plenty to think about'

NO INTRODUCTION NEEDED

Dear Stephen Chumby,

RE: A LETTER

This correspondence finds me in a pensive mood, just chilling out looking through a Window with a faraway gaze at what is going on outside. Coincidentally my window looks onto 400 Televisions.

What has been happening lately well I enrolled in a powerful course of empowerment, boosting the fuck out of my shit. My resume actually looks like a framed version of the Nobel Prize. The trouble is that now my skill set is simply too great. I'll be given a problem, and solve it practically within milliseconds, pissing off my co-workers who are just trying to go about their day putting food on the table. Even old Alan O'Mallon, who used to be my staunchest ally, is giving me shit looks out the corner of his eye.

I suppose I will have to find new Employment, Chumby, and that is why I write to you now. Also just to see how it is going, did anything ever eventuate with that Periscope you were building in your house; as I recall there were some design difficulties, you designed it upside down, I tried to tell you using the gentlest possible terms and you advised and I quote "hey buddy, hey look, if you only want to fuck up my Periscope you can get out of my Home right now the door is just past my Crying Wife saying 'you've ruined everything' and then the next left".

So anyway about that Employment also pls say hello to McLimits and Derek Fan (do you still see those guys).

Yours sincerely,

HARD TO GRASP LIKE SCIENCE AND MATH IS

INT. COURT OF KING LOUIS XXXIVLMC

A Kingly Court full of so much Intrigue, to-ing, fro-ing / sycophancy, witticisms and so forth.

Lord Pompidour arrives on an amazing resplendent pony. It's almost laughable how fucking resplendent this dude is. He means business. Tossing off a curl over his shoulder he spies none other than arch-nemesis THE SINISTER BARON DU CRESPINY. That Baron of dark renown is talking to His Royal Highness, the Dauphin.

Lord Pompidour: (to hisself) Oh, there's that Du Crespiny - I'll give him a spray.

(brightly) Hullo my dear Dauphin! I bring news regarding His Highness the Duke of Bangleberry.


The Dauphin turns super slowly, really rubbing it in.

The Dauphin: O RLY?

Baron Du Crespiny: That is like so last year.

Assembled courtiers titter and wave fans politely and shit.

The Dauphin: (brightly) Ho hoho.

Lord Pompidour: I see my Lord. PERHAPS THE BARON DU CRESPINY WOULD LIKE TO GO OUTSIDE FOR A REALLY FUCKING BIG DUEL RIGHT ABOUT NOW.

The room falls silent. You could hear a bear shit in the nearby woods.

Baron Du Crespiny: Did you just step to me bro?

Assembled courtiers do whispering behind fans.

Lord Pompidour: I will devastate you lyrically.

HANGING FOR THE CLIFFSIDE DRIP-DRY

ATTN: Readers of Poems

I made three Poems.

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Hologram Dave

In a Cave lived Hologram Dave
Pretty pixelated dude,
'Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi'
Everyone said it to him all the time
Plus like throwing shit through him or turning off his Hologram Machine
Hence his recourse to a reclusive lifestyle
What a Knob

Sneaky Steve

Sneaky Steve had two left sleeves
On his favourite knitted top
When asked why
He'd simply sigh
And say 'My Granny is fucked in the head and it's affected our whole family'

Fancy Carol

Fancy Carol and her husband Darryl were very delightful folk
Oft be found lounging around sharing a witty joke
A really Great Lady

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I'll probably drop this shit at a Recital sooner rather than later.

SEPTEMBER: THE NEW CRUELEST MONTH?

So I just upgraded the Security levels at my Dwelling. It was on advice from some really sweet Policy Mandarins I employed in the last six months. This shit sounds great, no more worries about enroachments in this volatile region, just leave cash and gems scattered around everywhere, do whatever the hell I feel like basically.

WRONG!

Things have gone too far, it is not feasible for me to enter my own house. Why the fuck did I choose an 85 digit alarm combination? Rain Man would fuck up on that shit. Plus all these massive Boobie-Traps, Laserbeams &c.

So now this is summarising my situation:

1. Stuck outside Dwelling
2. Laundry becoming a problem ('Hey dry cleaner, do you have a nude facility so I can wash MY CURRENT OUTFIT')
3. Minimal access to cash and gems, food
4. Can't say daily phrases like 'Just Going Downtown' or 'Let's Go Inside'

The worst part is the dude that installed the Security is on hols, 'Gone Fishin' or whatever taking a much needed break. Understandable I suppose he does work super hard and has a young family. But still, fuck his unprofessional approach!

If I had access to cash and gems I would pay to 'send him a little message' (eg: Postcard).





'This is why I'm hot'