Man, that whole Devil Wears Prada thing sure took off. Who woulda thunk that working folks, most of whom spend their days getting abused by a horrible boss, would then delight in watching someone get abused by a horrible boss. Regardless, I'm getting in on that shit:
"Hey fuckstick, ham and egg on a bagel!" barked Mr. Kneffield, the wispy hairs on his forehead already drooping sweatily toward his watery eyes. Junior Tire Associate Glen Biffle was both plucky and halfway out the door, hoping to sneak out to the loading dock for a moment of peace during his hectic shift at the air pump. But if he was at all interested in moving up at Tire Towne -- and of course, he had been dreaming if it since he was a boy -- he would have to grin, bear it, and return with Kneffield's order along with a pack of Marlboro Lights and a Jug Toucher magazine, even though he hadn't been asked.
Glen risked one glance back over his shoulder at The Greasy Diva, as all the guys called him, only to be assaulted with Kneffield's heartless salute... The Finger.
"I will not cry," Glen whispered to himself, whimpering slightly as he passed by the guys in the garage. "I won't let him make me cry!"
It was too late.
Shit, I've been there, and I think you have too. Anyway, where I'm aiming here is at the guys who were interested in Prada but were too homophobic or self-respecting to read or watch it.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
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