Congratulations to Julie Hart, our ex-employee of the month! Great job cleaning out your desk and keeping the tears to a minimum, Julie! Special thanks this week go to: Don "Motorcycle" Jolly, Dennis "Corin Tucker's Stalker" Farrell, and Jason "Vengeance Otter" Johnson.
Why We Will Not Repeat The Disaster That Was "Take Your Daughter To Work Day"
I am serious about this one, guys. Last Friday was a huge fiasco. Don’t go blaming me for canceling it in the future – you made your bed, and now you have to lie in it. Blame yourselves, team. Your behavior was atrocious.
First of all, Johnson, your little hellion shouldn’t have even been here. The initial announcement made it very clear that adopted kids “don’t count.” If you had just followed the goddamn directions, like you were supposed to, then those pictures never would have been taken and Peterson would still be a happily married man.
Not that Peterson is a victim, here. Far from it.
Peterson, I know that you’re aware of lab protocols. You work there, for god’s sake. You follow them everyday. Hell, I remember when you printed out the very safety sign you would later so flagrantly ignore : “The Orgasm Induction Gun is Not A Toy.” If you really believed that, why did you let your little brat play with it, Peterson? Why did you do that? I cry at night, Peterson. I cry because of what your girl did.
The rest of you aren’t off the hook. Jenkins, what you did was absolutely disgusting and did nothing but disrupt a workplace environment that was already in shambles because of Peterson’s and Johnson’s little mouth breathers. I’m very sorry that your wife had a miscarriage. I was even sorrier when she had the second one, and Jesus, did I feel it by the third. But don’t bring them to work. Don’t set them up next to the coffee maker. I don’t care if they’re vacuum packed. It’s disgusting. And, besides, they were too early in development to be distinctly female. It’s take your “daughter” to work day, Jenkins – not “set up three old, rotten abortions in personalized knit caps and booties by the coffee machine” day.
Gibbons, you were the worst. Bringing your daughter in that outfit. That outfit that just screamed out “I’m a dirty girl, Mr. Phelps, please punish me.” It was a traditional bait and switch – and, I’m sad to say, I fell right for it. You must think you’re pretty smart, Gibbons. Making those things happen. Making my wife leave me. Pretty smart, you piece of shit.
But I’m waiting, Gibbons. Every night. I’m waiting in the darkness outside your house – you know that little greenbelt across the street, with the trees that twist and gnarl like the intestines of the Earth? There, Gibbons. I’m waiting there. And one day, when you least expect it, I am going to break into your house and stab your wife. And then I’ll stab you. And I’ll tie you up and make me watch as I do things to your daughter. Terrible things, Gibbons. Unspeakable things. And I’ll shoot you with the gun. The Orgasm Induction Gun. And you won’t be able to help it, climaxing again and again as you bleed to death – unable to look away from me using your daughter as a combination between a Backhoe and a Fleshlight.
So, yeah. We will not be having another take your daughter to work day. I’m sorry, but there’s really nothing I can do. It is my duty, as a responsible manager, to prevent this kind of disruption in the work environment. I hope we can all learn a lesson from this and move on with our lives.
Just a quick note : next Friday has been slated as “Hawaiian Shirt Day.” Be sure to come out and say “aloha!”
State Og Branch #543
Miles Beneath Akron, Ohio
Despite our best efforts, State Og is not necessarily known to many as a charitable organization that cares about the community or at the very least tries its best not to poison the general population. We think that image is about to change for the better.
This week we're launching the "Yo Momma So Fat Joke Books For Seniors" drive, a concentrated effort to collect Yo Momma So Fat joke books and put them in the hands of people who so desperately need them. Right now, over three million seniors go without the ability to tell even the most basic of Yo Momma So Fat jokes as otherwise good men and women turn a blind eye to their suffering. Only you can stop the madness!
Take as many Yo Momma So Fat joke books as you can spare to any Victoria's Secret store in the metropolitan area, then look for a dropoff box that has been carefully crafted and painted to look like another dropoff box. Approach the dropoff box, then slowly take three paces backwards and close your eyes as you count to thirty. While your eyes are closed one of our agents will take the books from your hands and make a rude gesture or face at you which will vary depending on the volume, quality, and condition of the books you bring. I know you're thinking that helping the unfortunate is reward enough, but we wanted to take that extra step just to show you our appreciation.
We thank you in advance for your donations, and depending on the success of this drive we might go ahead with our planned "Yo Momma So Stupid Joke Books For The Homeless And Starving" drive.
Attention All State Og Headquarters Employees:
We’ve just learned that our boss, Dennis “Corin Tucker’s janitor’s hamster’s scab licker” Farrell, will make a surprise inspection this afternoon at the company’s main campus, so make sure you’ve got your head in the game today, have your best smile on, and do your best to make Farrell welcome. Since many of you were “hired" for State Og by our roaming pressgangs and were either whisked away one night while passed out and sprawled on the restroom floor of some dive-bar or beaten into unconsciousness as you walked about town, it’s understandable that you may not remember the orientation video shown to you in the windowless van as the pressgang stole you away from the life you once knew.
Since the orientation video contains important information to make interaction with the boss go smoother, we wanted to show it again to all our employees in the auditorium this morning, but it turns out that the pressgangs taped over all the copies of the orientation video filming some of the stuff they did to you guys while you were unconscious. Sadly, nobody among us in management can remember exactly what important lessons the video taught employees, though we understand that failure to learn them could mean something bad happening to you involving a specially trained ferret and a Mig-15. But fret not, we’ve got a back up plan to make sure Mr. Farrell is impressed with the job we do for his company.
You may have already noticed that in the middle of every cubicle a pole has been installed. Please use the pole as you dance for Farrell’s pleasure when he walks by. Obviously, this will impact your job’s normal duties very little since we in middle management expect you dance for us in such a way, except of course you now have a pole and a busy man like Dennis Farrell probably doesn’t have the time to dry hump you for hours on end, like we do. Nonetheless, we still expect you to perform with a smile and our cut of any dollar bills he leaves on your desk.
Well, you’re now on your own. We in management wish you the best of luck as we flee to our hidden bunker to watch those videos the pressgangs made. We’ll be back tomorrow and I, for one, can’t wait to hear all the juicy details of what happens.
Love and kisses,
Simply put, if I had Johnny Manziel’s physical gifts, you better believe I would be there in the Weight Room, getting to bed early, doing whatever I had to do to be the best possible athlete I could be. I wouldn't be posting on social media about sucking titties. I wouldn't even look at a titty, buddy. I'd look at a titty and see two big footballs.
A real friend doesn't move until the middle of August, ensuring temperatures in the 90s and a humidity that turns boxers into moist balls of ruined cotton.
Expendable? You must be joking.
State Og... what is it? Who knows! Where do they operate? No clue! All we know is they're fairly evil, and nobody dares question the might of State Og!