Fuck Mondays With A pressure Treated 4X4

I hate Mondays with a seething, burning hatred that borders on the pathological. Weekends just can't last long enough. Why can't we be like the Europeans and have more time off? Cause we is A-merkins goddamnit! We must be productive and produce so we can spend and consume. Fuck that. I want to live in a commune. Preferably, one with lots of topless hippie chicks willing to go down like power windows. I wouldn't last long, though. One Phish song and I would punch someone.

Our dip-shit Russian intern was at it again today. That fucking Trotskyite turd-burgler just can't leave my stuff alone. I have a collection of important floppy disks on my desk that I found strewn all over my cube today. It's a good thing he was already gone when I got in. He's definitely avoiding me. You would too if you knew my shoe would be up your ass next time you saw me.