“You don’t understand: she spreads better than you do, and besides that, I really like what she does with the crust . . . ”
[~]
Hey, wait . . .
~
That’s just plain sacrilege wrapped in blasphemy, heavily sprinkled with foul thinking, then submerged in horror and topped with double layers of atrocious suggestiveness. Grrrrrrr.
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This Aussie has figured out a way to sneak one of his shills in here to infiltrate Chez Randé! I have to log off now; I’m going to barf . . .
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IT’S. NOT. THE. SAME. THING!!!!!!! GRRRRRRRRRR.
~
Memo to HR at Randall D Randolph Incorporated: effective immediately, Livvie is OUT, and absolutely none of her ideas or projects are to move forward! Grrrrrrr.
Bring in that new set of those three applicants who went on vacation with me on the No-Tell Motel Junket and were then told to wait for a phone call to see if they would be brought into the fold. Now is the time.
~
The shuttle service you use to pick up new sandwich-making women called. They won’t be able to make anymore pickups. They’re going out of business due to increased costs. Sorry, Randy. It’s hard to keep a fleet of creepy vans on the road with the fuel prices being what they are these days. They hope you’ll understand.
Please don’t listen to Livvie, folks; none of what she suggests here is true.
I don’t send vans (creepy or not) to go pick up my detainees volunteers, I personally go and get them.
A panel of mental health specialists is working feverishly to find a cure for Livvie, but she resists all treatment measures. I believe Tasers are the next step.
~
Grrrrrrr. Padlocked doors mean nothing to you, I see. Grrrrrrr.
:(