Please fire me. Today at work I was reprimanded for speaking in Spanish. I’m the company translator.
Flower crowns. Studded things. Lots of lace. Nicotine. Leather. Alice in Wonderland. Red lips. Cat eyed frames.
When women scream you wonder what’s wrong with them. When men yell you get afraid about what they’re going to do.
Please fire me. My company is disgustingly sexist, but tries to disguise it as chivalry. Our head of sales wanted to use more “descriptive words” but decided not to because there was “a lady in the room.”
Motherfucker, I have the dirtiest mouth of anyone in here, and I’m also the oldest. Don’t talk down like I’m a child and hide it because you’re a “gentleman.”
Please fire me. I was out with the flu. The next day my boss called me into his office. While he was eating his third bag of gummy bears and swigging directly from a 2-liter bottle of Dr. Pepper, he informed me that he wouldn’t approve my sick time. ”It’s your own fault you get sick. You don’t eat healthy like I do.”