You are a fucking asshole and I hate you. I didn't want to hate you, I really wanted to give you a chance. But you are fucking clueless and either gay or evil - I'm not sure which yet. I did some top notch jobs for you and organized your entire fucking business financial history and you tell me you can't fucking find the Sales Receipt folder? It's under the file marked, "Sales Receipts" - Jesus! What a dick I am for organizing the sales receipts and putting them in separate folders like that! How dare I not leave them lying on the middle of the floor next to two dead cockroaches and a pile of gecko shit where you had them before! What was I thinking??
And unprofessional! Yes how professional am I! To get back to you a day later to tell you I quit after you left me a message. When I'm pretty sure that was 1 of 3 voice messages you've ever left me ever! You never call me, never message me, never tell me what you need done after the countless times I've called you, texted you, facebooked you, left you notes at home, etc. And unreliable! Yes I am so fucking unreliable because I'm quitting. At least by quitting, I know I won't have to worry about whether or not you'll actually be able to pay me this week! You can't even pay your fucking workers, how are you going to expand your business? With all of the magical hippie people you parade into your door night after night? The same hippies you offer to live in your house a day after you meet them? Your house! Your fucking one and a half room house complete with a cockroach and gecko shit collections! How lucky am I to scrub the organic hippie shit mixture from your rotting warped pans that I"m going to dry and stack up on the counter only for them to be shit on by ten thousand geckos the next time I come by!
I will go tomorrow. I will clean your shit and organize your corner. I will teach you how to do a Craiglist ad and not laugh at you for not knowing how to do a Craiglist ad. But if you say one.fucking.thing. about me, my husband or anyone else in my fucking family, I am going to just go for it and punch you as hard as I can in the face. I don't know if it will even hurt - I'm not a very good puncher, but I'm sure if I throw in a couple elbows after, you'll get the point.
And then after that I can say "fuck you" and never have to set foot in your mosquito-infested house ever again, motherfucker.
Die.
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