Christ, This Floor Is Sticky

Did you ever feel like driving a nail right into your temple? For two days, I’ve been fighting off such notions.

Sitting in a windowless room, with fucking middle-management morons, has been driving me completely freakin’ nuts!

Godalmighty, the inane drivel that comes out of goddamn suburban jerks is frightening. They don’t really say anything of consequence; however, they are fluent in business-bestseller-speak like “out of the box,” “empower” and “champion”.

“Champion”? Who the hell came up with this bullshit?

I guess my Mom “championed” eating all your vegetables when I was a kid. Osama Bin Laden is a “champion” as was Hitler.

Do you have a “strategic plan”? We all need strategic plans. How about a “mission statement”? I haven’t had a personal “mission statement” since I was sixteen and that was to fuck any girl that would have me. We have people who aren’t capable of watering plants designing “mission statements” because some bald huckster told them to do so.

Forget hate speech; we need to stop the mind-numbing bullshit that comes from big, fat slobs like Tom Peters and gets stuck in the minds of fucking idiots in ugly ties, who if they weren’t white and middle class, wouldn’t be given positions as mop-up men at a peep show.

That’s what’s ruining this country: mother-fucking idiot consultants who have never created anything worthwhile themselves brain-washing those who can’t create anything into believing that using phrases will allow them to be another Leonardo DiVinci or Donald-fucking-Trump.

Jesus, pass the Kool-Aid. I’m thirsty.

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