Off Base
11-02-06, 04:55 PM
Dear peons,
I’ve been severely wrong. Now my tears are bleaching the reeds etching the deeds I speak upon. My feelings gone as I’m reeling from the decreed heat of long. Can it be, that everything’s collapsed? I knew my needs had lapsed, strippers greeted my lap as my wife was calling me after teaching to brats, eager to be where I’m at. I was cheating in fact with a mistress who loved eating the sack like she needed a snack. And then I freakishly snapped.
See, it was a fact that I pushed the company to new heights. It rushed to accompany the due spikes. A new life: earnings doubled, tripled and money bubbled and trickled, popping our pockets like pimples. The dockets’ causing me pickled. We secretly huddled—our reasoning jumbled—that we needed to increase compensation for our measly troubles. It was easily bungled. The board backdated options, which I held in the black, daily watching and playing opossum until they grazed the top end.
We all struck too quick and it was like a truck that hit the Fed building saying “you ****ing dicks.” It drew too much attention so they perused every mention of how we abused our spending. Summoned to court, the cues were deadening leaving us bruised and fending. The mood was deafening as we were foolishly defending. This went to a due ending, 5 years in a country club jail. I’m out of the country on bail and after appeal, I’ll never be serving. Until then, I’m living better in a turban as I pedal the metal of my Suburban defending against insurgents. I’ll render this urgent: all your jobs are gone, now we’re bankrupt. You can say our plot was wrong, but you’d do the same if you came up.
Good luck,
The CEO.
I’ve been severely wrong. Now my tears are bleaching the reeds etching the deeds I speak upon. My feelings gone as I’m reeling from the decreed heat of long. Can it be, that everything’s collapsed? I knew my needs had lapsed, strippers greeted my lap as my wife was calling me after teaching to brats, eager to be where I’m at. I was cheating in fact with a mistress who loved eating the sack like she needed a snack. And then I freakishly snapped.
See, it was a fact that I pushed the company to new heights. It rushed to accompany the due spikes. A new life: earnings doubled, tripled and money bubbled and trickled, popping our pockets like pimples. The dockets’ causing me pickled. We secretly huddled—our reasoning jumbled—that we needed to increase compensation for our measly troubles. It was easily bungled. The board backdated options, which I held in the black, daily watching and playing opossum until they grazed the top end.
We all struck too quick and it was like a truck that hit the Fed building saying “you ****ing dicks.” It drew too much attention so they perused every mention of how we abused our spending. Summoned to court, the cues were deadening leaving us bruised and fending. The mood was deafening as we were foolishly defending. This went to a due ending, 5 years in a country club jail. I’m out of the country on bail and after appeal, I’ll never be serving. Until then, I’m living better in a turban as I pedal the metal of my Suburban defending against insurgents. I’ll render this urgent: all your jobs are gone, now we’re bankrupt. You can say our plot was wrong, but you’d do the same if you came up.
Good luck,
The CEO.