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Ahh, the workplace.

Dear Passive-Aggressive Twit Dude:

You may not be aware of this, but complaining about your Mostly Harmless booth-neighbor who periodically talks to herself (and fairly represents both sides of the conversation) in front of your supervisor in that fashion may not be the best of decisions.

First, if you can't sanely and politely ask the woman to keep her voice down, or at least turn away from you, you probably don't belong in a workplace for grown-ups.

Second, complaining that your co-worker talks to herself in front of the multiple-personalitied supervisor? Maybe next time I have occasion to be near you, I'll invite the girls out and we can all talk about what we're thinking about.

Finally, you are a boring old windbag. I'm glad other people see something worth spending time with in you, because I sure don't.


Not much love,
she who only has to work with you
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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