Tell me the truth... You're sick of the sight of me. I'm a reminder of what's coming. Maybe I'm being paranoid, but I wonder if the mention of my name isn't met with apprehension. I only come around when there's a particular type of bad news don't I? You've all had your fun the past 2 days, all relaxed and rested, happy even...then I arrive. Here to sharply jerk you back to reality. I am here to tell you to go back to work.
I wonder sometimes, can I be considered as the sole owner of my life? That song by Dr Alban, 'Its My Life', can I claim to relate to that? Or are things more comparable to Dido's Life For Rent? Because it does feel like I've somehow signed over the property rights to my existence to the bank. And in some twisted way, I am currently leasing my life back from them. It must have been something in the fine print. Some clause I didn't see while I signed the document. I guess I should have been smarter though, I should have smelled something wrong when I was instructed to go home and manufacture the ink I was going to use to sign. Its a very simple solution however, only 3 ingredients are needed for this very special ink. My blood, sweat and tears. Very dark, I know. Womilee in goth mode.
Goddammit, its Monday gentlefolk. What can we do but accept it and immediately start counting down to friday again. Its the only way to keep sane. But do not be frightened though, don't let gidi scare you. She can't do shit. Yeah she can upset you, she can frustrate you. Fuck it, she can and probably will take your money. And yes, in a really bad situation, she can have you killed... I just had a re-thought, please ignore the advice I originally gave... Be afraid, be very afraid. This gidi bitch don't play! She's the boss. Your organisation answers to her. She adopted your organisation. She takes care of it, it does her bidding. She's runs the mob, your company is her conseigliere. She's Don Corleone, your company is Tom Hagen. So be careful when you look her in the eye, watch your fucking mouth when you address the don. But there is hope, I think there is a way out. It just requires courage, strength and big fucking balls. Even the meanest bitch can be conquered just read Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew.
You can fuck her. Fuck her good, fuck her hard. Infact, I should try and do this for myself, lord knows it'll be the most action I've had in a while. So gentlefolk, this week, let's not allow gidi win. We'll say hey, we'll sweet talk her, get her to have a couple drinks with us, see things our way. And just when she's thinking "okay, maybe this isn't so bad..." We'll bend the bitch over and fuck her. Then video tape it and send a copy to our various organisations, with a note attached, "You're next!"
I hope you all did good this weekend. I am feeling much better myself, thank you all for the goodwill messages. We'll chat tonight then.
Goddamit, I am Womilee.