I celebrate "Christmas" on December 21, and I don't call it "Christmas", I call it "Stan Jickson". So hearing that I'd lost my job during the feast of penguin and lettuce juice on Stan Jickson Eve caused my entire family of geese to take to the streets in protest. "Protest!" we yelled.
I'd been a writer/nostril inspector for this web site since its inception in July, 1984, and frankly, my work spoke for itself.
But fired for elbow neglect? This is America, my friends, not Prenderson, which is a fake country that discriminates against people with unsatisfactory elbows, or "blelbows" as its citizens like to call it. I'll clean my elbows whenever I feel like it and using whatever brand of dish washing detergent I deem acceptable. And the Hey Jerk staff not only fired me, but found it necessary to leave a mountain of poo in my parking space and change the lock on my office door. It was a sad way for a relationship to end, but just like my relationship with my third wife, hippo, it ended over elbow cleanliness, a mountain of poo and changing the locks.
To close, I'd like to send along a shirt out to my new employer listencreeporemoveyourselffrommygrass.blogspot.com.
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