*SCREAMS BLOOODY MURDER*

at the beech fm my account!

See, there's an editors away program that i'm handling at this very sad, depressing moment. There's not much to do, and me and my manager have decided to make this a relaxing retreat for them.

However, that stupid bitch from TA feels that 'NooOOoooOooo.... must make full use of that fucking money we're forking out. Takkan pay to help them relax meh?'

HALO. Excuuuuse me. These are EDITORS. Chief Editors. Executive *fucking screams murder* editors. Who are YOU to treat them like children? Remember, old spinster, that WE are at their mercy, not the other way around.

They are E-D-I-T-O-R-S, ok, they hold absolute power as to how many articles to come out, and how long it shall be. Who are you, BEEEECH, to think that you can make them like you more, and come out with more articles for your fucking company?!!?!

And, here, i am... sitting on this f**king desk. No manager, No Partner... NO ONE. Nada. i'm all alone, because everyone is in Nor-FUCKING-Way having a holiday of their lives. While i live in Hell just dreading each email and call that comes through. Hoping i won't get fucked by her.

No wonder no one wants you, bitch. You're the biggest most, insufferable woman i have ever met my entire life. Not to mention the worst dressed. And you, wearing that Fluorescent GREEN top and cheap stainless steel earrings can wallow in your f**king self pity wondering forever n ever why you're still f**king alone.

This is a vicious post. i know. screw it.