“Let’s get it catered.”
“Oh yes, lets.” Fast tiny claps of the hand in front of their chests.
I see them, chatting away, all the fucken time in the world, like the day is never going to end. I tell you, I wish I had half of their fucken work schedules.
If you took away half the fucken meetings half of them wouldn’t have anything to fucken do. We could operate with half the fucken staff, I am fucken sure of that.
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