Sianara Ping Pong
I'll give you a couple of examples of what went on behind the scenes after I gave him full run of my site. First, he started refering to himself as "Genghis Pong: the oriental and improved Genghis Jon" On some occasions he described himself as "Genghis Jon dipped in soy sauce." Not that I don't appriciate sarcasm, but when he's returning emails (from my personal email account) from my grandmother with subject headings such as " Let me feed you my egg role, you hot grandmomma baby!"....it'd be irresponsible for me not to step in and do something.
Personnaly I can't believe he made that statement. "Genghis Jon dipped in soy sauce." When Mr Pong makes comments like that, he's being straight out racist, and offending gooks everywhere. I'm just not standing for that! I was forced to call the INS and drop a dime on him. He's presently on a plane back to God-knows-where. Let's just say I'm pretty sure he wasn't born in Brewton, Alabama.
In other news, there's this dude in a wheelchair at work that I call "Hot Wheels". H.W. is this Italian dude that rolls around here hitting on anything with two legs (no pun intended) I wish I could show you a picture of this guy. He's as funny as shit. He's got that whole gold chain, open button shirt thing going on. He even wheels his chair in a way that would be comparative to a macho swagger.
Anyway, I usually tend to be sympathetic towards our roller-friends. But you can't help but just want to push him down some stairs. Everytime he wheels by me he's gotta' say something like "I wanna bang that new broad" or whatever. I'm beyond tired of listening to his fantasies. I donated blood a few months ago, so I'm all set with feeling charitible for awhile.
So picture yourself in my shoes here. Evertime Sylvester rolls by, you have to listen to him babble about what he wants to do to who, and how he wants to do it. All the while knowing his chance of getting any is about the same as corpse. And even with the little "walking" thing that he lacks, his bravado is still humongous. He's asked me on more than one occasion about my own triumphs. He'll usually put it rather delicately, like "get any pussy this weekend?" I usually avoid the question. I tell him that he should try pornography if he's seeking mastabatory influence. He then mumbles "fuuuucck you" as he rolls away.
No FUCK YOU, you walkingless dick! If I took that chair away from you, you'd be flopping around like a fish out of water. So FUCK YOU!
Needless to say, he's a beyond a bad joke. Everybody here knows that he doesn't get laid yet likes to pretend that he does. Not only pretend, but he wants everybody else to feel ashamed for not having as much sex as he claims to. Seriously, what do you do with a guy like this? If this isn't a test from God, I don't know what is.
You got a good picture of him? OK, so today he comes rolling into work. The only thing was.....he wasn't doing the rolling. He was being pushed by a very, very, very hot Italian girl. He was doing his best not to bust out in an ear-to-ear smile. He went down every isle here showing off his prize. You should of seen the place, we're all in amazement. For about 20 minutes the entire company came to a halt as word got around to what was going on. People were coming in from all departments to check this shit out. You'd think Elvis stopped by. People were in utter shock. He'd say "Hey Jonny-boy. Say hello to my girl Crystral."
I couldn't even speak I was so stunned.
He went on "Jonny here is in a band."
She looked at me, and said with a smile "Really? Well you tell H.W. the next time you play and we'll come check you out."
He kissed her goodbye in front of 60 curious bystanders. Told her he'd call her later tonight to which she replied "you'd better!"
I focused back in on the crowd who were unable to breath.
After she left people were treating him as if he climbed Mt Everest. You know, when you think about it I guess he did. The sonofabitch climbed Mt Fucking Everest.