I was climbing out of the window of an old building last night trying to make a fast getaway from a bunch of douchebags getting all up in my mug about non-sense. When I got halfway out my legs got stuck behind the radiator leaving me hanging there like a jerk. I tried as hard as I could to pull free, I clutched the curb with my fingers trying to get a grip to create a little leverage but it didn't work because the problem was that the building wasn't anchored to the ground making it so that every time I tugged on my legs the building would move. Made it kinda like trying to take a sock off your foot without touching it. No amount of flailing would work cuz of the stupid wobbly building. Finally an old mexican woman with three cats on a leashes came by and I asked her to hold the building still. She did, and I was on my way to my new company.
What company you might ask. Well it's my new fantastic company that is all about people, you know PEOPLE, it's a people company, lots of people everywhere doin things for all the other people everywhere else, just people doing peopley things which is really the perfect type of company for a guy like me to have because I'm such a people person. I was telling stories about people and demonstrating my over all peopleness and basically being of, by, and for the people. I really feel good about this new company. So good in fact that I gave every single person in the company a glass cube with an exact 1/5th scale likeness of their own head floating inside. The eyes blinked and everything. I love people because I FIT IN.
Later at the company play there was much confusion over the three FEET costumes we ordered. One of the feet was obviously black and nobody remembered ordering a negro foot because we don't even have any black people in the company, not that we purposely didn't hire any black people, I just don't think any black people applied for a job. Anyway, everyone was worried that if they wore the black Foot costume that A) black people would get all pissed and B) Native Americans from the Blackfoot tribe would get their loin cloths in a bunch about it. Naturally I took charge and wore the costume myself only I added a 7-11 name tag just so if anyone asked I could say I'm a Black Foot Indian so that C) Regular indians could get all shrieky about it too.
Anyway, nobody was offended by the costume. People are tougher than you fuckers give them credit for.
BTW I ended that sentence with a preposition because that's the very type of arcane grammar rule up with which I can not put.
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