What? The Shit-on-My-Arms-Again Excuse Wouldn't Have been Better?!?

The following was slipped under the door of a Cow-orker that oversees a department of four folk.


That's DIARRHEA, Sluice Ass.


The slip-ee has been warned in the past that he needs to call in or e-mail her when he is not going to make it in.

With a raging case of of ALLEGED DIARRHEA, he got dressed, got in his car, squirted into work and left THIS laughable asscuse under his superior's door (it should be noted that he was not scheduled to be in until 9 AM. I arrived at 7 AM and the his Boss did not arrive until 7:30 AM; in other words, he made damn sure he was in WELL before anyone else and did not need to actually see/talk to any cow-orkers...unless--and that's a HUGE IF--he truly had the Brown Water Gouts and was afraid to frighten any cow-orkers he'd encounter if he HAD come in as scheduled).

This...THIS is from a fellow that'll be 29 this month.

What.
The.
Fuck?!?

I have now christened him Phantom Diarrhea and shall address him as such until the time (shortly?) he is shit-canned from his place of employment.

T