Miscommunication my ass, and Simon says!

 

 

The latest little skit from the Ultimate Supremo while sacking people more often than I would change underwear is all about miscommunication… According to her own wee warped mind. By god! If I was dictator, I wouldn’t let her run as much as a kinder garden!

And this blonde freak show is actually running an office with so called adults who most of the time is afraid of getting sacked!

Because as I hear, the job that they’re having is one of the best one on the island. That don’t help much when you’re scared shitless of some psycho who doesn’t even have the legal no how to do things right! Well, except for using a young punk lawyer as cannon fodder whom I wonder have even less legal knowledge than his pimp!

The first week, we had a communication coah living in South Africa. He came in just for us! To teach us about communication. And he was good. At east funny. Looking a bit like Johnny Rotten. Maybe he is secretly his brother. Well!  He must have failed miserably with Megan. She have sacked people with the escuse: It was about miscommunication!” Between who? Want to play the blame game here? Who’s fault is it? And who’ll be pointing the magic finger hiding behind the position he or she is in? Most people would bow down and walk out. Especially spineless people. So, there is no one special to blame here! But one has the power, and one is at the mercy of this power. Many people have been sacked feeling defenceless, finding themselves almost broke and out on the street. It’s because they let themselves be intimidated. And guilty! Or they just leave in anger, not giving a damn. Until they find some bastard the story, and this bastard knows how to write and carries the eternal chip on his shoulders.

Kari and Deniz both got sacked in the same day1 Both just two days after the Supremo got back from holidays. One week later, her psychosis came my way. And boy! That sort of inspired me to give the Company even more shit! They were using him as their running whore for their own agenda.

And now, after I edited my previous articles just a tad, I haven’t heard anything about any law suit in the 100 000 euro class. In fact, that would be the price they would have to pay for me not to smack down the whole dirty business of the betting industry. All it takes is the last two brain cells that are not drug induced or drowned in booze, and an ounce of journalistic curiosity.

Thomas Kalita has quit. Or did the Supremo sack him?

I guess no one will know. It’s sad really. He was the only one among the managers that actually seemed to be human.

Then again, I could understand him. Having to share the throne with Herman Goering in drag would not be easy.

I just hope they gave him a generous severance check, like he once gave me. And by God! I have had a lot of fun with the money! Booze, drugs, women, lap dancers and fine dining at the local kebab shop!

And Simon, the great communicator seems to have one student loosing the marbles! Simon says! Simon says a lot of BS! And his apprentice, incidentally his disciple does not really know what the hell he’s been talking about all along!

And yes!  The Queen was right in the first place! When she called me in February and told me I was over qualified! The thing is, that I needed the job, and needed to get the hell out of my country before I would rot away on roots!

I will share with something else! She’s never met anyone like me before! Neither have her young punk lawyer! I am not the kind of person whom anyone can bully around with and get away with it!

I kid you not!

Strider, June 2009

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