Job Recommendation...

From: David

To: Alexis

Subject: Can I ask you for a favor?

…I wanted to get you to write a recommendation for me.

Could I get you to write a short paragraph about me and what Ive done here at the firm? If you agree to do this you may not use the words “assless chaps, moobs or McRib Sandwich”.

From: Alexis

To: David

Subject: Can I ask you for a favor?

To whom it may concern:

Having had the privilege of working with David “Gayvid” Marchisotto for 4+ years, I can say – without hesitation – that he is the hairiest motherfucker on the planet. I fully endorse his candidacy for chief back/sack/crack waxer at the new Dashing Diva Nail Salon in Trenton.

Pretty much what you had in mind?

From: David
To: Alexis
Subject: Thanks...

Since you were so very helpful, I thought I would pro-actively write a recommendation for you while it was fresh in my head. In case you need it…

To Whoever Give a Fuck,

Alexis is utterly obsessed with YouTube and its varied collections of Tom Selleck fan tributes. Prone to Tourettes-like fits of cursing and random twitches, she manages to get as much as two hours of work done per day, which is an achievement as she staggers in around 11:00am, takes a 2 hour “lunch” (male escort massage) and leaves at 2:45.

While not officially diagnosed as a sex fiend and borderline alcoholic self-molester, it’s only because doctors cannot agree on how to classify her in the many papers written on her multiple conditions.

She may not work hard, make an attempt to be punctual or even try to appear interested in her projects, but you can certainly count on her to at least shower 2 to 3 times per week.

Some of her skills include using a computer mouse, spelling words with less than 2 syllables, remembering which way her underwear should face when dressing and of course writing some of the best Tom Selleck FanFic you’ll ever have the misfortune of reading. Here is a sample:

“The fireplace crackled even though this is Hawaii and it’s like hot and stuff. Higgins waited in the doorway, oiled, ready to pounce. His stunningly thin greasy mustache an otherwise perfect slalom run down a face of ordinary features.

Tom on a bearskin rug, holding a hoagie waited breathlessly. The tension was palpable in that one could ummm.. plap it… I guess…whatever.

You could hear the oil dripping…from Higgins or from the hoagie, only these two would ever know”.

Sincerely,

David.