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| Egypt to become the 51st state of USA Day 16 of the Egiptian protest seems promising | Confessions of an unstable Editor-In-Chief: HELP! |
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.nightlife .religion .untrue .politcs .perks .presidents .paranormal .ititches
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Egypt to become the 51st state of USA Day 16 of the Egiptian protest seems promising
Confessions of an unstable Editor-In-Chief: HELP!
.nightlife.religion.untrue.politcs.perks.presidents.paranormal.ititches
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Author name: Siim Einfeldt
Occupation: Ruler of the worlds Author trustabiliy: Author is not very trustworthy Bonk something: Blah blah yee . untrue
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Confessions of an unstable Editor-In-Chief: Prisoner of The CheersWho do you love? Me! Me! Me! At least I would hope so, being a prisoner and all. I’m being kept in chains inside the cyber castle of The Cheers magazine. My editorial staff is throwing stones at me, one bigger than the other. They used to just call me bad names, but that all changed when I told them there’s no money for them anymore. They used to earn billions, but now I thought I’d buy a Smart car for myself instead, customized version, looks like something between Aston Martin, Jeep and a bicycle. And the weird thing is that they don’t even care about the billions I stopped paying them. All they care about is the image, the image I, as an Editor-In-Chief of this magazine, leave about the magazine with my car. They actually don’t even allow me to call it a car. They call it a wheelchair without wheels. Or a baby-spaceship in sandbox. Or a mascot that should never have seen the light. Basically they just hate me. Everyone I work with would rather see me drowning inside my own vomit. „Work with” is not the expression I was looking for though, I should be called their superior, boss, chief, their leader, but for the last years it rather looks like I’m working for them. Do that! Don’t do that! Publish my article! Write my article! Get me my coffee! Give my poodle a massage! And then they keep calling me bad names as well, I’m used to that, that’s been so for years, but lately they have started generating impulsive rhymes about me. The latest one I heard was: „Once there was a dickless dick This guy really makes us all sick But still we want him all to stick Cause he’s actually a great guy”  Do that! Don’t do that! Publish my article! Write my article! Get me my coffee! Give my poodle a massage! Why don’t I leave? Good question! Great question mate! Moron! A year ago I was afraid my employees would kill me. Now I wish they would have. So yesterday I decided I will leave The Cheers for good. I tried to sneak out secretly without anyone noticing. Not sure if it was my 10 suitcases, modified Smart car inside the building or anything else that gave me away, but my employees noticed it and they decided they won’t let me go anywhere. They like me....well, they like having no boss. They like having someone around to beat whenever they want to, someone to laugh at. They like me. And in order to teach me a lesson and to show what might happen the next time I try to leave, they locked me up in second floor toilet of The Cheers headquarters. Fortunately we have wireless laptops inside the wall of every single urinal here, so that’s how I’m able to write about my hard life, just need to wash my hands afterward. I’ve been here for the past 24 hours...wait...someone’s coming, got to go. Until next time... Note: This article was initially published in The Cheers magazine but we managed to come to a reasonable arrangement with their publisher. We do not support stealing content. Just to mention. Well, stealing ideas is one thing, well, sometimes even shoplifting, but not stealing written content. Hmm, okay, sometimes it's okay even to steal written content but not ... ah, forget it. Tags: fake news crazy articles the Cheers   
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