Okay, this is how it hangs--
My best bud, Verticlese*, at Orifice Depot is still stuck there, long after I got out. He's gamely struggling on, but here of late the little punk has gotten lucky--he got a computer, monitor, digital camera, and about a dozen other high-tech items on clearance, items which a certain Fat Fucker who shall remain nameless had hidden for his own nefarious purposes.
So, my very short, very bald bud has been emailing me. Angry, little man emails. See, he thinks he's funny that way. So me, being the loving, considerate, thoughtful friend that I am, I'm going to post his email address here, for everyone's viewing (and spamming) pleasure.
Everyone needs to copy and paste this email address into their email client and email this boy, and tell him that his very handsome ex-coworker posted his email address on the internet just like he threatened to do. Tell him this a lot.
And while you're at it, ask him for an autographed 8 x 10 of him in his Alice In Wonderland costume. Hot Tamales!
Remember: Hell hath no practical joking ability like an Irrelephant who is wound up.
*Verticlese, pronounced like "Hercules" only with "verti" from "vertical" replacing the first syllable. See, Verticlese is from "Who put the 'man' in 'Receiving Manager,' VERT-I-CLESE!" which is what I used to sing at him at OD. He's a little height-challenged, you see. Vertical. Clese. Verticlese. *wink wink nudge nudge*