Stop chewing your fucking gum, whore

I've worked a lot of jobs in my short employment history. I've been a stockboy, truck unloader, truck driver, dog handler, phone beggar, production assistant and more. Out of all my jobs, none have been more infuriating that working as a phone monkey for an attorney services company. Here's a short description of my job:

1. Answer the phone

2. Let the whore of a secretary yell at you for something you didn't fuck up

3. Hold back your urge to look up her company's info, go to her building, and burn it down

4. Tell her you'll take care of the problem

5. Don't take care of the problem

6. Repeat

It's an easy job, but dealing with the vile creations known as secretaries is one of the most horrifying punishments the world can give to a guy like me. I can't fucking stand secretaries. It's like my life wasn't shitty enough. Now I have to listen to some whore making six figures with the job title of "Paralegal" asking me what court she needs to file her attorney's bullshit lawsuit in.I never remember having a job where I looked at everything in the office as a potential implement of suicide.

If this all wasn't bad enough, they seem to have found a way to irritate me more than anything in the fucking world. They chew gum when they call up. I get at least one of these a day, and it ruins my entire day, and I guarantee it will ruin yours if one of your nitwit friends does it to you. There is not sound more hideous than a fat bitch chewing on her cud while she sits around and asks questions of an unbelievable stupidity. It's getting to a point where I can't even look at gum in my local grocery store. Next time I hear some slapdick secretary dare to chew gum while I'm talking, I''m going to look up her address, wait in her bushes until she comes home, stab her in the heart with a rusty nail gun, wear her skin around her office in order to trick her fellow retard employees that I'm her, and plant a bomb in the middle of the building. Of course, I'll have to parachute off the rooftop like a badass, but at least I'll be able to throw her children on to the pavement while I'm there.

If I ran Hell, I would make all the secretaries who will inevitably end up there sit on red hot iron spikes and answer phones made of scorpions. Guess who would be on the other line? That's right, your one and only evil taskmaster The Dumpster Keeper! And you better believe I'll be asking if my filing has been done in the three minutes since I last called! Deal with it, bitch, you're in my domain now!