By Gustavo Arellano
By R. Scott Moxley
By Alfonso Delgado
By Courtney Hamilton
By Joel Beers
By Peter Maguire
By Charles Lam
By Charles Lam
Illustration by Bob AulYou two are the most fuck-witted employers I've ever had the displeasure of working for. For months I endured your urine-soaked cats crawling all over my desk, your flea- and tick-riddled dogs crapping and puking on the floor and slobbering all over my clothes, and your mite-infested birds wallowing in their own shit for weeks on end.
The final straw: the jokes you made in regards to an ex-employee suffering from multiple sclerosis. Don't even get me started on your distributors; multilevel marketing people like yourselves are a different kind of inbred ineptitude.
Yet, I stayed because I needed the money, and all I ever wanted in a job was to be a valued employee. Then business went bad and you let me go, and now you're denying my unemployment claim.
Go ahead, push forward with that appeal. I invite you. I took my notes; I got my back covered. I've got all the information I need to drag your asses through the dog shit you made me wade through day in and day out.
But maybe—just maybe—I'll let it all slide. It's only a matter of time before your multilevel marketing company will topple like every other pyramid scheme. For me, it'll be time for schadenfreude—
and a beer!Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations—changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to "Hey, You!" c/o OC Weekly, P.O. Box 10788, Costa Mesa, CA 92627-0247, or e-mail us at firstname.lastname@example.org