Bros Must Go
You are the bros who just took over our office building. You suck. You stand outside the building, chain-smoking through every work break, dumping your spent butts all over the pavement and talking loudly about office bullshit—which, in your case, sounds like direct-marketing fraud—and ogling all my hot female co-workers. You line up each morning like pigs at the trough when the grease truck arrives, and then spend much of the rest of the day turning our bathroom into an open sewer. My only hope is the feds get wise to your scam and shut your operation down so you can pollute some other place with your brotastic selves, hopefully behind bars.
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