Mockers for Hire: The Jeffrey O. Willis Edition
Before we get started, please direct your attention to the following public service announcement:
Let me guess. You’re happy for me, and you’re gonna let me finish, but somebody black had one of the best mocks of all time? Please, for the love of God…shut up. It was funny the one time I heard the phrase used in reference to Patrick Swayze and Michael Jackson. After that, it was just a neverending stream of douchebags parroting the same sentence ad nauseum. A google search for “Imma let you finish” yeilds 88,400 results. This, my friends, is the problem with the internet. I’m serious, quit it. By contrast, it remains funny to call Kanye a gay fish. On with the show:
Mockers for Hire is a professional mocking service provided by mockable.org. Just paypal us $49.95, give us a mailing address and a description of the person you want mocked and we’ll mock the living shit out of them. (400 word minimum) We might even berate and verbally abuse them for no additional charge. What can we say…we love our job. We’ll also provide you a framed print of the mock to leave on their desk while they’re at break. It beats the hell out of that pathetic, passive-aggressive piece-of-shit note you were going to leave on their chair. Seriously…college ruled? The Dollar Store frame and HP color graphics will really show that you care – and the professional mocking will prove to that sexual harrassing sonofabitch that you mean business. Mockers for Hire – giving people shit who may or may not deserve it since 2009…Give us a try!
Hey Jeffrey O. Willis of Louisville, KY., come on down and take your medicine.
See, this mock originally only had one purpose. Your coworkers really want you to stop clipping your nails at your desk. When one exceptionally handsome and intelligent employee decided to send this message via mockable.org, he went around the office asking for donations. Not only did he collect the money for the mock, he also got enough for a generous tip to the mockable.org staff (yes, that’s allowed) as well as lunch for the whole department. That’s right, last Thursday the guys didn’t really go to a seminar that contained ‘vital information for everyone except you.’ They were at P.F. Wang’s eating potstickers and sharing stories about you.
First, the nails – Is there some sort of vitamin or supplement that you are taking that makes your nails grow so fast that you have to trim them every day? We think it might just be a nervous habit – something you do while you’re on the phone – but it’s got to stop, man. It probably hasn’t occurred to you that you’re blasting little pieces of disgusting all over the office on a daily basis, but the people within a 50 foot radius of your cube cringe every time you make that clipping noise.
Jeff, we also need to talk about the “success principles” or whatever that crazy “business success” religion is that your subscribe to. Dude, you’re a customer service representative for an insurance company…calm down. Despite what you might believe, wearing the same jacket and tie every day with blatant disregard for the color of your shirt and pants do not “project an image of success.” In fact, do us a favor and look at Deborah in the cube next to you. She has piercings in her lip, nose, tongue and eyelid. She’s wearing a cotton t-shirt that says “slut” in sequins across the front and a pair of stretch pants that clearly exposes 47% of her thong. Even she is going to climb the corporate ladder faster than you are because she actually talks to the customers. You just sit there listening to those motivational tapes at an unacceptible volume while clipping your nails. Do us all a favor – shut off the cassette tapes, take the clippers home, and for the love of God take off that stinky old jacket and come back with a sweatshirt and some jeans!
Also, thanks a whole fucking bunch for the new “self-evaluation policy.” No one cares what books you’ve read on the subject that made you an HR expert or whatever. The fact that everyone now has to do this is lowering morale and affecting productivity. It’s also getting you called a smelly-jacket-motivational-tape-listening-dickhead. Which is pretty accurate if you ask me.
Finally, we managed to hear you on the phone over the constant buzz of the nail clippers when you told your girlfriend that “the whole place smells like white people.” Look, once and for all – we know that black folks think we smell. We also know what you think we smell like. We are sorry. We tried all sorts of different stuff but it appears that no matter how much Old Spice we use, you just can’t cover up the smell of white people. You’re just going to have to live with it.
ROTFLMAO!!!
I had a buddy in the Corps who was black, his Mom used to say that white men smelled like wet puppies! That always made me laugh histerically for some reason.
White men, as a general rule, stink? Who knew?
“a pair of stretch pants that clearly exposes 47% of her thong”
Do we have Deborah’s last name and perhaps her address?
we smell? really?