Mockers for Hire: The Saundra Bovill Edition

2009 June 22
by mockers

saundraMockers for Hire is a professional mocking service provided by  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!

Excuse me, Saundra Bovill of Rimini, MT?  Is it possible that at some point around 9 years ago we were at a bar together?  If so, would it then be possible that I got so drunk that I blacked out for at least two days, during which time you tricked me into having relations with you that included all procedures necessary to produce a child? I know it seems unlikely, especially considering the amount of alcohol that would be necessary for me to get with anyone who is capable of wearing that brown pantsuit and maintain a straight face throughout the day (you look like a sergeant in Willy Wonka’s army), but it’s the only explanation I can think of.  I must be the kid’s father.  Why else would you come in here every morning and show me a new picture on your cell phone of your daughter completing some inane task?  “Here’s Hannah doing the dishes!  Here’s Hannah at the zoo.  Here’s Hannah on Christmas morning – look at that – she put the bow on her head!” Look – I’m almost positive I am nothing more than an innocent victim here, but I’ll gladly pay some child support or something if you’ll promise to stop with the circadian multi-media report of Hannah’s actions from the previous day.  Softball?  Don’t give a fuck.  Dance recital?  Shove it up your ass, Saundra…

Also, I was curious, do you know of any place that sells chloroform over the counter?  See, I have this dream of getting through the Monday morning staff meeting without hearing someone say, “It is what it is.”  It recently occurred to me that the only way that I might realize this dream would be sneak up behind you with a chloroform-soaked rag and cover your mouth and nose until you lose consciousness.  Oh wow, now that I think about it, this would also prevent your thin, malformed lips from releasing other horrible cliches and bad sports analogies. You could just sit there unconscious in your ridiculous brown getup with your head on your desk, not bothering anyone.  Management shouldn’t mind, considering there will be no change in your work output.

I think the only downside to this solution would be that I’d have to see the most mockable part of your absurd hairstyle as I walk past your desk on the way to the copy machine.  I mean, the crazy 1980’s poofball bangs would be smashed into the desk and out of sight, so that’s good.  Unfortunately, the mousse-or-gel-or-whatever spikes that you put in the back of your head would be standing straight up and be prominently featured.  Dear God I wish someone would tell me why some women think that spikes in the back of their head is attractive. I guess the chloroform’s no good…Hey, Saundra do you know of a place that sells racquetballs and duct tape?

One Response leave one →
  1. 2009 June 22
    Alan Langley permalink

    Q: Who smells more like sweaty old man balls than Alan Langley?

    A: Saundra Bovill.

    Rimini, Montana? I’ve taken dumps bigger than that little mousefart of a town.

    Of course, I can’t top a mock bigger or meaner than “you had sex with Metten” which appears to be the basis for this mock.

    That is about as low as it gets. I may no longer even be qualified to mock your entire body at once now. I might have to mock one herpes sore at a time and work my way down from your horrific old lady afro down to your stank feet.

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