Dear All,
The less said about last nights unpleasantries the better, but when your Editor In Chief decides to skive off work for the week to go see a Barbara Streisand concert he does not enjoy the sight of his entire workforce sobbing their hearts out to 'Woman In Love'. Further dissatisfaction arises when he was under the impression that at said time they were half way across the city touring our premises with a group of Japanese business investors. All told I can't help but suffer some misgivings as to your combined work ethic.
Admittedly we're all in the same boat of confusion with regards to their motives, but cash is cash and Goodgame says that according to the computer stats we're shit hot on the Tokyo scene. Regardless, I still expect my employees, nay, five British citizens (You've been here thirty nine years Robbins, you can't keep claiming Cuban citizenship because of a flight delay) to offer up our guests a modicum of respect and hospitality.
Not only were these gentlemen left alone to wander through the stricken remnants of film night but due to a certain someone leaving the front doors open they also had to content with a ransacked newsroom and a vicious gang of scrap metal dealers who 'inadvertently' stabbed the translator with a fax machine circuit board.
I won't lie, I'm furious, but what really hurts, what really inches the knife further and further into my spine is the fact that after months of suggestions I was excluded from the first film night hooker night cross over. Unbelievable. And don't pretend it didn't happen because Douglas tagged me in an image of Chris getting a blowy from a saucy brunette while watching The Big Lebowski.
Until the building is fully restored to its former glory and someone can properly investigate the whereabouts of the chandelier you're all pulling double shifts. Consider this a pre-punsihment until I can think of something more befitting a group of inhospitable layabouts such as yourselves. Think the Douglas cleaning debacle only worse.
Now if you'll excuse me I've got a crushing headache to contend with, no thanks to yourselves and will probably be off sick for a few days. While I'm gone I don't want any shenanigans and I already checked, the chandelier hasn't been sold to the O2 so try looking elsewhere.
Yours Disappointedly,
Shaky xxx
The less said about last nights unpleasantries the better, but when your Editor In Chief decides to skive off work for the week to go see a Barbara Streisand concert he does not enjoy the sight of his entire workforce sobbing their hearts out to 'Woman In Love'. Further dissatisfaction arises when he was under the impression that at said time they were half way across the city touring our premises with a group of Japanese business investors. All told I can't help but suffer some misgivings as to your combined work ethic.
Admittedly we're all in the same boat of confusion with regards to their motives, but cash is cash and Goodgame says that according to the computer stats we're shit hot on the Tokyo scene. Regardless, I still expect my employees, nay, five British citizens (You've been here thirty nine years Robbins, you can't keep claiming Cuban citizenship because of a flight delay) to offer up our guests a modicum of respect and hospitality.
Not only were these gentlemen left alone to wander through the stricken remnants of film night but due to a certain someone leaving the front doors open they also had to content with a ransacked newsroom and a vicious gang of scrap metal dealers who 'inadvertently' stabbed the translator with a fax machine circuit board.
I won't lie, I'm furious, but what really hurts, what really inches the knife further and further into my spine is the fact that after months of suggestions I was excluded from the first film night hooker night cross over. Unbelievable. And don't pretend it didn't happen because Douglas tagged me in an image of Chris getting a blowy from a saucy brunette while watching The Big Lebowski.
Until the building is fully restored to its former glory and someone can properly investigate the whereabouts of the chandelier you're all pulling double shifts. Consider this a pre-punsihment until I can think of something more befitting a group of inhospitable layabouts such as yourselves. Think the Douglas cleaning debacle only worse.
Now if you'll excuse me I've got a crushing headache to contend with, no thanks to yourselves and will probably be off sick for a few days. While I'm gone I don't want any shenanigans and I already checked, the chandelier hasn't been sold to the O2 so try looking elsewhere.
Yours Disappointedly,
Shaky xxx
