So it goes Office Queen B pranced to the features editor screaming, “How to write underwear advertorial without sounding gay?”
OK, time to face facts.
One, you are what you are; There’s nothing you can do about it. Try embracing your true nature, I suspect you’ll enjoy life more. I did.
Two, stop gloating. You are drooling over the bulge of the model, we get it. But get a hold of yourself, it’s just pixels.
Three, the gig is up. We already know you are a boy who loves other boys; There really isn’t the need to advertise this, again. It’s like putting a second giant advertising balloon that says “Great Deal” next to the one that says “Free Bentley with Purchase of a Year’s Omaha Steaks”. Overkill much?
Hmmm, but wait a sec… Queens have no notion of understatement. Oh alright, you’re forgiven. But this will go down as a big red mark on your report card.
So it goes Office Queen J got transferred into our bullpen the week before. The benefits commitee (in charge of allotting free magazines to all staff) hasn’t gotten around to transferring J’s name from his old bullpen into our pen’s list… Hence, Queen J doesn’t get his free magazine this week.
He rants, gets his superior to come to me, where I show her our pen’s list where his name is, of course, missing.
Still dissatisfied, he proceeds to send an email — marked “High Importance” — begging for his missing free magazine copy to our pen’s HR partner, who directs him to aforesaid benefits committee.
Diligently, he sends yet another “High Importance” email to the benefits committee, screaming bloody murder because he’s missing a S$2 magazine. Duly, the benefits committee responds with a “You will get your measly (emphasis my own) S$2 magazine wef next week.”
How do I know all these? He forwarded the whole trail of “High Importance” emails, asking me sweetly — an 😉 emoticon was included, and this email wasn’t marked “High Importance” — to keep an eye for his free magazine next week.
ALL THAT JAZZ for one measly S$2 magazine – I can just hear the music playing in his head now… ”
J, you’re also forgiven, but for all that squealing to one of Broadway’s most iconic songs, you get a big red mark on your report card too.