AN OPEN LETTER TO WHOEVER KEEPS STEALING MY LUNCH FROM THE BREAK ROOM REFRIDGERATOR
You're like a real-life Yogi Bear, swiping "pic-a-nic" baskets from the hard working Rangers in Jellystone Park.
that's not fair to Yogi. He was lovable and misunderstood. You're just
a lazy dipshit with no morals and an inverted penis.
so you know, I'm trying to figure out a way to stuff bumble bees in my
lunch so they sting your face when you open the bag. So stay tuned for
Or maybe I'll steal something
of yours. Maybe your filthy Starter jacket that smells like Campbell's
soup, or your extensive collection of child pornography. How would that
make you feel? And how do I know so much about you?
takes a special kind of penny-sniffing megatard to steal food from
coworkers, and when I finally piece this little mystery together, the
only thing you'll be snacking on is Boo Boo's perineum.
See you in hell,
John Q. Sandwich