Okay, so it’s a reentry Monday and I’m currently finalizing the blueprints for a potential suicide plan. I figure if I swan dive off the peak of my office, I could generate enough velocity to die on impact, thus ridding me of the laundry responsibilities I have planned for later this afternoon.
However, if I don’t choose to jump, I need something to keep me engaged until Friday. Life gets boring here and there, and sometimes, all you need is a little push.
Long story short, I guess CEO Joe is taking a “vacation” this week. I have no idea where he’s going or what’s on his agenda or yadda yadda yadda. He could be planning a 7-day, communal coke bender with a tribe of Vietnamese midgets in Cabo for all I care. All I know is that he’ll be relieved of all administrative obligations for the week and the rest of us have the option of a.) being responsible and collectively helping out on the back end of things; or b.) just fucking mailing it in.
Now, for those of you keeping score, I’m an agent of “mail it in” culture. I nearly invented it for God’s sake. Back in school, whenever I learned a teacher was out with a head cold, I’d be halfway to my car before the substitute could even wheel in that late ‘80s, wood panel TV with the belt strapped over it.
That said, this situation could serve as the perfect opportunity to expose Joe as a “System CEO.” Once I accomplish that, I’ll be one step closer to gaining administrative control of Branded Sports. From there, I plan to sell the company to pay back a few local methemphetamine dealers I entered bad investments with, but I digress…
The bet is this: if we can surpass Branded’s weekly production (I’m not sure how that “production” is quantified but I’m sure there are a few indicative statistics we can utilize as a barometer) with Joe riding the bench, he has to do something. If we can’t, then we have to do something because that’s generally how bets work.
Now, I’m crunched for time so I’m going to outsource the stipulations of the bet because, quite frankly, I have a pretty fucked up brain and I don’t think either party wants me pulling the strings of a potentially binding contract.
That said, what should the bet be? Feel free to make them as ridiculous as possible. I have no shame…
— Joey Boats (@joey_boats)