Dear Sir in the cubicle next to me,
I'm sorry to inform you but I believe that you are perhaps in dire need of a functioning mirror. I only say this because it is my belief that you perhaps be wearing the same clothes that were wearing yesterday, the day before, the day before that...quite possibly for the week. Not only that, I would also like to inform you that your relatively little amount of hair could be put in an insane asylum. Also, I would greatly appreciate it if you would stop moaning/grunting awkwardly. I am presuming that you are not reading the Kama Sutra or anything of that nature and if you are, I would appreciate it if you jacked off Ina more private place than the fourth floor of Clemons. My mistake. I can see now that you are moaning over the slices of pizza that you are shoving into your mouth. Normally I would say to each his own, but for the courtesy of those around you, it would be great if you stopped treating the slice of pizza like it's the girl you want to eat. I apologize for the crudeness of this post.
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