The Bitterness of Mikey 1:1

An open letter from Mikey to those whom have had the gift of supervisory authority over him:

Why am I amazed that hordes and hordes of oafs and fools seem to find themselves in position of authority over me?
Is it not I who chose, no, willingly took the blindfold and then felt the burn of the gunshot to work for such fools and oafs?
Why does this vile taste continue to stain my professional affairs? Could it be that I require this level of moron as a source of creativity?
could be.
Or could it be that I enjoy causing pain and frustration in like and finding the depths of rage and borders of madness of each and every dopey manager for whom I've ever worked.
This is far more likely.
I have always spat in the face of pointless minutae and the goofs that attempt to grind it into my psyche. It is as if such lame policies are designed to more quickly identify whom will step to the management tune and who will not and to file them accordingly forevermore from that point.
With the preceding being said, I bring good tidings to a few whom always sparked gladness, contentment, intelligence and rationale thought. I remark that the following list of exceptions to my experiences with the morons of middle management is short and does not include myself from my self employed period of 1995 to 1997 for I was a great fool and I should not have worked for myself at that time.
Good tidings and great blessing are saved for Josee and Andrew of Wexford, Art of the south side, Shawn of Oakmont, Mike and Riggs of Warren, Ed of San Diego, Steven of Chicago, Bob of Summit, Jerry of Clio, and Big Feet Benny of the bronx. These are the rarities among those without cognitive capability, those without coordination, those who breathe mediocrity.
May all others take heed, though your soul has long since been dealt for the position you claim to be yours. It is not too late to join those for whom the credit is given. Those who lie in the trenches, create the result and reflect on the production of a life righteously fought.

Peace unto Nancy of the sixth circle, I know your suffering and it brings light to your madness that did not exist before. Any great clean up hitter knows your pain when learning how to bat from the other side of the plate later in a career, there is much to learn, many mistakes to be made. Go ye in peace and live the life you require and know the blessing of mikey.

Dave of Moon, Know ye that it was my own darkness that caused me to convince you that I had a brain cyst when I did not, and that it was guilt over this fallacy that caused you to take me back only for me to then leave you. The pinnacle of a jilted relationship. You should have let me move to claims as I pleaded with you to do. Go ye also in peace.

Janine of Lexington, Know ye this: that I would have taken my own life rather than work another day in your prescence, and though this cannot be good for your esteem, it was the entire environment that was moving me to suicide. To avoid this tribulation and to save the many women of this life the blessing of my gifts, I chose to leave you on that fateful lunch hour without a clue of why it all came down. Go ye also in peace.

I give my highest of thanks and blessings to the lord, for it is upon me now that the only person I can truly work for and criticize correctly is myself. And so it shall be.