If I Don't Have A Report On This Graph On My Boss's Desk By 5 P.M., He Will Surely Consume My Soul

I have no idea what the fuck is going on here. This graph looks more like moss of some sort or an artistically colored map of veins or roads than it looks like a visual representation of statistics.

The word 'shag' is in the title, but somehow I have a feeling this graph is not about sex. Sadly, no, no sex in this graph.

I wish there was sex in this graph.

Okay, okay, keep calm. What does it look like? It looks like horrible chaos. Yes, that is definitely true. Okay, start there...

"This graph, while clearly chaotic..."

Okay, good start. Just got to keep it going.

"especially when compared to say, this graph,..."



"... but is only slightly more complicated than this graph."



Okay. This sucks. What a load of bullshit.

"This graph, while clearly chaotic, especially when compared to say, this graph, but is only slightly more complicated than this graph." IS NOT A GODDAMNED SENTENCE.

Oh holy lord. It is 4:57. Why did I spend all day playing curveball?!

"Dear Boss:

This graph most closely resembles the mean path phase space of my brain when contemplating what the hell to do with this bullshit assignment. In other words, I look at this graph, my brain goes in a thousand different directions, and the following thoughts enter my head simultaneously:

1. Why are you such an asshole?

2. Why the hell am I working for you?

3. Clearly, this has to be some sort of joke. Please stop wasting my time.

4. I am hungry.

5. No part of this graph, in any way, resembles any female form. This should be fixed immediately.

6. You smell bad. I mean, really, really bad. The stench is actually visible. I have no idea how you accomplished this, but, suffice it to say, I must extend my begrudging respect.

7. If you insist on eating my soul, I suggest that you start with my corporeal form, liver first, as I have resorted to binge eating as a result of the stress of working for you. Yes, that is right, I consider these lovehandles a gift straight from your ego to my hips. And no, THESE ARE NOT TEAR STAINS."

Phew, all that with another 39 seconds to go!! I wonder if he will like this as much as my report on the TPS Report Analysis from the 2005 Fiscal Year, entitled Dear Boss, If you didn't have your head up your ass, maybe you'd see that everyone hates you and TPS reports are for idiots. Love, your entire goddamned staff.