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Hello everyone.
Shok, for your going away present I wrote you a little poem:
My dearest Shok,
I remember when I first met you,
When your smile shown upon me,
You touched me in all the right places,
And my heart was filled with glee.
Your stories of dead hookers,
Of cock docking between two manly men.
Of a girl shitting out and freezing her poo,
And shoving it back in again.
Your sausage fingers look so good,
Your chest looks so beary.
All this makes me wonder,
If your underpants are extremely hairy.
I know you'll miss my turkey call,
My daily jonesing for a burger,
Making fun of my made up words,
And laughing at your jokes of murder.
This office won't be the same,
Without your creepy stare.
The day will seem less bright now,
Without the sun bouncing off your thinning hair.
I'll cry myself to sleep tonight,
And although I'm not one for superstition,
I'll make sure to sacrifice a goat for you,
Wishing you luck on your next position.
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