return of the free krispie kremes at work

well, great, welcome back, you trans-fatty fuckers. my ample man-breasts have been drafting a thank-you note since your last visit, but they keep spending their postage allowance on pepperoni and popcorn shrimp hot pockets.
anyway, you've left me with no other option. i need to flee. no one wants to see my triple-g rack bouncing around onstage this february.
to keep in touch: please affix a letter or a print out of an email to the back of a fox trained to hunt down the stink of weed-sweat.