Work is just a means, they say,

to what you want to do,

but working for this woman,

I’ll slit my wrists in two!


Her meanness is unending,

a temperament most foul,

if it wasn’t for her tits and ass,

we’d have the worst morale.


Should I be understanding

of a woman managing men?

Methinks I’d be less callous

if she didn’t come in at ten.


She keeps us fairly busy,

of that there is no doubt,

for when our work is finished late,

we have to hear her pout.


She organizes poorly,

leaves us lurching in a crunch.

It would be much worse

if she didn’t make us lunch.


She looks over my shoulder

when critiquing my work,

presses breasts against my back,

ass bent up in a twerk.


Me and the guys in the hall,

we have an office bet

that when she screams and hollers,

it surely makes her wet.


If I could find another job

I’d give my boss the finger.

Two in the twat, one in the ass,

she’d cum before I bang her!