Oh the sweet, sweet schadenfreude!
Coincidently, the sentence is almost the same amount of time I served working for that bent, moneygrubbing, thieving douchebag.
If there is any justice in this world, Sahashi will serve his entire sentence in a 6-foot by 6-foot poorly lit and unventilated glass room furnished with a round table 4 feet across and four folding chairs. A doorbell will chime every 40 minutes and a trio of guards will come in, demand to know why he came to prison, declare that their hobbies are "sleeping, driving, going to shopping and cleaning the room" and then either mutter incoherently, ask deeply personal questions about his sex life or impart deeply personal, often frightening personal information of their own, such as "I strangled my child's pet," "I think I might be bisexual," "I use a mirror to look up high school girls' skirts on the train" and the ever-popular "I've stopped taking the medication they gave me at the psychiatric clinic." At least one of the three guards should have breath that would peel paint and another should be in serious need of a bath. The third should make a point of coughing in Sahashi's face as much as possible. At least once a day, a four-year-old should be brought into cell to punch Sahashi in the scrotum and then scream non-stop at the top of its lungs for 40 minutes.
And he should have to wear a tie all day, every day, no matter how hot or humid it is - and no unbuttoning the collar. Ever.
And even then, the lying, larcenous, smug, arrogant shit-eating weasel still owes me six months as far as I'm concerned. I think everyone who ever worked for Nova or was ever a student at Nova should get a gift certificate good for one free opportunity to kick Sahashi in the yarbles.
(Note: This is a reposting from memory of the original post that was eaten by blogger when I tried to spellcheck it a few hours ago. It may vary slightly from the original posting put up last night)
2 comments:
Well said, Judge Rev. Can we round up the little Hitlers at Berlitz too, just for good measure?
Jeez. Years ago, I picked up some of their brochures when I was contemplating working for them. I never got back to them, because something about them smelled hinky, somehow.
Now I know why I felt that way. They WERE hinky!
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