purposely telling your boss you don’t know the answer because you don’t get paid enough to fix their problems

seen from Germany
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seen from United States
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seen from Yemen
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purposely telling your boss you don’t know the answer because you don’t get paid enough to fix their problems
This is the smol borb edition of the Z Snap.
BECAUSE NEGAN’S A PRICK.
Eyes wide, Addison recoils from Negan’s little rant for a moment -- offended and livid. Oh. It takes balls to look him in the face and say such things, both of them know it -- but this particular argument had been a long time coming. The disease in Addison’s lungs had controlled his thoughts and life for longer than he could remember and it was HABIT to concern himself with it. Before the end of all days he’d done some of the worst things to help manage it and now -- now that he was technically set for the rest of his life (however long he had) he almost seemed lost. Angry, even. And the best place to take that anger out? Well... “Alright, motherfucker. You want me to worry about other shit? Fine. Let’s do it. Let’s hash that the fuck out right here, right now. Walkers? I could give two fucks about walkers. I hate them. I hate what they were and I hate what they are but I live here in little ‘ole Sanctuary so they aren’t really a PROBLEM for me. Next. Clothing? You look ridiculous. I mean it. This multiple belt leather daddy badass with a bat shit? You cannot tell me you went around like this before --- someone would have beat your ass.”
“And my hair is staying the way it fucking is.”
It’s the most he’s said it one go in ... fuck. Years? Probably. His throat burns, rasps as he moves closer and continues with a fist clenched at his side. Begging to swing. Begging to start something his body probably wouldn’t let him finish. “You want me to keep going? Want me to worry over your little head while I’m at it? All this shit with Alexandria -- the POWER PLAY -- who’s dick is bigger BULLSHIT -- between you and Rick Grimes? It’s going to get you killed. And yeah. Maybe that fucking BUGS me a little bit because -- unlike my condition that we’re not worrying over at the moment -- it’s something that can be helped the moment you get your HEAD out of your ASS!”
I don't have types, I have categories.
An unsweet tea with no fruit? Um, as your waiter it's a little late for that
y’all out here hatin on sagittarius cause you know we’re right about everything all the time
OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH!