Tom Oatmeal

A Blog About Intercourse from a guy who doesn't get nervous about intercourse like his friend Ricky does.

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If you get the job managing the Raisinet factory, you don’t spend the first week holed up your office, going over the numbers.   They’ll eat you alive.
Get right to it.  Call a meeting and when you’re sure that everyone is gathered around, pop a handful of the raisinets in your mouth and suck the chocolate off aggressively, so that your face turns red and your head shakes.  Let them be afraid.
Spit the bare raisins out in your hand and hold them up.
“You call these raisins!?”
Everyone is too ashamed to answer and they stare at the floor.  Then you hold up a box of Sun-Maid raisins.
“I want you to call this woman and tell her we’re buying her raisin farm or her raisin trees or whatever plant makes the raisins.”
Some guy raises his hand.  “You want us to call that cartoon woman on the box?  I don’t think she’s a real person.”
“Find her.”
Then another hand goes up.  It’s a guy in overalls.
“Yes?”
“Are we still going to make those ones that are just little globs of chocolate?  You know, the ones where there’s no raisin inside because of a mechanical error?”
You roll your eyes at the group.
“Is he always this stupid?”
The employees laugh.  Then you laugh.  Everything is going to be fine under your leadership.   And the answer is, “Yes. We are still going to make the little chocolately non-raisin ones too because they taste good and they compliment the instances where you have too much raisin in your mouth.” 
The End.

If you get the job managing the Raisinet factory, you don’t spend the first week holed up your office, going over the numbers.   They’ll eat you alive.

Get right to it.  Call a meeting and when you’re sure that everyone is gathered around, pop a handful of the raisinets in your mouth and suck the chocolate off aggressively, so that your face turns red and your head shakes.  Let them be afraid.

Spit the bare raisins out in your hand and hold them up.

“You call these raisins!?”

Everyone is too ashamed to answer and they stare at the floor.  Then you hold up a box of Sun-Maid raisins.

“I want you to call this woman and tell her we’re buying her raisin farm or her raisin trees or whatever plant makes the raisins.”

Some guy raises his hand.  “You want us to call that cartoon woman on the box?  I don’t think she’s a real person.”

“Find her.”

Then another hand goes up.  It’s a guy in overalls.

“Yes?”

“Are we still going to make those ones that are just little globs of chocolate?  You know, the ones where there’s no raisin inside because of a mechanical error?”

You roll your eyes at the group.

“Is he always this stupid?”

The employees laugh.  Then you laugh.  Everything is going to be fine under your leadership.   And the answer is, “Yes. We are still going to make the little chocolately non-raisin ones too because they taste good and they compliment the instances where you have too much raisin in your mouth.” 

The End.

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    Tom Oatmeal’s stories, but...make me laugh my fool head off. To
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