I’m growing greatly discouraged by today’s youths of American.  They’ve got no respect: it seems they’re growing more and more defiant the further apart they get from me in age.  Yesterday at work we got new interns, or PBs as I like to call them (Personal Bitches).  I have a personal policy of ignoring interns for two weeks--let them wander around aimlessly before I introduce them to what it’s like being a Personal Bitch.  I like to let them get comfortable and think how much fun and easy interning is gonna be before the degradation, belittlement, and stripping away of their confidence begins.  It’s one of my job perks.

So the new guy we got yesterday was a goofy-looking mofo--kinda like that guy with David Spade in those Capital One commercials.  When I saw this eager-eyed, optimistic little twerp, I knew right away there was potential for problems: I needed to crush his dreams immediately and show him what the television business was really like--especially when he had the gall to actually introduce himself to me.

“Nice to met you Gary,” I said with a warm and pleasant smile.  “Drop and give me 20 push-ups.”

“Excuse me?”

Defiance from this little booger.  PBs are kinda like dogs that hafta be housetrained: you gotta show them who’s in charge from the very get-go.  “You heard me.”

I couldn’t believe how defiant this guy was.  Whatever happened to the good’ole days, when interns did whatever you commanded?  William Jefferson knows what I’m talking about--don’tcha Mr. President?  I mean, it’s not like I was asking him to do anything unreasonable--all I wanted from him was to give me 20 push-ups so we could establish who the alpha dog was. 

“I don’t think it’s part of my internship description,” he said.  “I’m going to have to check with my counselor first.”

Long story short: I’m not allowed to talk to the interns anymore.

No respect.