Apprentice
Who Wears The Pants?

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Jacob Clifton: B- | Grade It Now!
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Lesson Thirteen: You Are His Bitch, He Will Be Hanging His Slam On You

Bringing up each other's task records? Smart. Citing past interpersonal issues that Trump has seen firsthand? Smart. Talking over each other and being all "that is outrageous" and "I don't recall that"? Irritating, but everybody has done it, and usually with a lot more drama and eye-rolling and fake-sighs than here. The loudness? A double-edged beast, because there's a feedback issue. Keeping the focus on proven ability instead of just talking unadulterated smack? Classy and smart. Here's some stuff they didn't do: Imply that the other person smelled like feces. Explain in small words the purpose of money and the exchange of currency for good sand services to a captain of industry. Float the idea that the other one should already be working for her. Explain in small words the cracks in Trump's belief system, while begging to be fired. Refer to the other as a great idea for the next star of a clown movie, make any death threats, or actually lose their entire set of marbles. They just did what they were supposed to do, and did it more civilly than any Boardroom this season, and in the top three of class-act Boardrooms I've ever seen.

So what's the problem? They're ladies. Ladies hate each other, and they want to destroy each other. Always. It's because -- this is a secret, but we're friends -- they secretly want you. And sooner or later, one will destroy the other, and she'll get you. And that will be utterly sexy. But also disgusting. Because that's the problem with the ladies: either they're the good kind, and they don't use the bathroom or say nasty words or attack each other, or...you know. Whores. And once you see some women fighting, even if it's only in your own sick, sad little mind, they're whores after that. Because if they can get mad at each other, it's possible that they'll get mad at you one day. And it's not like women are ever right, but it might still hurt your feelings. And that's very sad, but when you get to be as old as me and T-Bag, you've seen it happen with virtually every woman you know. To stay in our good graces, you gotta wrap your shit up so tight Queen Elizabeth would be like, "I feel like a slut standing here next to you," and laugh your ass off -- politely, don't laugh too loud -- whenever T-Bag makes a disgusting sexist joke. And don't go crowding his game: that's the act of a whore that is ruining his brand. And don't go marrying him, because you'll be labeled a whore within six years, and sure, you'll get crazy alimony, but you'll still have to live with what you are. Which is a whore. You can't be proud of yourself, because pride is a sin, and pointless besides, just like you can't talk about your accomplishments, because those are only leant value if there's a man admiring them. I would like to meet Donald Trump's mother.

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Apprentice

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