Brad I swear to the gods of today and of yore I will make your death the most painful and drawn out process there has ever been.

Your faults are listed as so:
1. your vibrating cellphone. It goes off every (on average) 1.2 minutes. I know - I counted. *bzz* *bzz* If you are getting that many phone calls turn off the vibrate.... notice how the screen lights up? You should be used to it by now.. deal with it.. let everyone live in peace.
2. Conference calls on speaker phone.. yup.. those go to a huddle room or for the love of god get a god damned headset. No one fucking cares and I am going to start hanging around mic range and start dropping noises and swear words whilst you are on it.
3. How fucking hard is your job Brad? It seems not that much since you are on one of your phones for more than 3/4 the day talking about some girls basketball or softball team called the shockers. Good god almighty. That's *personal* time and frankly your scouting reports of the other teams, the issues with so and so's ball handling confidence, and girl-on-girl interpersonal relationship webs is just not good general conversation. Yes.. we can all hear you.

In short, shut your filthy fucking mouth Brad.. do some work for once. Turn off the vibrate on your damn phone.. and perhaps you will be spared.

God I hate you so much and overtly you seem like a nice guy. I believe you are attempting to drive me insane so I quit. That's a bad option Brad... a very bad one indeed.

On the plus side BJ's kept his noises to a minimum. This work place might just snap my soul.