So my boss caught me looking at this at work. Probably a bad move surfing granite glootz at that time but C. Moore has NEEDS. Long story short I told him it was my cousin's wife and apologised for checking personal shit at work. Not cool.
Bad to worse. He got the IT dept watching my activities. C. Moore was of the idea that using personal devices to download granite gloot pics at work was going to be cool but turns out things can be traced. Who knew? Official warning.
Protan gloot granite before the show is a heavenly gift. But not when it arrives in your inbox at work and the boss has got literally every other mofo in the room keeping their beady eyes on you. Of course I view the attachments. Maryse and Cathy are some kind of glootal angels with their bodies all hard and bronzed and needing the oil application real soon. Next day I'm up in front of the boss, his boss, and some jelly woman from HR who keeps giving me evils. C. Moore didn't have much defence. I was out of there faster than Dave Cameron exiting a Euro summit.
Be warned!
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