Daily Briefs: Touch-a touch-a touch-a my butt, losers.

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By CHRIS PACKHAM

I’m bragging. You’d brag, too, if you were the Plog Employee of the Month. But some of us are winners, and you know what they say about the cream always rising? They say it always rises. They were supposed to pick somebody at the beginning of the month, but Faysal got busy with payroll and forgot. You know that hallway at Target that leads past the customer service desk, the employee break room and the restrooms, which is covered with framed pictures of smiling employees of the month? We’ve got that here, too, and now yours truly gazes out smugly at every fucker walking down to the lav with the sports section tucked under his arm. Or with the Vaginal Beauty section tucked under her arm. Whichever.

I get to use the primo parking space everyone’s always arguing over, right out by the dumpster, through the end of the month. Unfortunately, my girlfriend drives the car, so I don’t usually get to park there. But I set up my folding chair and a cooler of Bartles and Jaymes every afternoon in my spot and wave at my co-workers with my big foam #1 finger and call them names. I hope August never ends.

After the jump, two big reasons why Plog shift supervisor Faysal Alkhaiwani decided I was ze best: My Photoshopping, and my heart full of hate. Click here, or click on the latest addition to my expanding wall of certified accomplishments:

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