From the Annals of Unintended and Undesired Empirical Analysis

Either copiers break a disproportionate amount of the time on Mondays, or the fucker tasked with calling George, the copier fix-it guy whose robust business was routed entirely through his cell phone, just never has the time to get to it after hump day.

And no. I don't fucking know George, can't fucking tell you how to fucking reach him, don't fix fucking copiers, and can't fucking direct you to someone who fucking can. Good day.