Not sure what possesses (can’t spell that one with all the e’s and s’s's…damn s”sss’s…damnit!) someone to snap their mug in the john. Maybe he sends it off to his lady friends and is like, “Hey baby, I use the big-boy toilet on the right. Yeah, that sweet little number back behind me there. You like? I can use the little one too if that’s what your into…” Crazy. Nice lighting, though.
Anyway, I’m not here to ridicule the photographic preferences of guys I may meet in the crapper someday, so chill out Cletus. Get goin’ now, your sister and baby are waiting for you at home. I’m really just testing the img tag and how it wraps text around in different themes.
Fucking stupid-ass coworker gets an assignment from the boss to rewrite the performance review worksheet and the dickhead does it so that none of us who currently do the job could qualify for it, let alone get the promotions we were hoping for. I may be in jail for awhile after I shove that bastard off the roof.
Fill in the blank. I’m not gonna die having lived in the dullest part of the US (yes, there’s one or two places like that here) all my life. Need my paradigm shifted. My venue relocated. Monster’s calling, saying update the ol’ search agents. What should I put in there for desired cities (or countries)? I don’t like extreme temp’s, bugs, reptiles, or belt buckles as a fashion statement. Your turn. Tell me where to go.
What is it about pregnant women that is so attractive? I don’t ask that like, “OMG, if I see another bun in the oven I’m gonna snip myself right here in the Automotive aisle at Walmart.” I mean, “Yowza, that is one f-i-n-e lookin’ filly there!” Is it some primal awakening that says this one’s good for breeding? Is it the swelling breasts that show fertility and care and rearing ability? Is it that I’ve
enjoyed stumbled across too many preggo porn sites?
Well, we’ve done pregnancy…up for the rest?
Innuendo. Double entendres. Sarcasm with an accent that makes you want to thank them for the insult. Trying to decide what to do tonight. Call up some of the crew? Probably. But what to do? Go out? Watch some Monty Python at my place? Austin hates that humor, but the chicks can bs in the kitchen all night anyway.
Lumbergh got all pissy today because of an email I sent. He asked me to do his job, basically, and I kindly declined. Not really. I told him since he was the boss and making twice my salary, I’d let him do his job and I’d merrily go about my business. I guess that’s not what he wanted to hear since he wouldn’t leave my office. It’s a corner office (at the intersection of Hell Ave. and Back St.), nice view of the dumpster. I especially like it the day after an office pizza party because the cats fight like nobody’s biz over the scraps that don’t make it into the garbage properly. Yeah, it’s pretty sweet having a view of the loading dock and back alley. I don’t need a good view to get a nasty case of carpal tunnel syndrome, just a bad workstation, an uncomfortable chair, and more shit to type/email than a Chinese porn spammer. Sorry, that was harsh. I actually don’t mind Chinese porn as long as there’s no msg.
Welcome to SoulPatch. This is my first post. I only had to push for 47 seconds and then, like *M*A*G*I*C*, I had my very first post. Okay, that’s not true. The servers here at WordPress.com were a surrogate for me because I couldn’t have any posts of my own. Adopting a blog wasn’t an option, being a single writer and all. So here I am, unread parent, the shame of the blogosphere upon me. It’s almost more than I can beer. Oops! Typo. Was it a coincidence that the last sentence had “more”, “can”, and “beer” in it? I leave that for you to find out. Arriva dirt cheeks, mon ami!