Clearing The Cobwebs

Based on the cobwebs forming in the corners of this blog, my peeps are way overdue for an update. So, here you go....

• My office is moving and I am the Grand Pubah of the move, so to speak. Now if I could just find my fez... This has already led to numerous sleepless nights (not looking for the fez but worrying about the logistics of the move. Oh, did I mention that we’re moving across the hall? Yeah. Logistics. They’re a bitch. So much so that I can’t even talk about it right now. So - on to the next item.

• I was making breakfast one morning and cracked open an egg that had TWO YOLKS! Upon exhaustively searching the internet to read up on the superstitions associated with double yolkers, I discovered that I should expect either a windfall, a marriage, a pregnancy (which could make the aforementioned marriage of the shotgun variety) or a death in the family very soon. Strangely, the shotgun wedding is the only option in this list that strikes me as unlikely in the near future - the near future being the next 10 years. (I wonder if they make miniature fezzes for babies…..or fez shaped shotgun covers – kind of like a tea cozy but for firearms….perhaps a fez in lieu of a veil…..)
  
  This is the kind of crazy digression shit that happens when I’m operating on 4 hours of sleep. Moving on…..
  

• I looked in on my buddy’s cat while she was out of town last week. I know, I know – flamingos and calicos are sworn enemies you say. You know for years we’ve been hearing these lies and I bet you they were probably fabricated by the same bastards that brought us Olestra and Cheez Whiz. At any rate, it turns out that the sworn enemy theory is indeed just a vicious lie. Sweet kitty let me pet her for almost a whole 30 seconds before she disappeared in a puff of molting fur. Maybe my beak was a little too poke-y for her taste…
  
  Ok. Consider yourself up to speed on the scintillating happenings we're experiencing over here. Now go play in traffic somewhere else.

Hell's Belles

Damn, I miss livin' down south...
Waffle House waitress accused of shooting customer

Caught In The Act

Someone needs to start pitching in for the water bill...

My Give-A-Damn’s Busted

My dear loyal reader(s?), I’m so sorry I haven’t left you with much cud to chew on lately. It’s just that every minute that I haven’t spent obsessing about buying food, cooking food, eating food and digesting food has been otherwise spent obsessing about how to ditch this boring, snoring corporate gig I wandered into 18 months ago. Lately the day job’s been soul-suckingly crappy. Not in the work-your-fingers-to-the-bone-and-get-treated-like-shit type of way that I hear a lot of other folks in the elevator bitch about. It’s more like the show-up-twiddle-your-thumbs-and-feel-your-life’s-essence-slowly-wither-with-every-tick-of-the-clock sort of way. Dude, these are precious moments I won’t get back! Seriously, the only time the phone rings at this job is when somebody is trying to call their gynecologist and accidentally dials our number instead.

I’ve been imagining what it would be like not to have to walk through this building every day. Oh sure, the first floor with its enormous breast-shaped light fixtures is always good for a giggle each morning and I would probably miss it. (Yes, there are GIANT BOOBS hanging from the ceiling downstairs. And they light up!) But I wouldn’t miss the humiliation of having to take an elevator to the 2nd floor. That’s right – an ELEVATOR takes me to my office on the 2nd floor. Not because I’m lazy but because I could be a terrorist and building security doesn’t want terrorists using the stairwell. Yes it’s true; my workplace is indeed the last bastion of logic – well, almost.

Rather than wallow in frustration and self-pity I’ve decided to take action and set a deadline for getting my ass out of here. (Ordinarily I’d be wallowing in Dove Bars and pie but this cleanse has me feeling quite spiffy - and I’m not ready to fuck up the spiffiness just yet.) So the deadline is my birthday. That’s September 15th for any of you who would like to send gifts. Gifts are always much appreciated and are also great insurance against me going all Lindsay Lohan on you and saying nasty things on the blog.

For the time being, my escape plan is still a little nebulous but I’ll keep you posted as progress is made. Vive la revolution!