Special Times with Jack

I just finished crying at my desk.  Weeping, really.  Even Foxy noticed the tears that were streaming down my cheeks.  I tried to hide them but it was too late.  No my eye make-up is all jacked up.  Looks like I haven’t slept in ages-that’s gonna leave a really great impression at my next meeting.

Foxy and I were in my cubicle having a chat when Jack interrupted.  He was holding up an empty box of treats that Foxy had brought in this morning.  Shaking it at us he said,

“Foxy, I’m gonna rip up your box.”

Foxy, Lit’l Smokey, and I immediately exploded into laughter.  The kind that leaves you in tears, unable to breathe, or make any sound. 

God, I’m so mature!

Let’s Make a Pact

Not one of those psycho suicide pacts where we all drink the kool-aid or where we put on or new white sneakers, cover ourselves up and take some poison so we can all leave our vessels and journey on to the next level.  No, not like that. 

This is a pact where we will exhibit good manners. 

Here it is.  Are you ready for it?  Let’s promise one another that if we see a friend with food in his/her teeth, that we will tell him/her, “Hey, friend.  You have food stuck in your teeth.”  Sure, if you want to mock him/her afterwards, by all means, go to town.  Just don’t let him/her walk around like a total freaking douche bag for the rest of the day.

This evening I went to dinner with my friend, KK.  She declined to mention that it looked like I had dipped one of my teeth into black tar.  Yeah, thanks grilled romaine salad for making me look like my teeth were rotting out of my mouth.  And thank you, KK, for letting me give the restaurant manager a big toothy grin on the way out.  Now I know why he recoiled in horror.

Rage Against This

There are several musicians/bands that make my skin crawl.  One of them-perhaps the worst of the worst-is on the radio right this very second.  Note how I’m too lazy to get up, cross the room, and change the station.  Instead, I shall bitch to you about my hatred for said “musical” group.

Have you ever noticed that EVERY SINGLE SONG by Rage Against the Machine sounds EXACTLY alike??  Every single one is Zack what’s-his-face shreaking and yelling.  Me no likey.  He reminds me of a cat in heat.  A very loud screachy cat in heat.  Why do people want to listen to that? 

Oh joy, the song is now over and followed by another band that I hate: Green Day.  I don’t care what road you walk along.  Also, don’t care about your shadow being the only one that walks beside you.  Don’t care.

This is the pain and suffering that one goes through for being so lazy.  I’m on the verge of throwing myself down the stairs. Problem is that I’d have to get up to do that, and I’d pass the stereo on the way and changing the station would save me.  Maybe I’ll just visualize throwing myself down the stairs…

There is one musician that would have me flying across the room-literally flying.  Neil Young singing sounds like nails on the chalkboard.  Seriously, my ears bleed any time I’m forced to listen to him.

That is all.