sobering up on the red line

My co-worker has one nipple pointing straight up toward the sky like a baby bird seeking sustenance. I tried to alert her to this fact by casting pointed looks in its direction and so far she is not picking up on my girl vibes. I am so bad at coming straight out and saying "HEY YOU GOT SOME NIP THERE" that I wish I could just discreetly pass her a note.

If I have to pass by another "headline" about Lindsey Lohan on what is supposed to be a legitimate news site I am going to drive to Los Angeles and staple her to a bottle of Antabuse.

"Hey yo, this train smell like SHIT! Or like... some bad queso fundido or something."

If you are going to be that angry guy that yells on the train I think that you should stand your ground or else stop yelling altogether.

For lunch today I would like to be offered the rest of the day off.

Then I would like a pony.

"God you're TALL. How TALL are you?? You're so TALL. I'll bet you're taller than all the men! Jesus you're TALL."

"My God you are substantially overweight. I never noticed it before but you have seriously got some fucking junk in the trunk there. Also your ears are rather prominent. And did anyone ever tell you that you have a sort of wonky eye? It just sort of zips off to the side without warning, funny how it does that. But yes, I am tall, freakishly tall. Thank you for pointing that out."

---

"Miller, could you-"

"NO. Take that fucking paperwork and shove it up your fat fucking ass."

"Excuse m-"

"LALALALALALALALA-"

"You're fi-"

"EAT ME, you bottom-feeding bald loser."

---

Am I having a rough day a work? You could say that.

For some reason this morning I am thinking about the jukebox at Simon's in Andersonville which is a supreme little dive if ever there was. Great selection, good tunes.

I don't even live near there and I've only even been there a scant few times but the powers that be have made me so hungry for a decent tune by playing their crappy seventies elevator music that I've started to become a little dazed and disoriented.

I think it should be Punk Rock Thursday and that we should all get down to some nasty nasty headbanging in our respective offices. Or how about Gangsta Rap Friday tomorrow? I have a couple of NWA albums that are just itching to get some play.

I would singlehandedly slay an entire department full of middle management with a Swingline stapler for an office jukebox.

You would not even have to ask me twice.

I am back. I am well aware that I was sorely missed and that much weeping and rending of garments has been going on in my absence, so please feel free to direct all glory, laud, and Paypal monies to the comments which may or may not be working. I have no idea what the protocol is for long-missing bloggers.

During my hiatus I have been doing the usual which is toiling away for the powers that be, going to a lot of rock shows, shaking my fist in anger in regards to the unrighteousness of The Man. I have also been drinking a lot of beer, never fear.

I am dating someone whom I loathe the idea of giving a clever blog nickname to although I suppose I must be all stealth and protect my super secret identity, so let us call him Joe. Joe is good so far but so are all men until they morph into their true freakish subversive sloppy mother-obsessive selves.

I am only joking.


I think.

Anyway I am glad to be back and I hope to dazzle you all with my brilliance and beer breath more frequently.

All two of you.