November
10, 2003
Today is the day to sing into an air mike.
Thank your lucky stars. Today you get to read:
"Why I Get Out Of Bed And Go To Work Every Morning"
Conversation 1:
Me: This is just ridiculous. It's Friday afternoon. I really shouldn't be doing any work. And engaging anyone with email today is about as easy as eating a baby's teeth and taking their candy.
Roommate: Eating a baby's teeth. Vomit. You make me ill.
Me: Please. You totally eat baby's teeth.
Roommate: Crrrrrrrunchy!
Me: No, soft and tiny. Much like their skulls. Yum!
Roommate: Honestly, I prefer the soft spot to the teeth.
Conversation 2:
Me: F the whales, man.
Roommate: I mean really, what's wrong with those assholes? They're just so fat. And they're always beaching themselves. Jackasses.
Me: And they have BLOWHOLES.
Roommate: Oooo, I'm in the mood to spear me some whale!
Me: THAR SHE BLOWS!
Conversation #3:
Roommate: This is an actual sentence from a report I am editing for this place: "Mr. Takaku has extensive experience working with political leaders, as well as a fondness for Kansas."
Me: You got something to say about Kansas, bitch?
Roommate: I'll Kansas you!
Me: Clever comeback, dude.
Conversation #4:
Me: What's up, Mr. Takaku?
Roommate: Domo Arigato, Mr. Takaku.
Me: That's Mr. ROBOTO, to you, asshole.
Conversation #5:
Co-Worker: I neglected to identify the fax that I sent to Amy, so please let her know that when she receives the photo of a man in a field with a handgun, she is not being stalked.
Have a good weekend.