O incompetence

You’re all in luck, I am pretty freaking incoherent today. A heady blend of dayquil and giant starbucks latte is coursing through my veins. My eyes are glassy, I can barely hear a damn thing save a dull roaring, which could be my monitor or possibly the voices screwing with me. It would be easy to sneak up on me and scare me if anyone were so inclined. And what do I have to do today? Lots of busy work. Print shit out. On the scary big “tabloid” sized paper. Use a 3-hole puncher. I should probably swear off using the paper cutter. Yes, normally I do fairly complimicated technical work, but these days I am the secretary. Secreting everywhere. And it’s not even like I have James Spader for a boss!

Speaking of amputation, it is my fondest wish to have my little toes removed. They serve no purpose, and they make it hard to wear fashionable shoes! I’m not talking about any kind of accident, I want full anesthesia, a reputable cosmetic surgeon, and a prescription for some top-notch drugs for my extensive recovery period. Yes, I want it to look like they were never even there. Tootsies as smooth and gleaming as other parts of my anatomy.

Lambchop, I have set out a bolt of the finest burlap, and it is my fervent hope that the gnomes will scurry out and whip up a flouncy frock for you! I’ve called several bridal supply stores, and they were a bit brusque as they informed me they did not carry any live animals, nor do they have any truck with burlap. I guess we’re going to have to do this ourselves.

In other news, my sister is being stalked by a crazed Saved By the Bell fan! Godspeed, li’l tofu boots!


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