An Honest Question

It’s almost Valentine’s Day! Where is my candy? I would buy it myself but I usually wait until the sales start. Since it’s a recession though, I am hoping the sales are starting the day before the holiday in question. Regardless, soon to nomnomnom!!!

So many choices, all the time in the world!
photo courtesy of Flickr and Euromagic

*Drool pool*
photo courtesy of Flickr and Darwin Bell

This dog also showed up when I searched for ‘Chocolates.’ This canine purports to be a ‘chocolate collie.’ For the record, I would not consume this dog.
photo courtesy of Flickr and foxypar4

All in a Day’s Smirk

Yesterday, I was incomprehensibly rude to somebody but I only realized it in retrospect. So now I am wearing my remorseful hindsight goggles. I had to walk with someone for a few minutes because we were both going the same way to our respective cars. So I tried overloading my brain with stuff to talk about so as not to have an awkward convo on the way over there.

What ended up happening was I kept interrupting him when he was making small talk with vast overly personal stories that left no room for another person’s input or even reaction.

In case you thought that was bad, then I got to my car first and instead of offering to drive him to his car, I said “Well, see you later!” and then glibly hopped in my vehicle and zoomed away. Once I had driven for about 5 blocks I caught sight of him still trudging steadily onward toward his car. I am the worst!

Not to mention I had a 20-minute ride home and he had an hour-plus drive.

Oh well. I wonder if there are yield signs in purgatory. You thought I’d say hell! How dare all (two) of you.

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Also there is one lone Smartie lying in the middle of the hallway outside my office. I can’t even take a picture of it, the sight is so sad. Darkest omen of Halloween I’ve ever seen…

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I figured out today that I am an office whisperer. When I pass someone in the hallway at work, I smile and usually immediately lower my eyes toward ground. That’s standard procedure. No biggie.

But today, I realized when I do actually say something to them, in the form of a greeting or a “how do you do,” I always whisper it. So as not to anger the productivity gods, I would imagine.

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My coworkers practically called me a genius today after coming up with our department theme costume for this year’s office Halloween costume contest.

It is a fairly simplistic, as-yet-confidential idea but they acted like I just pondered the theory of relativity while inventing electricity.

We then spent a nice inordinate amount of time coordinating how best to execute this group costume. I, and I think I speak for everybody, was thrilled.

I never really understand group costumes…or I never get them right away…

Here are some examples (in that last one, I think a woman is wearing blackface, but I’m not sure):

photo courtesy of Flickr and bradleyolin


photos courtey of Flickr and RBerteig

Injured Sniff

i had a bloody nose for a lot of last week. not a serious one. not like my nose was having its period. just some occasional spotting. anyway. the point is, despite last week’s non-incidents involving red rivers and my nose, this week my nose is scarred on the inside. it’s like a battlefield. the problem is when i try and snog all the snuff out of it, it’s like pins and needles up in there. who decided nostril scar tissue would be sharp and pointy? please. who decided that?

that’s the question of the week. i’m putting it on the table. let’s see how long it stays there before some namby-pamby comes in and brushes it off as inappropriate and gross. my main query is shouldn’t nostril scar tissue be soft and malleable? wouldn’t that be a win-win for everyone?

blowing my nose right now is equivalent to stabbing it repeatedly with pieces of itself. do you see the problem here, anybody? specifically darwin?

oh, speaking of tissues of import, check it out charles! the putty-noses are hitting the books!

best candy name ever discovered at a movie theater this weekend:

Like Giving Candy to a Baby…

it’s weird because i have a joke about candy and expiration dates so you would think i would take the matter seriously. but no, i went ahead and ate a questionably old baby reese’s pb cup today. it wasn’t even mine. i just found it in an office mug. before instinct could kick in, i unwrapped it and dropped it into the unsuspecting abyss. as i was smacking my jaw awaiting the happy peanut butter resolution to the chocolatey action adventure, i began sputtering in anger and disillusionment. the chocolate was waxy, and the peanut buttery center had changed to 99% sawdust and broken dreams!


bag o’fear
photo courtesy of Flickr and Banalities

anyway, i’ve been having pretty standard epic-movie visions since consumption.

if you have any queries/concerns/suggestions about the apocalpyse, please direct them to me. satisfactory answers available only while symptoms last! void where inhibited.