Thursday, December 12

I promised an old friend with a disfunctional blog that I would share one of the wonders of the uberweb with my adoring fan base. Friends, feast your eyes on Ill Mitch. Note how he "very politely" neglects to show his nipples in any of the photos. I propose that he doesn't actually have nipples. You be the judge.
Tonight was the Oshkosh B'Gosh family holiday gathering. And by family, I mean, only those people who are employed by B'Gosh may attend. I won a plant, that, I just realized, I left in the car to die. Sorry, Jen. I should have just given it to you for your cat to eat and get sick on. The event was the epitome of work clique-iness. I was the only person I saw there that wasn't sitting with their department, or former department in the case of the new woman I work with who sat with Customer Service and her real friends from that floor. I was abducted by select members of the shrinking art department, and we spent most of the evening alternating between playing "make the pregnant girl puke" (although maybe only I noticed that part, as I was sitting next to her) and "let's see how much we can drink without turning in a drink ticket". Also there was nearly continuous ripping on others, always a good time. And the bonding over the love of Journey. Don't stop believing. Unless what you're believing is that the DJ is actually going to play "Baby Got Back", 'cause he's not. Someone got "a little tipsy", and lost a quarter or two when we got to Peabody's. And her purse. But I probably shouldn't bring that up. No one else from OKB showed, which was fine by me. Especially no one with a strange walk. Jen is hyper-sensitive to the way people walk, so you may want to keep that in mind if you're ever trying to make an impression. Not that people can help how they walk, but that might just make it better fodder for insults, I'm not sure. There was kid who's walk we made fun of from the minute he moved to town when I was little. Man, kids can be cruel. Now he has kids. I hope they don't have walks worthy of a John Cleese reference.
Anyway. I think I've blogged nearly everything I thought I should. Except that telling people "Now you're just being offensive" is much funnier than "Now you're being defensive". Oh, and having nearly no one at work tomorrow will be really interesting. At least nobody will be there to tell me not to leave to take Chia back to the vet. Again. Cross your fingers that the little guy will be eating by then. This is just getting ridiculous and terrible. Ugh.


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