This Week Will Blow

Ever since I got a real life job and began working the regular 5 day work week, I’ve learned that having Mondays off because of random government holidays is ball breakingly bad.

Having a Monday off just starts the following Tuesday morning off with this feeling of Oh shit, I’m so behind in everything about my life. And for the rest of the week you feel like you’re playing catch-up and the work week is more ridiculous than you ever thought it could be.

All I have to say is that I really hope there are several happy hour trips this week, because I feel in times like this, it’s the sauce that keeps you in the game.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

My boss Colleen sent me this, so I’m passing on the love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 It’s funny because we work with a Peggy. And gosh, is she a whore.

Sorry, Chantelles Of The World

My boss and I are obsessed with the discovery of the recent 15 year old mom and 13 year old dad…

Chan: did you like how the girl’s name is Chantelle?

Me: i think the girl’s name couldn’t be anything other than Chantelle

Chan: I’ve never met a Chantelle I’ve liked

Me: i’ve never met a Chantelle that wasn’t pregnant by 15

Cool Bible Cover

Yeah, you read that correctly.

Courtney sent me this really cool redesign of the cover of the Bible, and I think it’s just super awesome.

I’m so jealous of people who can do shit like this. I mean, my lewd drawings barely even offend the average person.

Head on over to Crush to see more of their work.

What’s Up, 1990’s?

Everyone, this song is stuck in my head and has been for like, years now. No joke. It randomly pops by to say hiya and then disappears, and I won’t sully our relationship by lying to you and saying it bothers me. Because it doesn’t.

Not An Addict by K’s Choice

Now let’s go smoke and eat some Wendy’s or something in Central Park.

UPDATE: I hate mp3’s because they are unreliable and never do what you tell them. I’ll fix the link shortly.

Fuck it. Internet fail. Here’s the video. Go here and it will play. Gah, I’m so annoyed.

Stop It, Dreams

I have these dreams about flying, but one of them happens a hell of a lot more often than any of the good ones. So feel free to comment about what this means about me as a person.

In this dream, I’m flying, but not in the fun way. The fun way, to me, is flying through the air, arms outstretched as you shoot through clouds, zip past buildings and pull off wicked awesome loopty loops. Crazy awesome stuff that most people think of when they look back at their flying dreams.

But no, that rarely happens to me. Instead, I’m flying around the playground of my old elementary school, but in order to stay aloft, I have to keep flapping my arms like I’m trying to fan out fires. I don’t have wings or anything. Not even two long planks of wood attached to my arms. No, I’m just flapping my arms like an idiot to stay afloat. Oh, also, I’m dressed as a Christmas tree.

And that’s not even the weird part. Which is funny to say, because right now, you have the picture of me in your head, flapping, dressed in this felt Christmas suit with a star on my head, floating around an elementary school playground. And I think that in most situations that would be the weird part. But no. The weird part is that there are HORDES of children underneath me, jumping and reaching and trying to touch and grab and poke and pull me.

No matter where I try to direct my flight path, they stay right underneath me. And the worst part is that I’m slowly sinking lower and lower and lower. You guys, I start to panic in the dream. Like, I’m freaking out because my flapping isn’t doing a damn bit of good, possibly because the weight of the Christmas tree suit is weighing me down, and an army of children are waiting for me to descend so they can, most likely, rip me apart.

This is like, 6th circle of hell shit right here. The dream never lasts long enough that I end up actually falling into the hands of the children, but rather I end up sinking right above them, and then I wake up.

This dream frustrates me so much, you guys, it’s not even funny. In the beginning sure, it was kinda funny to be all I’m a flying tree, hooray! but now it’s all Those kids are going to reach for presents and I don’t think I’m wearing clothes under this felt Christmas tree suit, and that is an issue none of us should have to deal with.

So yeah. I just want to fucking fly in my dreams. Is that too much to ask for?

This Is My Shit

I’m obsessed with giving high fives. You can ask anyone in my office or life or who has passed me on the street late at night while I’ve been intoxicated. Having the gift of high fives is God’s way of letting us know ‘Hey, I think about you, and it’s all nice things, too’.

Secret high five trick for you guys. If you stare at the other person’s elbow you’re high fiving, you won’t miss the high five. In fact, BOTH of you could stare at the other person’s elbow, and you’d still make the high five. I’m telling you, God WANTS us to high five. There is no other explanation for it.

High fives are that freaking awesome. End of story. High five!

via Buzzfeed

Another Day

I’m trying to expand my music library right now. I love music so much, and I’ve been wanting to find an artist or CD that will act as my next aural drug for so long, my withdrawals are getting to be unbearable.

There are CD’s that I could listen to day after day and still never tire of them, and I love that. Every time some song starts, I feel like I’m wrapping myself up in a blanket and just letting the song surround me. It’s a familiar feeling that gets better every time I listen to my favorite artists.

So I’ve been actively hunting down new music in the hopes of finding another obsession. Someone else to add to my personal list of musical immortals. It’s too early to tell, but Jamie Lidell could be the one I’m looking for…

I wish I could set my own theme music, because this would be the song that would play as I got out of bed and headed to shower. I’m not positive, but I think you’d have to be a soulless murderer [or be as morally reprehensible as one] to not enjoy this song. It’s like hating puppies or hugs or high fives.

Head on over here to buy JIM. Unless you hate puppies, you’ll do it.

This Bothered Me All Of Yesterday

How come when you see a superhero flying to a disaster or a fight or even just to visit a friend, they know exactly where they’re going? Like, how does that make sense? If you told Superman that there was trouble a brewin’ somewhere Montana, how does he know where to fly to right away? Does he get lost along the way, and we just don’t see that part in comic books?

What if it’s one of those square states? That must get confusing flying over those, because I know when I’m flying cross country it looks like one big field to me.

Also, what about Spider-Man? When he swings from building to building, it must get pretty difficult to keep track of what street he’s going over. And if that’s the case, what happens if he’s rushing to 59th and Lex, but loses count and instead busts into a building at like, 58th and Lex? What type of hullabaloo is caused because of that mistake?

Just because they can fly and stuff doesn’t mean they have GPS all up in their system. I’m curious, that’s all.

Slowly Pushing The Envelope

One of my co-workers received two enormous boxes the other day. No return address, no note attached, nothing. Just two huge boxes that when opened, revealed about 40 pairs of gorilla slippers.

I know, you guys, I freaked out too. You can’t buy that type of happiness. Or I guess in this case you could, and in this case happiness is priced at 40 pairs of gorilla slippers.

So of course I have a pair, internet. And the first thing I do when I get into work is slip into my ultra comfortable gorilla slippers and work through the rest of the day. Meetings, lunch, status calls…I wear them most everywhere.

The eventual plan is to incorporate as much sleep wear into my work wardrobe as possible, slowly morphing from my comfortable work attire of jeans and sweaters into an even more comfortable t-shirt, robe and pajama bottoms ensemble.

Maybe someday even naked Fridays!

Baby steps, John. Baby steps.

photo courtesy of Gillian