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stimulating young minds

The other day at work, I was scurrying back from a break, my arms laden with things (as is the usual for me – book, computer, hairstyling products) and a tween flagged me down to talk to me, but seemed to lose the ability to form coherent speech when I turned to listen to him. It wasn’t until I was walking away that I looked down and noticed that the hairspray bottle I was carrying had nestled between my breasts with its label out, reading “SEXY.”

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sad break room realization #163

sad break room realization #163: When you work Saturday instead of Friday.

Weird-Tasting Leftovers Lunch is just an unnecessary reminder of how much more fun and delicious yesterday was than today.

Don’t you want to buy some glasses now?

How much do we love the time-honored tradition of taking ridiculously glamorous people and putting super nerdy glasses on them to advertise vision services?

did you know libraries are chock full of crazy

I bring you a live report from the public desk at the city library. I am entitling it: “I’m tired of the disgusting coughing and strange questions here this week.” OR “My compassion limit is maxed out for your TB and questions about the satanic bible.” Both the title and contents are all Cupcake’s words, unless otherwise noted.

[me: How’s work?]

Well in total, this week the staff here has dealt with:

  • is my apartment haunted can you find news stories about suicides that occurred there in your archives
  • where can I find a witch doctor
  • can you find a copy of the satanic bible for me
  • how much room is at the end of a condom
  • OH and what can I do if I think someone has put a spell on me.

Sigh.

I am worn out from the crazy.

[me: Wow. Must be October.]

Also the other day this lady came up to a librarian and shouted a name at him in a mean and angry way. Then just stood there. Turns out it was the name of an author she was looking for.

WHAT IS WITH PEOPLE?

I feel like it’s increasingly my job to manage othe people’s bad behavior.

[me: Yeah. Sometimes being a librarian is like being a 2nd grade teacher for adults. I am typing your tirade into a post as we speak, by the way.]

Thanks.

A scary man just gave me a weird look.

Guys’ Night

There is one quarter of a pound of 100% prime black angus fighting its way out of my stomach.

Guys’ Night!

Jungle Cat is in B-town, which means a get-together is in order. Guys’ Night! I’m talking Jungle Cat, who is on a professional guy business trip, and Hot Lunch, who recently got delivered two simultaneous issues of Men’s Health… these guys are ALL GUY. So I am full-on prepared to guy it up. I suggest the Ram, where we can drink brewskis and watch sports. Guys’ Night! I instigate “Chicks, man” conversations such as “Chicks, man, they’re so unpredictable with their emotions.” Guys’ Night! And, “Chicks, man, why don’t they treat their cars better… would you leave old Burger King wrappers in your living room?” GUYS’  NIGHT! And, “Chicks, man. They pretend to be happy wives and mothers for 16 years and then suddenly start acting like teenagers and sleeping with random losers and playing the victim when you’re not totally ok with it.”

Guys’? Night?

Man, serious undertones and elephants in the room can really bring down Guys’ Night. Take two guys who were recently screwed over in the exact same way by their now ex-wives and add to it that one of them happens to be the guy who months ago tore my heart out and put it back in and tore it out again and put it back and– To battle the mindgame of talking about broken hearts with mine sitting right there next to me, I did what any guy would do on Guys’ Night. I stepped up my drinking.

Guys’ Night!

Guys’ Night ends at 9pm when Hot Lunch has to go relieve the babysitter and Jungle Cat has an early morning conference to prepare for and I’m tottering back to the car between them, confusing my words and talking loudly about personal things. Our waiter says more than once pointedly, “Have a safe night.” At the time I was confused as to why he was warning us about drunk driving when I was clearly the only one inebriated. Now, looking back on it I feel scandalized that maybe he was referring to the fact that I was the only one inebriated. Just drunk little old me in my silk dress and two guy friends and no panties. (Nothing ruins Guys’ Night like VPL.)

Guys’… Night?

Don’t worry, waiter, I choose my friends carefully. Even the dipshits like Hot Lunch are good guys. We dropped Jungle Cat off at his hotel and me off at my apartment, where I very calmly told Hot Lunch, “Not having you around has left a huge gaping hole in my life… …Welp, good night,” and then refused to let him walk me to my door. He still tried to walk me to my door (some nonsense about it being so DARK out) and so we ended up doing this awkward thing with me doing a fast drunk walk to try to leave him behind and him following along like a really sheepish predator.

Guys’ Night.

Sometimes, you just gotta be a guy and do those guy things, like eating meat and talking about titties and watching ball-related activities in HD and passing out from booze and sobbing at about 10:15pm, then waking up at 2 am too disoriented to know anything except that a large amount of alcohol-and-stress-soaked free-range beef is making up its mind which is the fastest route out of your body. You know, guy stuff.

Two rounds of Alka-Seltzer and a huge deuce is the Guys’ Night cure, according to Men’s Health. Then the hot, angry beer and burger bomb in your stomach might finally ease down enough from code red for you to fall back to sleep for a couple hours before you have to get up and go back to your job.

GUYS’ NIGHT!

Forward Progress

I have something to admit, Reader. I started another blog. I know, I feel like I’ve betrayed you. First I give you a blog promising sexual references but delivering actually more poop jokes, then I start writing a WHOLE OTHER BLOG. And there’s no sex on this other blog, either. There’s a simple reason for that and it’s mainly because no one wants to make sex with me right now. But just because I’m temporarily knocked out of the dating game doesn’t mean you should be deprived of the ENTERTAINING AND SALACIOUS CONTENT that discerning, naughty readers like you deserve to expect!

And that’s why I started Forward Progress. Actually I didn’t start Forward Progress because I have no love life, but rather because the football season is starting, which conveniently distracts me from my lack of love life. And there’s not actually anything salacious on there… just some lame drawings. LAME DRAWINGS! You know what that means! It means I am continuing my DRAW ONE THING challenge on the new blog because it fits my desire to always make FORWARD PROGRESS in life.

And conveniently, FORWARD PROGRESS is also a term in football! See, already a DOUBLE ENTENDRE, sexy readers!

Oh and did I mention I’m secretly crazy about football? Click over there and read all about it!

Ostrich: Sands of Time

Just saw Prince of Persia: Sands of Time tonight and my favorite thing in the whole movie was the ostrich. My favorite thing WOULD have been Jake Gyllenhaal if he had taken his shirt off more (or AT ALL), but since he didn’t, the ostrich gets #1. The ostrich had its shirt off the ENTIRE TIME. It doesn’t have anti-shirtless pretentions rooted in its early indy cred and Donnie Darko. It doesn’t rely on dreamily batting the ridiculous lashes of its moony gorgeous eyes. Although it could. It COULD.