Tonight a bunch of people in my office are going out for drinks, aka happy hour. Happy hour. I want to spend an hour drinking in a bar with people I see all day. Uh, okay. My boss is the organizer, the cheer leader, the cowboy rounding us all up to go. She's gung ho about it too, so I feel more than obliged. We used to have a co-worker who refused to do anything with us. When we went to lunch, nah... don't wanna. We all went out as a group one night, nah... don't wanna. And that kind of bummed my boss out. She likes to do stuff outside the office with us, and sometimes pays... usually when we've kicked ass on a project. If I were a betting man I'd say I'll get a beer out of her tonight... because I did kick ass on two projects. So we're all going out. It's also for people leaving, which hasn't happened much in the past several months, so it's a good reason.
The sick thing is, waiting for me at home when I get there is a brand new washing machine, and I am eager to get home and check out its washing abilities. I am officially old.
My office is freezing today. The air conditioning in this building is touchy. Either you've got Africa Hot or Cape Horn/Tierra del Fuego Freezing. Today, it is the latter. I wore a sundress today, black with little purple flowers. And I got in here to discover that the only item of clothing I had in the office is an old old old flannel shirt, which is red and black plaid.
So I look like a complete mental defective today. I wish I had the digicam so I could take a picture of me, stylin in my sundress and flannel...Kind of Carrot Top style.
Speaking of Carrot Top, have you checked him out lately in those TV commercials for that stupid collect calling thing he's shilling for? Did he have facial reconstructive surgery or is he wearing the most horrible make up in the universe??? I'm horribly disturbed by him. I used to think he was clever and funny and entertaining but I am thinking he's falling into bad ways of cosmetic surgery, and lies, and drug abuse. Like Michael Jackson. Or Liz Taylor. His level of celebrity is that high. I give you the following as evidence:
Folks, This Disturbs Me To No End.
Anyway, it is just about beer time, I have 10 minutes to finish this up. I have more Gayle pictures, heh heh, and other more substantial things to talk about, but right now, just think about poor Carrot Top, his career, the makeup, the surgeries, and the shame of it all.
And I will leave you with this:
While surfing for the cute little graphic for the top left spot, I came across this. The guy on the right looks like Iggy Pop, the guy on the left looks sorta like someone I know who I personally doubt would be begging for beer money. They both look hard up for a room, wink wink nudge nudge say no MORE!
Iwondered if this wasn't a posed picture, but the rest of the photo is kind of super scummy with a bum sleeping on the bench to the far right and lots of trash under their feet, and they do look like official bums. I feel bad because they're advertising for beer money, when hard oldman liquor gets your shiznit messed up faster. Somoene should tell them that. But the piece de resistance is the bottom of their cardboard sign...
They added "PLEASE!" Which if you read it one way is them being polite, in another them being desperate. But at least they said please. I've been accosted by bums who swear at me, call me names, throw stuff at me because I don't give them any money. I even have a great story where a cab driver rescued my ass from a bum at an ATM machine on Mass Ave in Boston about 10 years ago this month. (oh, my. That long ago???), which I will regale you with later. But these guys said please, so if I'd'a seen'em, I'd'a given'em some money.