Spinning, Squeaking, Cussing and Tears

Things I learned this week:

• While Bossman gets points for volume while throwing his early morning cussing fits, he really could stand to work on his vocabulary. If you're going to be spitting out ten word strings of profanity, it helps to know more than three four letter wordy dirties.
• If I over sleep and show up to work without makeup, Bossman will always ask if I've got a weird rash on my face. This knowledge should come in handy should I ever decide I need some time off or just want to keep people out of my cubicle.
• Margaret Cho can make a dildo cry. I really don't want to know what kind of abuse she subjects it to, nor do I wish to explain how I gained this knowledge. I just felt it needed to be shared.
• Lulu, who is usually a delicate, demure flower, can funk up a bathroom like nobody's business. Especially when I'm standing in the hall doing the peepee dance, waiting for the office one-seater to become available. Unfortunately, Lulu's not the kind of friend I can confront and say, "Dayum.. what crawled up your ass and died?" so I'll just put it here, on the internet, for the rest of the world to see.
• When faced with impending death, your last thoughts aren't what you'd think. Especially when you're on the toilet and blow your severely congested nose, resulting in a high pitched squeal coming from your left ear. As the room begins to spin and your field of vision narrows, you don't think of loved ones, unfinished business or the realization that you're ending your life as a lonely spinster... no. As you put a death grip on the counter, granny panties around your ankles and head spinning, you fight for your life because you know you heard Bubbles' Bubbahubby on the scanner earlier and when the Amazon staggers into the bathroom at the butt crack of dawn, finding you dead on the throne and calling 911, it's Bubbles' Bubbahubby who'll show up in the ambulance.

Not that anything like that happened..

The weekend's almost here. Hang in there.

Later Taters!