What You Are Laughing At

Comedian Up

I can't say "Cowboy Up" because I don't like snoose.
I'm finally getting close to feeling funny again. I think there are a number of changes coming my way, good ones. First of all, Shoogs B in the house Whaddup? got a jay oh bee. That doesn't affect me directly unless I don't get my tie and jacket back. TAKE OFF MY TIE AND JACKET. Right On Shoogs.

Second, I'm in a relationship with a kick-ass woman, and as it nears the 6-month mark I'm seeing some of my old habits die. Die hard, but they are making their way to the great Bad Habit bin at St. Scott Weiland de Structo's 2nd-Hand Habit Hut. I'm done with so much of the crap that happens in some emotional crossings-over. It sucks that we live a 150-mile rounder from each other, but that all goes away with a few minutes eye-to-eye. Key to making it work? At this point, for me, not f*cking it up. Swing that bat, Dr. Phil.

Third, well, I don't know here. I'm just ready to get the heck away from my job for a while. I need a week, at least. Pivot Tables suck, people. OK? They suck ass. There's no reason, really, that this company needs a pivot table of any sort. IT IS GOING TO DIE! Please get the rouge and the good jacket, let's give it a proper burial, then we can drink at the wake and lament how long it was around. Mangerially driven into the ground, and I'm paying for it everytime I roll in here at the bright hour of 9:47-ish.

Fourth, get outta there. Go have some fun.

Going to Vegas on Friday. Gonna gamble and drink drinks and not set a record for Salmonella-induced rocket vomiting.

Taters


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