Team Murder No Brain No Headache.


Sometimes I Kick Puppies Too

At the end of this day, the work day that is, I can only summarize by saying that it was the embodiment of every cliche about Monday from every bad comic strip ever written. The moment that absolutely capped the day was getting yelled at by a retiree who apparently wasn't being notified (by snail mail, much less) about summer picnics her former department was holding. I hit the mute button more times than I could have imagined was humanly possible over the course of a three or so minute call before haphazardly tossing her through the cold phone lines (also completely indifferent to whether or not she received picnic invitations) to the embrace of her former workplace. Fighting the urge to say "Well, maybe they just don't want your grey and decrepit ass befouling their picnic" was really what reminded me that I am mean and closely related in psychological makeup at least to the reptilian family of horrible monsters that regard other life forms only as a potential source of food. Still, fuck, picnics may be missed. Fly the flag at half mast for chrissakes.

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