My drug of choice: irony.
What's your weapon of choice?
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
My drug of choice: irony.
What's your weapon of choice?
What's your weapon of choice?
My rapier-sharp wit.
Oh, wait. I forgot I'm not Oscar Wilde.
Oh, wait. I forgot I'm not Oscar Wilde.
So both you and the wallpaper can stay....
::gropes Suzi idly for good measure::
idly, eh?
I have to work on Monday, but that's OK because on holidays they let us watch movies on our computers. All the guys around me are playing games anyway.
I don't think I mentioned this here, one evening last week a girl fell down the back stairs from our second floor tech support room and broke her ankle in three places (I was the only one upstairs and I heard her faintly calling for help, heaven knows how long she might have lain there). Management got a "Agh! We've got people with known medical conditions upstairs, it'll be one of them breaking something next!" bug, so they moved a bunch of us downstairs. I'm now in a lovely back-corner cubical with no one across the aisle from me, the flourescent fixture above me has had the tubes removed, and no one casually wanders by. All I need is a bit of natural light to be happy.
idly, eh?
idyll-y?
Sox, I wish I knew of a mystery blog like that! I would love to find one.
hmm.
Let's make one! ::wildly optimistic::
::gropes Suzi with INTENT this time::
Better?
I'm now in a lovely back-corner cubical with no one across the aisle from me, the flourescent fixture above me has had the tubes removed, and no one casually wanders by. All I need is a bit of natural light to be happy.
Nice. You should'a pushed her down the stairs a long time ago.
Nice. You should'a pushed her down the stairs a long time ago.
As it is, you should thank her for taking one for the team.
As it is, you should thank her for taking one for the team.
She sent me a nice email thanking me for holding her hand while we waited for the ambulance and I told her about my new space. The dark corner is especially nice, because we never turned the lights on upstairs. All of us were apparently mole people who were happy working away in the dark.
Yes, there were lights on in the stairway, we're not idiots, and none of us wanted to be the ones to break our ankles.