my post-modern cubicle.

My file cabinet collapsed this afternoon. My papers went flying everywhere.

Now, when I look to my left, I see a sideways file cabinet, with no files in it. It's very post-modern.

Man, I am the most hip tax accountant in the world.

Rejuvenating the Legends

I posted this in the literature forum I'm obsessed with. The subject was "Write a Really Really Short Story in 50 Words or Less."


"I'm gonna build a really tall statue. A monument."
"Why?"
"Why not?"
"Because you're not an architect. Because you're broke. Because nobody cares."
"Shut up. It's my lifelong dream."
"I bet you just made it up now."
"So what if I did?"
"You're an idiot."
"It's gonna be Bob Saget."

a fond fairwell to a friend

As I sit in training for my job, I recall a dramatic moment between myself and a special somebody who was very close to me...

I was looking up and realized that a piece of my hair had come out and was floating in the air. I blew on it gently and it went up toward the ceiling.

Goodbye, friend. See you in the dust particles of this building.

an every day occurrence

Every day at work, I hear somebody talking, and I think, "Whoa, is that Alan Alda? He sounds just like Alan Alda! I can't believe Alan Alda works here!"

Then I turn around, and see somebody who is not Alan Alda.

hey idiots!

Walking down stairs is easier than walking on a regular floor. Escalators are designed to allow people to walk up and down stairs faster. Therefore, you can walk down stairs and, not only will you be at your destination quicker, but it's EASY because you're walking down stairs.

ARGH!

an announcement -- non-legends need not heed

The Legends will get Ben's couch at Mark's Super Bowl/Birthday party at Ben's apartment and everyone else sits on the FLOOR!

Birthday Trivia

Charles Nelson Riley and Orlando Bloom share the same birthday. Coincidence? I think not.

I DO suck

and here's why.


So yesterday I had cuffed pants on. I was leaving the break room walking down a normally well populated hallway, when all of a sudden my right foot got caught in my left leg cuff. Down I went, face first, palms burning from the friction of them and the carpet.

I was up in less than 2 seconds, looked around, saw that absolutely no one was around. How had this gone unnoticed? This is normally the time where several people come up to me and say "are you okay??" and I sheepishly respond "yes, haha, yes..."

But that didn't happen. No one saw. That's not right! So I told a couple of my coworkers, and now the blogiverse.

Thank you Ben for remindind me how much I suck.

The Lazies of Livejournal

Hey Legends,

We suck butt.

In My Journeys Abroad, I Have Made One Giant Observation...

The Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese is gross. It has way too much meat.

Today is a song by some band I've never heard of.

Today I made up some words. They are:

Roundingvillephabet
Usurpathonmonbon
Northhamptonkyonky
Preherbamamdatory
Unfitferuitrients

I used the first two in sentences. Like so:

"Is today Roundingvillephabet?"
"No, you buffoon, it's Usurpathonmonbon!"

The Dreamworld

Last night I dreamt that I wrote a book (it was called "The Door Warrior," whatever that means), but I only wrote part of it. I guess I sent it in for publication when I only had 40 pages done, and since I didn't have it copyrighted, some jerk at the publishing company decided to finish it himself. The copyright notice inside the book said something about how every word, idea, and thought that appeared in the book was copyrighted by the jerk, whose name was like Michael H. Really-long-name-beginning-with-the-letter-C.

In my semi-sleepified state, I told myself that people can't copyright ideas. But in my current and slightly more aware state, I realize that I should start copyrighting ideas up and down and then sue writers left and right. Then I'd have all the directions covered.

Hey Everybody!

I just went down yonder on the chatahooch.


And decided to spend the several hours before my hardest final looking at people's blogs! On the chattahooch!


Something tells me that in Minnetonka I won't be seeing Pandas do squat. Or anything else!

The Slower You Go, the Sooner You Die

Today on my way home from work, I got stuck behind of all things a cement-mixing truck (or at least cement-mixing-truck-shaped). It was going obnoxiously slow, maxing out at about 25.

If you ask me, cement-mixing trucks of all varieties of trucks should not have to worry about being cautious. If you spin out or tip over or something, it's not like you'll explode or anything. Nor will anyone around you be seriously hurt; the cement will just slow them down. Plus it would just be cool to have cement spill everywhere.

So my message to the cement-mixing truck driver is: Quit your job and start a rap career.

something amazing

On my walk through the skyway to work today, I discovered something I've never seen before:

POLAR BEARS WALKING ON THE TIGHT ROPE.

What a world we live in!

a cryptic note designated for Ben

Ben,

I have recently discovered that the place that I will be working at features free service to the place that you are working at. Which means, of course, I will be calling about every five minutes, demanding that I get attention from you.

SUCKERS!

Mark

Wearing Shoes

I always have trouble in the morning picking out which pair of shoes to wear. Usually I can just pick which pair best matches my outfit, but today it was different. I chose my shoes based on which pair was easiest to put on while eating cereal.

The Latest Development

So instead of posting what I originally wrote here, I'll tell you what just happened to me right now.

I was about to google "tallest person" so that I could see whether or not he played basketball, but instead of typing "tallest person" into a Google bar, I typed it straight into the bar where you type the website. Somehow, several results showed up, and nearly all of these were titled "NO SHEEP!"

What do a lack of sheep and great height have in common? Complete and utter boredom.

I Had A Dream...

So in between hits on the snooze alarm, I had a dream that I was hangin' out in my garage (like I usually do) and I found, in the garage, the latest toy craze that is sure to get the kids a-shoppin':

CACTUS BALL.

I thought the Cactus Ball was really cool, until I touched it. Then, it just plain hurt.

Whoever thought Cactus Ball was a good idea was SORE-ly mistaken. (What a pun!)

Really Long Story

This actually happened to a friend of a friend, but I'm going to tell it as if it happened to me.

So I was driving home from some dirtwater burg is southern Minnesota in my dad's big ugly truck when BAM! I smacked right into a pig. A real porker. Killed it dead with front end of that big ugly truck. I looked around, thinking this hog may have strayed from its home pig farm, but there were no pig farms nor other pigs in sight.

What do you with a dead pig in the middle of southern Minnesota? It seemed like the only right thing to do was take it down the road to the nearest farm to apologize and whatnot. I knocked on this farmer's door, told him I killed a pig down the road, and he says to me, "Why, we gon' have to butcher that piggy!" "We?" I asked. "Why, 'course, son. I'll send you off with some nice cuts!"

Well, we strung that swine up on a deer hook and gutted it out in that farmer's shed. He quick treated some of the meat for me, and I was off again, now four pork chops and a few bacon strips richer.

Not five minutes after I left that farm, I get pulled over by the local sheriff. "You kill a pig a ways back down this road here?" he asks me. I didn't know how he could have known, but I fessed up. Apparently this officer of the law knew my name, address, driver's license number, and social security code too, and he didn't even ask for my license.

"How do you know all this stuff about me?" I asked.

He said to me,

"The pig squealed."