I love Balloon Jesus, and I want to thank fafblog for it. If you haven't read fafblog, you should consider yourself deprived. It's right here. fafblog, ask for it by name.Work has been soul-crushing. If I could have found my way to the roof yesterday, I would have tossed myself off the building and into the abyss. The reason they don't allow firearms into these cubicle farms has nothing to do with protecting you from other employees. It's to keep the employees from blowing their brains out before lunch.
I've got another long day today and a short-fused deadline this weekend, so unless something hits me that I absolutely must pass along, like more stories about teen underpants, the Planet will be dark for a few days.
Play nice and try not to break the furniture.
7 comments:
How many times have I heard that from my husband? He really does think similarly to the psycho he wrote about on Flashing in the Gutters. If it isn't the pointless job, it's the waste-of-skin people beside him yakking on the phone all day about their flatulence problem. Isn't it scary to think of me as the nice one out of the two of us?
Do you suppose that when seminary students need to blow off a little steam, they have holy water balloon fights?
How do you crucify Balloon Jesus?
"How do you crucify Balloon Jesus?"
Pontius Pilate rubs Balloon Jesus against his hair until enough static electricity is generated. Then he just sticks Balloon Jesus to a cross (made from popsicle sticks).
A comment for the sake of a comment is needless, needless to say. Such is the wisdom of the balloon cult.
By the way, I am preparing a list of links to fellow Carolinian's blogs to post on mine. However, I do prefer to ask permission prior to linking someone's blog. I would be honored to add you to my list if you don't mind. Just drop me a line or leave a comment on my blog. Thanks so much.
Dread
I was actually going to write something about teen underpants. How weird is that?
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