Personification

I Didn't Post Today

It Has To Be Said...

The Temple of Doom

I just found myself singing the Indiana Jones theme out loud at my desk. My desk is alone in a giant room. It echoed. Awkward.

There's something really eerie about being the only person on AIM. There are those people who are perpetually online (myself included) even if they're not actually at their computers. So when I log on and find that there's no one else around, it almost feels like I'm lost in a dark forest. A forest of empty IM boxes and dying dreams. @__@

There's Something Unnervingly Sinister About the Phrase "21st Century German Engineering"

Buying a car is about as much fun as being repeatedly punched in the face. This baffles me. Maybe it's because I'm a woman and I've been conditioned to think of shopping as fun, but it just seems that buying something big and shiny shouldn't be any more difficult than buying something small and shiny. I keep telling myself that if I had giant wads of cash hanging out of my pockets, it would be a different story, but even then you'd still have to deal with car salesmen. Glad-handed sycophants wearing cheap suits and smiling their Crest-whitened smiles. Honest people generally don't become car salesmen and the ones that do experience a Smeagol-like transformation into slimy, shriveled husks of what they once were. They're unscrupulous; even the unskilled among them will try to find a way to avoid turning an honest phrase. Even when they are caught outright in a lie, they persist.

The endangered Bald Tire

No matter who you are, they will treat you like an idiot. If you were Henry freaking Ford they would try to convince you that the oil sheen slowly spreading out from under the car was just its "love juice."

How I see car salesmen:

How car salesmen see me:

A Day in the Life

Make avatar

Sip Sip BURN

I should have seen this coming. I walked into the break room and grabbed a Styrofoam cup. It felt light and cheerful in my hand. The pot of coffee was fresh and full, little wispy whirls of steam rising up as if to say "good morning, Candi. It's java time!" I poured the congenial liquid into my cup, grabbed a stirrer and plopped it in the glass. And it sizzled. The little white plastic straw sizzled and slumped against the rim of my cup. Somehow, this did not clue me in. In went the French Vanilla creamer and the half-teaspoon of sugar. I carried my coffee, gingerly, to my desk and waited a few minutes for it to cool down.

If only I'd waited just a little longer...


ANYWAY. Despite the third degree burns on my tongue, I'm in a pretty good mood this morning. I've just discovered that the maximum number of followers a Blogger blog can have is 50,000. That being said, I'd like to set a goal, of sorts. What say you? What's a reasonable number? 10 a month? More? Less?

Let's get the word out, people!

The Many Perks of Being A Secretary