No I haven't been kidnapped.....

I've been reading my fave blogs lately and it seems we’re all in a slump. Blame it on the rain (cue Milli Vanilli…hahaha), the impending holidays (I’m sure I’ll have something to say about that), the economic blues, whatever. All I know is that I haven’t felt much like sharing my world (cue Mary J.) lately either. Actually, that’s not true. I’ve written blogs, just didn’t hit publish. I wrote one about a co-worker who I nicknamed Bitter (he was a McCain supporter) but after reading it, I sounded…..well, bitter so I avoided the publish button. But for the record, he’s a bitter SOB and I’m on to his shenanigans which I expect to increase the closer we get to inauguration day. Wait until he finds out I’m going to DC. LOL (Sidebar: shit! Did I just reveal where I’m going to be on a date in the future?? Stalkers and stans, I’m lying. Everyone else, you know where to find me. Hahahahahaa)

I’ve written more about Baskin Robbins but I’m not quite ready to share with the fans and stans (especially the stans…hahahaha). Oh but update: my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. Well not fully anyway. He did mention that he may come up that weekend but he found out the next day that his family decided to go out of town so he decided to stay where he is. Still no clue where I got the Greyhound part of the story from. But at least I’m not going crazy. Well not completely certifiably so.

I watched a man struggle to get his key in the lock to open his office door today. And the first thing that came to mind? Damn, he must not be getting any. As I turned the corner, I realized that I think that whenever a man fumbles with keys. In my twisted mind, I equate his inability to put the key in the lock is a direct correlation to his inability to ummm put his key in the lock, per se. I have no idea where I got this theory from. But I’m sure I’m not the first person to make sexual correlations to non-sexual activities.

I was having a conversation with a friend (no blog name necessary) and he posed the following question to me:

Would you rather date a tall punk or a short man with heart?

Of course I had to qualify the question.
Define short. Is he short when I have on heels or if I’m barefoot?? Define punk. Are we talking someone inflicted by Terminal Chronic Bitchassness (otherwise known as TCB) or a lover, not a fighter (cue MJ and Paul McCartney before things went sour)???

My answer: If he’s shorter than me barefoot or if he suffers from TCB, then most likely I’ll be single. If I choose the short dude with heart he might have a Napoleon complex and think he can tackle the world. And if that's the case, he may be beaten to a pulp or shot, thus leaving me single. Or if I chose the tall brother with TCB, I won’t have any respect for him anyway, thus leaving me single. Hahahaha

Holy crap, Batman! Bossman is closing up shop early today. As in right now. His exact words: “Whoever wants to reach us, that’s what the Blackberry is for. Go home.” And I don't even have my Blackberry yet! Lorrrd, I love working for the Brit! Happy Friday!!! Cheerio!