After I knocked the wind out of Michelle's sails by dashing her hopes of getting lucky, she did make a speedy recovery:

"So, since you're gay, can I look up your kilt?"

(no, I didn't let her)

I've been recovering from some vile pox inflicted upon me by my team leader, whose lung-dislodging hacking caused several rounds of prairie-dogging across the cube farm on Friday afternoon. Based on the fact that four other coworkers have been absent the last two days with the same symptoms, we'll let the blame fall squarely on his shoulders, and ( Read more... )