Bandolero!
I cured my headache at lunchtime by finding my down-filled vest from my workplace (a corporate Christmas gift that I never wore because it was too small when I received it but now it swallows me up, and it keeps me very warm), finding my winter gloves so that my hands can at least be warm when traveling to and fro, and eating several handfuls of Indian Corn (not necessarily in that order).
I arrived at work post-lunch (when my headache was nothing but a memory and a chuckle) and upon entering my office I immediately received two phone calls in rapid succession, several urgent faxes and an e-mail telling me that I need to get to those voice-mails and faxes as soon as possible, because -obviously- I work by their sufferance. It took all of five seconds for my headache to come roaring back and making itself known as I went through the motions for the rest of my day, finally warm and toasty, but down another handful of Advil and wishing profusely that I'd brought my Indian Corn back to work with me. Now I'm stuck eating wheat thins from the vending machines....
I'm thinking that my days can't continue like this, all rage and hunger and all bottled up so that I'm not offending the local wildlife in the process; I'm thinking that the best defense is to invest in my offense: it's time to raise up my Spork Army.
I mean, think about it - I've already got The Spork of the Gods (Courtesy of Bad Groove Amy), and I just purchased a mini-fridge (Because I broke the one bought for me by Bad Groove Amy), so all that I really need is to begin stockpiling my Weapon of Choice and get myself a Bandolier or two, and I'll be set!
Because really - if you saw a stout, titian-haired beauty stalking toward you with a titanium spork in one hand (and...I don't know, a blue one in the other), a bandolier chock full of many colored sporks criss-crossing her chest, a mini-fridge in her office to hold the body parts she'd carved out of her fallen enemies to keep as souvenirs, and murder in her eyes, well...wouldn't you be scared? You should be, because I've got ready access to all of the above, and I've got one recruit already, complete with a mini-laser so that she can decapitate people at will (she's agreed to let me be the leader...for now).
So I'm thinking yes.
Yes, indeed.
That will be me, The Sporkmaster General.
Be afraid.
I arrived at work post-lunch (when my headache was nothing but a memory and a chuckle) and upon entering my office I immediately received two phone calls in rapid succession, several urgent faxes and an e-mail telling me that I need to get to those voice-mails and faxes as soon as possible, because -obviously- I work by their sufferance. It took all of five seconds for my headache to come roaring back and making itself known as I went through the motions for the rest of my day, finally warm and toasty, but down another handful of Advil and wishing profusely that I'd brought my Indian Corn back to work with me. Now I'm stuck eating wheat thins from the vending machines....
I'm thinking that my days can't continue like this, all rage and hunger and all bottled up so that I'm not offending the local wildlife in the process; I'm thinking that the best defense is to invest in my offense: it's time to raise up my Spork Army.
I mean, think about it - I've already got The Spork of the Gods (Courtesy of Bad Groove Amy), and I just purchased a mini-fridge (Because I broke the one bought for me by Bad Groove Amy), so all that I really need is to begin stockpiling my Weapon of Choice and get myself a Bandolier or two, and I'll be set!
Because really - if you saw a stout, titian-haired beauty stalking toward you with a titanium spork in one hand (and...I don't know, a blue one in the other), a bandolier chock full of many colored sporks criss-crossing her chest, a mini-fridge in her office to hold the body parts she'd carved out of her fallen enemies to keep as souvenirs, and murder in her eyes, well...wouldn't you be scared? You should be, because I've got ready access to all of the above, and I've got one recruit already, complete with a mini-laser so that she can decapitate people at will (she's agreed to let me be the leader...for now).
So I'm thinking yes.
Yes, indeed.
That will be me, The Sporkmaster General.
Be afraid.