Speak Louder, No Habla Engles
At the office we have a Hispanic cleaning lady. I know that "cleaning lady" isn't politically correct, but what the fuck. She's a lady. And she cleans. Her name is Maria, and she's one of the sweetest people I've ever met. Maria doesn't speak English so well, and some of the guys at the office seem to think that because of this, they need to speak louder to her than is really necessary. As if the louder they speak, the better she'll understand.
Um. Guys, she's not deaf. And, screaming at her will not magically make her fluent in English.
However cool that might be if it were true.
I read an article today about a California couple that have decided that we should all have orgasms on December 22nd. And we're supposed to have orgasms as an anti-war demonstration, because "The orgasm gives out an incredible feeling of peace during it and after it," Reffell said Sunday. "Your mind is like a blank. It's like a meditative state. And mass meditations have been shown to make a change."
Um. Yeah. Mushroom tea anyone?
The article goes on with, "The couple have studied evolutionary psychology and believe that war is mainly an outgrowth of men trying to impress potential mates, a case of "my missile is bigger than your missile," as Reffell put it."
So, there you have it. The reason we're in Iraq is because George W. has a little weenie.
Jamaican Java, Mon
I bought Thomas some Blue Mountain coffee, which is supposed to be this super fantastic coffee. I'm pretty sure you're supposed to masturbate while drinking it so you can enjoy the full essence of the bean. Anyway, he's going through this huge production out of making this coffee. Because it's that damn good, people. He's making sure everything is just right, and talking his way through this process. I think it's kinda cute, and I just thought you should know.
Church Sign O' the Week
"There's no wrong place to share the gospel."
Oh, church sign guy. So deluded, you are. There's a place that I can think of where sharing your gospel would be inappropriate. Like where you ask? Well, let's just say hypothetically you're in a hotel room, and you're a televangelist and you're butt-fucking a male prostitute who is also your meth supplier. That would be an inappropriate time to share the love of Jesus. Don't you agree?
Can the Ted Haggard jokes ever get old? I hope with all my being that they can't.
I promise after the end of the month I'll quit making closet-gay preacher jokes.
Unless another gay preacher gets booted out of the closet. Then I'm all over that shit. Fo sheezy.
And now, I'm off to be a baking fool.
The Bablatrice- a little dab'll do ya.