Another day, another dollar. Friday is here. Yay. My body is sore from working out with my torture lord (I call him Marcus, affectionately of course.). So what's on my mind as I work a double yet again?
One word: Tired. And brain dead. Okay, so that's more like four words. And that's not counting the previous sentence or this one.
I'm not feeling very witty. Deal with it.
But apparently some people are reading this thing. And it has been suggested I update this thing a little more regularly. So I promise that I will try to update this thing at least once a week from here on out. We'll see....
P.S.- The coworker in question who assisted me with the tire in the previous blog ("The smell of burning rubber haunts me...")is also my friend, David Gleason. It was pointed out to me I marginalized him as a generalization by calling him "generic coworker person". That was not my intent. He is a very special person with a caring heart, a resolute and honest character and a enormous penis. If I was a girl, I would totally let him "do me". But alas ladies, he is taken. And no, he didn't totally harangue me and pester all through the last couple of days to write this since I didn't mention him and he definitely didn't feel left out. It was all me...
P.S.- This David should not be confused with the David with the video phone at the dinner, he of the "Two Girls, One Cup" (Trifecta!) video infamy.
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