Butternut Tuxedoes (Case Study #817G)
Productive 24 hours, it's been. After 98 visits to the toilet thanks to a dining experience at Applebee's gone hideously awry, i awakened at 7:31 a.m. to the dulcet tones of birds chirping. This avian awakening was a mechanical facsimile of the real thing, conceived and blasted with ferocity from my clock radio, a contraption that is often host to demonic infestation. Of course, this abrupt audio anarchy ejects my lovely wife (GENUFLECT IN THE AUGUST PRESENCE OF THE WHAMMINESS! OBJECTORS TO HER AUTHORITY SHALL RECEIVE REPRIMAND AND SHAME! REPRIMAND AND SHAME F*#$KING HURTS!! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!) from gentle slumber, causing her to scream bloody murder in fragmented tongues. i answered instantaneously by slamming my fist onto the snooze button, which increased the dissonance exponentially, reverting the chirps and peep-peeps to a nightmarish growl that can best be described as a corpulent Republican senator from Texas being violently sucked into a vortex of inhuman despair lips-first. Another piledriver of bone and flesh onto the snooze button terminated that satanic symphony, i kissed my wife (WHAMMINESS! READ THE BILLBOARDS! IT IS FOR THE WHOLE WORLD TO BEHOLD!), and thus the day commenced...
Honestly, working at the Huntington Learning Center handling the daily scheduling of students with teachers and doing a hefty amount of educating myself in the category of the ultra-nifty wow-wow SAT Verbal sections is a profession that i wear like a hooded sweatshirt on a cold winter morn--comforting and invulnerable. i don't ordinarily frequent the joint on Saturdays but sometimes (5-6 times a year) the need arises for this wayward son of *insert your best punchline here* to make a guest appearance on the weekend shift. It's a great gig, and i get to fight crime! If you question my duty, you're basically etching your own tombstone so don't tempt the leprechaun, kids...
We came. We saw. We crafted.
After work, my wife (THE WHAMMINESS IN 3-D!! ENGAGE THE GOGGLES AND PREPARE FOR A JOURNEY THAT SHALL REDUCE YOUR INTELLECTS TO OATMEAL! THE WHAMMINESS HAS SPOKEN!) and i painted decorative plates at "A Time to Kiln" and witnessed many wanton acts of poor parenting at a birthday party in the back room. It's not the children, it's the parents...trust me...something has to be done...i'm working on it.
Another busy day in the life of an anti-hero.
sayonara, slidesuckers.
