Oh What a Wonderful Morning...

Now I am not one to write blogs about what goes in my life, mainly because I can not stand to read other peoples daily update on their life. But I’d bet dollars to doughnuts (mmmm doughnuts) that you are wondering what I am doing. Well, seeing as I am just all around awesome guy, I’ll fill you in. Right now, as I type this, I am absolutely miserable. I’d rather be watching Hilary Clinton finish off Newt Gingrich while listening to Ashlee Simpson sing the background music than be where I am right now. That’s how bad this is. I am currently involved in one of the worst things ever invented, a conference call. Conference calls are just awful. Granted, I hate meetings. A lot. But conference calls are 13 times worse; perhaps verging on 14, but as of right now, suggesting 14 times worse would be just plain silly. See, in a meeting, much like being in a class, I have visual stimulation in the form of the female physique. The most sexually stimulating thing I have to look at in my office, is my bobble head of 2004 Golden Glove recipient, Cesar Izturis. On this conference call I have to listen to some dimwit speak about a subject that I couldn’t care less about, while staring at my fucking phone. As interesting as that sounds, let me tell you, it isn’t.

I apologize for the slight tangent; let me get back to how miserable I am right now. It doesn’t help that I absolutely hate conference calls, but this is one that I can’t leave in the middle. My manager is, dutifully, paroling the office to make sure everyone is in on the call. Which bothers me. Cause right now, I really need to poop. Sure, I could have heeded her suggestion of utilizing the little boys room previous to the call, but I didn’t need to poop then. I need to poop now. And I can’t. And I am very upset about this. My buttcheeks are quite taut. If you placed a piece a coal in my butt right now I’d be willing to bet that, once I am relieved from this malediction my company has hexed me with, I will be shitting diamonds. Which, doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, cause I like money almost as much as Kevin Federline likes being a plague to society. As if this wasn’t bad enough, I can only imagine how painful it is going to be to walk to the bathroom. I guarantee I am going to look a college chick the morning following the first time she let a black dude (or me, cause, ya know, I’m fuckin huge) explore numero dos.

So those two facts alone are enough to make me go crazy, but that isn’t it. Ohh no, that couldn’t possibly be all. If you don’t know me very well, let me fill you in on an attribute of my body. I have the highest body temperature of anyone I know. This is a ridiculously double-edged sword. On one hand, shorts and a t-shirt work any hour of the day, any season of the year. On the other hand, I am always hot. I sleep naked with one blanket, more often than not I end up just kicking off that blanket, pretty good use of that 200-thread count, isn’t it. You might be thinking to yourself, “why are you telling me this?” Hey buddy, just fucking relax, I’m getting there. The suite that I work in is divided into eight smaller individual offices. When our manager was divvying up who got which office, I definitely should have purchased some KY before hand because I got fucked pretty hard. I work in the ONLY office that does not have a thermostat. Even the building manager cannot find it. Which means, that my office is hot 100% of the time. Go ahead and guess if I have to wear pants to work. Normally, at work, I have to take time out to just sit and think about not sweating from the heat alone. We have to have our door closed during this call, so my office is hotter than normal. Which means that I have to try to concentrate on not sweating, while keeping my ass as clenched as if I were worried about a homosexual male creeping up behind me.

I feel awful right now…I wish I were drunk right now….So, I hope that all of you have just a fucking wonderful day.