come here watson, i need you.

so i was fixing to tell coworker about one of my pet peeves, and i started in «this is one of my pet peeves...» and he was all like «you have a lot of those, ace.» and i was all like «hey, some people have pet kitties, i have pet peeves.» and he was all like «haha» and then i was like «well, my primary pet peeve is when people point out i have a lot of pet peeves, and when people do that i am compelled to poke their eyes out.» and so now i have to do his work because he's in braille class most of the day.

so the particular peeve i was going to discuss was that i fairly much cannot stand when people use the subject line of the email as the email. officelady is a consistent abuser of this and consistently she's with the «when you get a moment, i need your help with something.» which is another peeveosity b/c i am seriously with thinking you should just explain what it is in the email or else just come over and knock on the freakin door and ask the freakin question b/c she's basically asking me to get up & come over there when she's too lazyashed to get up & come over here. cripes!

and, i just got back from the grocery store and realized i must have had a vision of an armageddon of poo b/c i bought yet another 6-pack of papierre dey toidee and when i went to place it in the cabinet, i saw that i already have like 14 rolls dey papierre dey toidee and seeing as how there are only 2 of us here, that should last us like several months or at least until the armageddon of poo.

speaking of poo, it's time to cook supper. perhaps you say «ew» to hear me say «supper» and «poo» together, but you know that we are not going to eat poo, but what we eat will turn to poo. at least, that is the hope, is it not? i mean, no one talks about it much, but we are all hoping the food will turn to poo. admit it!

gotta go.