Wrap it up.

Ok. So we're working on the health quarterly. We're coming up with a headline for a story about safe sex. Ryan said "Don't be silly, wrap yer willy." I thought maybe "Wrap it before you tap it." Jeff is sitting silently, and Patti said she's got nothing. Wusses.

Ryan said he can sing like "Jesus and Fergie" by the way.

Oh, Jeff just came up with his: "Don't be a punk, wrap yer junk."

Today is my birthday.

Look Ma! No Net!

It's definitely a Monday.

It was a strange weekend...and the newsroom is pretty quiet today. I think I'll go home and make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and call it good.

I'm walking the tightrope again.

Octobery

Today is torture. Will it never end?

I'm sporting a pretty good whiskey hangover from the "girl's night in" at Candise's house last night. It was a good time - but I'm not 25 anymore and I shouldn't drink Crown and Coke like I am.

We're all kind of quiet in the newsroom today. Maybe it's the weather. It's dark and rainy - very Octobery.

He feels pretty...oh so pretty.

Ryan feels pretty today. He's singing the song from "West Side Story". He sings it almost as good as Maria, but he is especially annoying today. That's what makes him so endearing.

Neither of us are in the mood to write this afternoon, but we're still pumping out the stories. Brain prostitution. He just called me "Sukka". He even spelled it out for me. Very helpful.

Neither of us know where the rest of the newsroom is today. They were all gone when we came back from lunch. Maybe they got some mysterious plague and Ryan and I just happened to miss it so now we're left in the Armageddon of what was once a thriving newsroom.

And maybe I just need to get back to work.

Sanctuary

Well, everyone is gone from the newsroom except me and Kirby. The Supreme Commander left early for the day and put me in charge...so I think everyone just bailed. That's ok - I wrote like a maniac today. I wrote enough to fill the paper all on my own.

Anyway, it's been a rough week. Mom is living with me for the time being - and the newsroom has sort of become my Sanctuary. It's where life ISN'T spinning out of control and the crazy going on here is a good kind of crazy...not the bad insanity that life can throw in your face like a big poo pie when you least expect it.

Sticks and Stones.

Ryan just looked at me all wild-eyed and said "When you come to work Monday, you will find a brick wall built right here!!!" To show me where the brick wall would be, he furiously waved his hand back and forth between our desks.

Ryan is upset because I always win when it comes to name-calling. Maybe it's because he's too nice to call me really bad names, or maybe he is simply inexperienced at hurling epithets with the same finesse as me - but at any rate he never comes out in the winner's circle at the contest's end.

I am not proud.

Sad like a black balloon.

I didn't blog while I was at work today.
I was told Scotch couldn't come to work anymore because it isn't professional to have a dog in the newsroom. Everyone was very disappointed, including me.
And that's all I have to say about that.

Dirty Harriet.

I'm being hostile to Jeff today. Maybe it's because he's wearing a button-down shirt for the first time...or maybe it's because the Clinton nemesis has been poking me with a big, psychological stick recently and I feel like Dirty Harry and just want someone to make my day...if you get my drift.

Patti said, as our Supreme Commander, that she is just going to stay out of it today. In other words, as I like to see it, she is turning a blind eye to my abuse of our beloved Sports Editor. Mwah Haa Haaaa.

I have no idea where Ryan and Kirby went. Today is Ryan's Rotary Club day...maybe they caught on to his under-cover work and put him on the rack. I told him he was too young for Rotary. He doesn't blend in.

Perhaps I'm just frustrated from lack of sleep today - and the fact nobody is calling me back on several stories I'm working on. Therefore I'm left to my own devices. And this afternoon it means the torturing of Jeff.

Squeaky Chair.

Ryan is feeling even more mature than normal this afternoon. He has discovered if he moves a certain way in his chair, it makes a noise that strongly resembles the release of gas (a fart) from the nether-regions of the human body. So he proceeded to make the noise over and over again, accompanied by groans of relief.

Kirby just hit him in the back of the head with a stack of papers to get him to quit.

Now he's quoting Orbit Gum commercials.

Jeff has received the bird twice today, and demands to be paid $40K for each finger tossed at him. I sent him one bird, Ryan sent him the other.

Patti has sworn to become a raging bitch by the time she's 40 if she continues to work here. We know she doesn't mean it, and we love her.

Another day in the newsroom.