9:20 a.m. - 2003-04-24
So, someone tell me to stop eating those demonic chocolate eggs that my grossly obese co-worker's mom made for us. His mom is constantly making us candy. Good stuff too. She doesn't use teh craft store chocolate. She buys chocolate in Europe on her monthly forays and makes cute bite-sized shapes out of it. Bitch. If I have to buy her son's size pants before summer is through, I'm gonna lay a smackdown on her candy making ass!
My pseudo-husband wrote a piece about wearing Mickey Mouse ears at work and forgetting they were on his head this week. I wonder if I could get away with wearing fuzzy pink slippers here? They may go with the sweat pants I'll be wearing if someone doesn't lay a smackdown on me for eating like a glutton to combat work stress. Just another corporate terrorism tactic. Make us all too fat to have the self-esteem to walk away from this place.
Had me that peanut butter egg, will you please?