We've all been there, experiencing those morning events that just scream to you, "this day is going to suck."
Tie-Dipping in coffee, every shirt is wrinkled, car won't start...
How about these:
You wake up and it's Monday.
You wake up to realize you've stolen anything from Mike Tyson.
You wake up late for the Monday Morning Sales Group-Hug back in the crumbling world that is your company.
You wake up, walk to the bathroom, and Patrick Duffy is stepping out of the shower - it was all a dream. And you might be...well, "...skip to my Lou, happy...".
You wake up, swear by all the gods of fast food hell, you will never go to Wendy's again. Lift the lid, there are ladies about, feel a stronger than usual back pain, look down and see blood.
- this is what happened to me, today, this morning...
Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot!
Monday, December 12, 2011
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Thursday, December 8, 2011
"...You All Read this Tome for different reasons...I'm asking more of you...sure as I know anything, I am to misbehave..."
12/8/2011
"...Let's be bad guys..."
Brick and mortar is dead.
The ways of the past are limiting. Still, the Ways are promoted, adhered to, and pushed down from the AllianceArchaic.
We who abide, sleep in the cubical that has become life. Suckling the metal teat, swallowing the dogma and false promise of a heartless Utopia. Blissful. One day, we wake up selling copiers.
Those of us who see, rile and squirm under the thumb. We are misunderstood chastised and subjugated. Seen as different, defiant.
Contrarian.
We who abide, sleep in the cubical that has become life. Suckling the metal teat, swallowing the dogma and false promise of a heartless Utopia. Blissful. One day, we wake up selling copiers.
Those of us who see, rile and squirm under the thumb. We are misunderstood chastised and subjugated. Seen as different, defiant.
Contrarian.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
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