When is it okay to be naked at work?

 

NEVER.  I don’t care if you just worked out at the company gym.  You should never remove your clothing at your place of business.

The art of writing.

When considering a new blog post, I follow the same methodology every day.  I pick up a pen, put my glasses on my head, and then start to think… FUCK YOU!  (Note the “love” on the finger.)  It works every time.

Have you ever?

Had one of those days where you wish you could just punch everyone you see in the face?

Charlie likes the ladies hairy.

“Eww.  I don’t like that girl.”

“Why, Charlie?”

“Cause she take-ted her hair off.”

 

Dane Cook sucks.

I always thought the douche bags were named Angela…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5T4UuLuPrfk&NR=1

On behalf of all Karen’s, your photo should appear here in December, Dane Cock: http://www.bigdouchebag.com/index.html.   I guess there is a long line on the douche waiting list.

Douche bag.

I’ve got cramps.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iCQ4QLFl01g

Your Mom called, Lux.  She wants you to pull up your pants.

Houston, I think we have a problem.

 

Scientific evidence has confirmed I will be an insane old woman.  I guess Britney and I DO have something in common.

http://health.yahoo.com/experts/joybauernutrition/26495/pot-bellies-may-lead-to-dementia/

 

If only I knew how to make my own web site.

It would be this: 

http://thingsididlastnight.com/

Pure genius.

Apparently, my husband owes me 1 billion dollars.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/articles/news/news.html?in_article_id=566617&in_page_id=1770&Thbbbbt

Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!

Just another in a long line of disappointments to come.

Apparently when you’re 5-1/2, tiny ice cream is bullshit…

I took the kids to McDonald’s last night after dinner for a special treat.  I wanted one of those giant drinks, and I know they give away little kids cones.  So we get there, they are so excited, and I hand them their tiny cones.  Violet was not amused.

“Why is it so tiny?” she asks, clearly disappointed.  Translation: What the fuck is this?  I’m 5-1/2.  This tiny ice cream is clearly designed for babies. 

“It’s a yummy ice cream,” I declare.  “Oh man, I wanted a real one,” she whines, clearly not happy with me at all.  Translation:  Yeah, I get it.  It’s a fucking tiny ice cream, I’m not stupid.  Clearly, when you said ice cream at McDonald’s, I didn’t think you were going to fuck me over with this shit.

“Okay, then I guess I’ll eat it,” I offer.  “No!” she yells and starts digging in.  Translation: Look, I’ll fucking eat it cause it’s ice cream, but I don’t like it.  At all.  And I’m going to hate you when I’m 16 because of this.