mnvnjnsn's Diary

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Do they even *know* how you get those beads?

I haven't written for a long, long time. Believe me, this hurts you more than it hurts me. No, wait. Anyway, the combination of having a job that keeps me busy and this weird narcolepsy that hits me as soon as I cross the threshold to our house has left us all bereft.

I seem to be getting better at my new job. I'm comfortable answering questions, talking people through things and generally being a helpful help desk person. Still annoyed by the one co-worker, but I refuse to make this an "All about TWIT" blog (that's a separate blog altogether).

Trevor Dunnigan has been found watching ABC news when I get home, so for the past two days I've been privy to Bob Schieffer waxing poetic about New New Orleans and the meaningfulness of post-hurricane Mardi Gras. Both nights he was wearing plastic Mardi Gras beads.

Which is why, after he finished his fluff piece on "wacky-but-morbid novelty t-shirts," I could only say that I would only buy one that said

"I saw Bob Schieffer's Tits."

5:25 p.m. - 2006-03-01


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