Thursday, January 15

job.

i'm at job,
and it's flippin' freezin'....well below, in fact.
and of course,
it's not as awful as some other places,
which is just one of the reasons i don't live there;
however,
it's too windy and suckie to rock out in the greater out of doors this aftternoon,
and i'm the resident zapper on duty here at the studio,
which should inhibit my desire to be elsewhere anyway.....
jess is busy busy busy,
which is awesome.
(because somebody should be)
we hit up some fancypants breakfast, early shirley o'clock,
with jenny,
before she headed down the long road home.
she will be missed.

here's a question:
do old people not know it's cold outside?
seriously.
if you see people walkin' around in parkas,
and ice is on everything,
why go outside and die off?
it seems counterintuitive.
i thought older got the big bonus of wiser....
80 years of winters should tell you it's the opposite of warm....
i mean,
once you get outside, and realize it's preposterously subzero bone-numbingly cold,
go back in and put on a scarf.
or better yet,
stay in and sip some noodle soup.....
jeez.
old people.
so weird.

so yeah,
it's thor's day, all day,
and i'm in the mood to make some moves....
i've got a bangin' baguette,
and a quad shot turbolarge so so def espresso,
which means all the pieces are in place.
i've got my pencil sharpened, too...
email me your addresses, my ninjas.
i've got post office worthy hottness in the works,
and you can't have any unless i get your address.
don't wait.
do it now:
battlebeasteleven@gmail.com
word.....

at job.
jobbies.
so hard.
never quiet, never soft.....

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