Girlfriend stole funny
I think I've been at times saddled with the burden of providing a continuous stream of conciousness to this blog, though lately, my lesser contributions have been fewer and farther between. Thank goodness for Gregory, John Martin whose subtle form of utilitarian humor packs a solid "OH SNAP" to it.
Sometimes I think girlfriend might work the opposite way of a muse. This is because girlfriend doesn't inspire me to write songs with lyrics about volcanic eruptions and bird extinctions, and girlfriend certainly doesn't inspire me to write funny blog entries consisting of "WORD(e)" and "Did I do this right?"
Verbose, I used to be, my mental extractions only rivaled by the Yin to my Nate Yang, the incredulicious Nate Beard aka New Jersey Brother™. I'm lately plagued by the unceremonious curse of brain death that usually results in coma or vegetative state. For me it means I am just functioning off my will to survive. Eye of the tiger.
Office time is slow time, particularly on the days I'm forced to do counter-watch on my lunch hour. This is the time when I do a receptionists job, but since it's Friday, during lunch hour, that really constitutes a rare citizen complaint call, which I promptly hand over to someone else.
Time for me to sit, it leaves me to ponder my existence and the meaning of life within the confines of two cubicle walls and a vast assortment of printing and copying hardware which is all broken on this particular week.
It's high time for a vacation, since the literal meaning of that seems to be "a vacating". In my place will be an empty, uncomfortable chair, replete with crumbs from this week's granola high. My fix, nestled in a plastic cup.
I think girlfriend said on our trip we have internet that we can use at one of the hotels. I don't really want to but my addiction will probably force me to send at least an e-mail or a post while I am there. Nefarious.
Granola is starting to stare at me again, boring into my skull, begging me to finish the box. With 3 ways to go natural, it's really hard to resist.
Sometimes I think girlfriend might work the opposite way of a muse. This is because girlfriend doesn't inspire me to write songs with lyrics about volcanic eruptions and bird extinctions, and girlfriend certainly doesn't inspire me to write funny blog entries consisting of "WORD(e)" and "Did I do this right?"
Verbose, I used to be, my mental extractions only rivaled by the Yin to my Nate Yang, the incredulicious Nate Beard aka New Jersey Brother™. I'm lately plagued by the unceremonious curse of brain death that usually results in coma or vegetative state. For me it means I am just functioning off my will to survive. Eye of the tiger.
Office time is slow time, particularly on the days I'm forced to do counter-watch on my lunch hour. This is the time when I do a receptionists job, but since it's Friday, during lunch hour, that really constitutes a rare citizen complaint call, which I promptly hand over to someone else.
Time for me to sit, it leaves me to ponder my existence and the meaning of life within the confines of two cubicle walls and a vast assortment of printing and copying hardware which is all broken on this particular week.
It's high time for a vacation, since the literal meaning of that seems to be "a vacating". In my place will be an empty, uncomfortable chair, replete with crumbs from this week's granola high. My fix, nestled in a plastic cup.
I think girlfriend said on our trip we have internet that we can use at one of the hotels. I don't really want to but my addiction will probably force me to send at least an e-mail or a post while I am there. Nefarious.
Granola is starting to stare at me again, boring into my skull, begging me to finish the box. With 3 ways to go natural, it's really hard to resist.
Nathan Prime 12:21
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