Scary seafood.

hcolleen was taking notes tonight: "I'm Not Feeling the Clams" (or something like that) -- some Found Poetry.

It was like "I'm not feeling the love here, people!" except ... with clams. The New Lady's reading had involved an oyster bar, see, and this led to discussion about sushi, which is our generation's oysters.

The "very angry shredded lettuce" refers to the sidewalk by a garbage can, where someone's salad had partially missed the mark.

I need a caffeine icon.
I need a poly/bi type icon.
I need lots more icons.
I just don't have time when I have motivation, and I don't have motivation when I have time.

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Some of the mental state persists, but I am out the door. I can always go home early if it's a problem. I clearly need sleep.

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Still not quite all here, but this is the workplace where my co worker can sing little tunes about homicide.

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In related news, Reverend not so nice supervisor is trying for a music career on the side. I hope it works well.

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He even has a radio edit of "I just want to kill people" written . He is his own comic reality show. He's always 'on'.

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Work. Phones first, then monitoring. Some of the bullpen pcs are being replaced.

Death isn't good enough.

Bill Napoli is the sound of me saying things inside with my outside voice. My shocked, scared, and furious outside voice.

I want to believe that he's doing this because he believes that it is the right thing. But once you're a legislator and you start saying, "You're not religious and you weren't a virgin, so your rape wasn't bad enough to traumatize you enough to not have to bear your rapist's child" ...

... garnetdagger would like a word with this man.