��� 2004-05-19, 8:32 p.m.
Myd-ass Touch
Everything King Midas touched turned to gold. Today, everything I touched turned to shit. The day got smelly early on as I went into work early, only to sit in the boss's office and listen to him take a phone call that lasted twenty minutes. This left me to ponder the conundrums of the world while staring at my shoe. Then I banged the holy hell out of my knee on his desk. I had to check and make sure it wasn't broken.
After a series of similar events, I called and left a psychotic message on my friend's voicemail saying "I WANT TO KILL EVERYONE. SATAN IS GOOD. SATAN IS OUR PAL." (Only fans of The 'Burbs will get this one.)
Later on in the day, I discovered something that had occured on Monday without my knowlege required me to drop everything and fix it, only to find out that it wasn't such an emergency after all. Then a client called up and basically asked us to help him commit tax evasion. I told him that if it didn't benefit our firm in some way he wasn't going to get any help from us.
I came home with half the hair I left with and a bad case of dry skin. I did not make good on the promise I left on my best friend's voicemail to blow my own brains straight out.
If I had a hot tub, I would sit in it. For now, I'm going to have to make do with imported French cigarettes and bargain wine.
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