One of the Benefits at My Job is Diabesity

my friend sent this to me in an email entitled "cockface":

WHY WOMEN AREN'T FUNNY

no but seriously, READ IT AND TELL ME HOW YOU FEEL. try and get through it even though it is chockful of GRE words and uppity noseness. anyway, i neither agree nor disagree entirely, but i do know that this guy isn't very funny, even if he doesn't represent the rest of his group. in fact, he is dry as a sack of dead skin in the wintertime. why are articles about humor always so boring?


the sad gender
courtesy of Flickr and Radioflyer007

but i think people have argued similar things over males v. females in countless art forms...writing, poetry, drama, needlepoint, glassblowing...et cetters!

~~~

well, in case, you wanted new news, all i can tell you is go back to finishing school.

can you imagine starting finishing school? the wordplay is living room wall display frame-able.

yeah so guess what? i acquired cake at 11:30am today. it was someone in the art department's birthday. actually i couldn't go through with it right away. it spent an hour or two staring at me on a fancy holiday party paper plate with poinsettias framing the outside as i attempted to work under its carby gaze. shortly thereafter, my spirit shattered, and i devoured it with no remorse.

meanwhile, ALL DAY, the 6th floor office kitchen was laden with an assorted tray of muffins and sweet breads. then i get an email that the 3rd floor office kitchen is stocked with BBQ leftovers...(winter BBQ? i'm not even going to question that). so everyone is walking around with plates full of stuffed pheasant and roasted quail eggs.

THEN we had another mandatory 2 p.m. cake call (like a fire drill in our company).

i'm starting to have nightmares about baked goods. armies of brownies running towards me waiting to launch themselves into my mouth. being suffocated by pillows made of cookies. giant cakes falling towards me like anvils from the sky. cranberry-walnut bread demons. and the siren call of eggnog. i turn a corner, any corner, and someone is coming towards me with a freshly stocked tray.


yelp.
courtesy of Flickr and Blakefacey