Every morning
I drive my car in reverse down the wrong side of the highway.
I find that I get to work a lot quicker like this than I do
hanging from the leg of a helicopter or trying to water-ski from a bus.
Today
I’m clad in full medieval knight armor and a neck tie
and I enter my office building laughing hysterically at the vomiting nuns
attempting to run up the incorrect side of the escalator.
I piously wave hello to my boss who is wearing a Hannibal Lecter mask and
walking like a crab through random offices, kicking left-handed people in the nuts.
Stepping into my cubicle, it quickly becomes apparent that
my computer is again possessed by that pesky demon called Poindexter
whose voice sounds a lot like Paula Abdul.
Poindexter insinuates that I should put on a toupee even though I’m not bald.
I disagree and we get into a heated debate about the telepathic messages
being sent to me
to and from Nancy Grace’s testicles.
My co-worker, who dresses like a Franciscan Monk, stops by and
tells me in Gregorian chant that a pack of rabid spider monkeys
busted out of the air conditioning vents yesterday and
poked the Accounts Receivable people with sharp objects,
in unmentionable places,
but fortunately this hasn’t happened yet today.
He warns me to be careful the next time I check my email.
(During the last animal attack in our department,
a flatulent moose in a three piece suit
goose danced into my cubicle,
made fun of my socks, and then cursed at me in Japanese
before kicking over a water cooler and jumping out the window.)
《卑語》!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yet again
one of the two-headed, cross-eyed cyclops ladies from Processing
violently juts up through the laminated floor
like a reanimated corpse coming out of its grave,
and crawls up on my desk and starts to play a flute with her ass.
I retort by slapping myself in the face and
hopping on one leg in a circular pattern singing “Hava Nagila.”
She then dives back through the floor.
It’s things like this that cause me to wonder what would happen
if the entire population of China were to do aerobics simultaneously.
RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Skeleton ass man falls from the ceiling and
flicks an androgynous mailroom employee’s ear whilst
googling Lady GaGa on an imaginary laptop as he moves his bowels
at an office plant and gives himself (and others) purple nurples.
I wish he’d quit doing that.
Suddenly Poindexter disappears and my computer screen transforms into
the parallel universe from the movie “Poltergeist” and pulls me into it,
and I’m now on a sunny, crystal white beach lapped by purple waters,
wearing a gorilla suit, and parasailing backwards with an umbrella.
UNTIL
my boss shows up surfing sideways on a hoverboard and kicks me in the nuts,
causing me to fall into the water and get swallowed by a whale and
once inside the whale’s belly,
an obstreperous gang of spider monkeys in leather pants
try to yank a toupee that doesn’t exist off my head and
angrily blame me for making their children gay.
AND THIS WASN’T SIMILAR AT ALL TO LAST NIGHT WHEN I SAW A PRIEST WITH AN EYE PATCH WALKING WITH A LIMP
AND PLAYING THE BAGPIPES IN SEVERAL PUBLIC BATHROOMS.
And, you know, just don’t see a lot of priests with eye patches playing the bagpipes in public bathrooms anymore and that kinda pisses me off.
