Don't ask me to explain that title, it'll be a lot easier if you just think of me as that guy who comes up with blog post titles so obscure that it would take a week's worth of digging through Wikkipedia and an extensive knowledge of 12th century Germanic tribesmen's hunting habits to make sense of.
I think I might forego the usual frivolities this morning and go straight for the frivolities.
I saw a pair of H2's headed down the Interstate this morning, one black, one white. It looked like some sort of existential racial car chase scene.
I don't dare tell my coworkers that I miss having the fake ficus in the Men's room. See, I'm secretly agoraphobic. My restroom at home is just large enough for one half an adult and two cats, one of which is a kitten, so having a restroom at work that is almost as large as a prison cell (it's 7' X 8' here if you were curious) is kind of frightening, in a bowel-tightening sort of way. The ficus helped to sort of break up that huge space between the toilet and the basin, and made it more natural, more 'bear s**tting in the woods,' which I found rather appealing. Now that the Xmas tree is down the ficus had to return up front, and Vulgar Wizard laughed at my pathetic request for a new fake ficus.
A poo post. How the mighty have fallen.
Ah, what the hell, if Scaryduck can do it and achieve world-wide fame then why can't I?