I'll take Potpourri for $400, Alex

Yes, I am not dead. Sorry to disappoint. I have just been working my little bitch-ass into an early grave. September is supposed to be a lighter month (I can ride a bike again) in terms of my work load, but that just ain’t happening this time for some reason. Which is filling me with immense dread, because October is usually the rip-roaring fuckfest of my personal time spent on work, and work-related events, and evening programs, and such what and this one doesn't look any different. Not that I am complaining, mind you. Well, actually I am, but still: I don’t want to sound like a whiny ass little bitch.

On a lighter note, someone at work got fired this week. It wasn’t me, which was good, but it wasn’t that stupid $2 tranny hooker either, which was bad. Instead, it was the hot straight bear. Sigh. I could so have given him an “after school special” if you know what I mean. I could have “mentored” his ass REAL good. I, well, insert your favorite entendre, suggestive phrase, or whatever, because I am just too fucking tired to go on in this vein. I am going to pick back up next week, (I promise) because I think it will be the last week until November that I won’t be at work two or three nights a week. Shit, I wish I wasn’t so dedicated. Well, that or I was better hung: then I could be a porn star. I already have my name picked out: Mike Rotch. Say it out loud: you’ll get it.