Quickly,

I'm swamped today. A good swamped, not like ass swaped. Got this email just now as a response to a case I opened:

Hi Ryan,

Your petition start to being proccess,


Thanks,

Lizbeth

Really?

Hi Lizbeth,

I'm sorry, you forgot almost all of the vowels in your name, as well as ALL OF YOUR PRESENT 3RD SINGULAR FORMS OF 'BE',

Thanks,

Rn

Monday funday

The only way i'm going to finish this novel is if I write as much as possible at work without getting fired. Worst timing ever what with this failing economy and friends and family alike getting swiped by the lay off pendulum. I'm attempting to work better, which includes getting along with co-workers better. It's the latest in a series of begrudgingly accepted tasks (most of which have to do with either work or cleaning my house). Once in a while though Steve comes out with gems like "This is a pain in the Rumpus McDumpus", and things start looking plausible.

Another week!

Doin' it, like LL

Now that I think about it, it's been almost two full weeks since I've done any improv. I'm planning on going to the Asylum house teams show tonight. But assuming I'm asked to jump into the lottery (if I'm not then message received, over and out) this will be my first time in weeks doing improv.

I wish there was a better way to say that without the "doing". Doing improv. It sounds gross. Like I'm dipping something in it.

At any rate, I'll be doing improv tonight. I hope I'm not overrun by the house teamers as I hear this round is quite clever. So consequently I'll be on my guard all night, which always makes for a great scene. Come see me flounder and begin my improv recovery.

Geesh.

this beast is hanging off my window at work

question: should i get the kids and head underground?