I certainly hope you’re having a pleasant Monday afternoon, because mine is getting suckier by the minute. I have a website client in Colorado who just hired a go-getter marketing dude named Warren (people still name their children Warren?) who called a little while ago to “brainstorm” with me and find out if I’m “open to new ideas.”
New ideas? I don’t even like OLD ideas any more, Einstein. I’m a senior citizen! I’M RETIRING! Apparently Warren wants me to coordinate my client’s website with social media, add Google Analytics, install new header coding, update to all-new cascading HTML style sheets and attempt a host of other insane and tedious horseshit that interests me as much as
root canal. He doesn’t know it yet — I’m saving this bombshell for our next conversation — but there’s no way in hell I’m doing ANY of it. Not only don’t I give a crap about style sheets and header codes, I don’t even want to wear shoes or answer the phone.
For the immediate future the only items on my agenda are meatloaf and
Chia Seed Pudding. In other words,
dinner.
Show of hands. Anybody have a stroke when you saw Mr. Balls in my
last post? Brace yourself, people. There’s more.
It’s pretty easy to figure out what George Zimmerman’s been up to since he murdered Trayvon Martin 14 months ago
— cheeseburgers? pizza? — and his recently-expanded face helped Mr. Balls snag first-place in the Howdygram’s lookalike contest. For the record, there was no runner-up.
Nice of you to stop by. Tell your friends, okay?
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