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To The Man Who Leaned Over The Desk Two Inches From Death

Published 18.3.05 by Porkchop | E-mail this post

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I have a sweatshirt on. You cannot see down my shirt. No matter how hard you try.

I know a concept called "personal space" may be a bit foreign to you. But, my Daddy taught me to bite. Hard. So, I would watch it there if I were you. Bucko.

I never wear sweatshirts to work. First time ever, actually. It was an act of God that I woke up late this morning, so I did not dress as I usually would. That's right. Protecting me from your creepy, prying eyes.



So, consider this an act of God when I personally gouge your eyes out.

4 Responses to “To The Man Who Leaned Over The Desk Two Inches From Death”

  1. Blogger Jon  on March 18, 2005 4:09 PM  

    Yes, but I still want to know what a "PageantBarbie fetish type" is?

  2. Blogger Porkchop  on March 18, 2005 4:18 PM  

    The type that is attracted to her, not just because she is gorgeous, but because she has blonde hair.

    The type that thinks pageant=stupid, consiquently Joy=easy.

    The type that shouts, on a date "WOOHOO! Chinese food and a blonde! I AM ON TOP OF THE WORLD!"

    The type that underestimates the sting in my slap and the infection of my bite.

  3. Blogger Jon  on March 19, 2005 12:29 PM  

    Oh, I thought it was the type of guy SHE has a thing for.

    Is she really that good looking? Or is to just all the makeup and hairspray and duct tape?

  4. Blogger Porkchop  on March 21, 2005 8:47 AM  

    She IS that gorgeous.

    Gawd! What a question! Like I would be related to a semi-pretty person. Or semi-ugly person for that matter.

    In this family, you were killed at birth if you were not freakishly gorgeous.

    Does that answer your question?

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

cookies for troops


I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.


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