I Own Your Souls

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Apparently, the danw of the internet age has finially hit our office. But in order to support such a change, we are getting a computer and computer stand for everyone to use.

Computer stand.

One of those harmless flat little boxes that once opened is akin to pandora's box. Lots of screws, allen wrenches, flat panels and wheels that snap. And, of course, the obligitory confusing instructions that look as if they are written in greek.

Guess who was elected, in an office of thirteen men, to put the computer stand together?

Of course. Porkchop.

I really think it was an excuse to watch me kneel on the floor in a skirt and lean over in my silk shirt. Sadly, I think I can probably outweld them all with a screwdriver or allen wrench.

This is not eqaulity. This is PATHETIC.

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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.

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.

the past


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