I'm savvy enough of a social media guy to occasionally read the tracking of whose reading what I write. It's looks pretty good except on Fridays when the lines on the graph plummet.
On Friday's you people suck.
I don't blame you.
We're all excited it's Friday.
Who want to read?
Who wants to do much anything except ... PARTY!!!!! ... however you define it.
But it's not officially the weekend yet. I have lots of work to do today.
Making it worse, the managing partner is in her office, clamoring around and banging stuff. Occasionally she glares this way so I'm trying to look very busy.
Goddess is passed out in the kitchen and Winston, The Little Gay Dog, is wearing a sweater vest that reads, "Homosexual Agenda ... spend time with the family ... be treated equally ... buy milk" while he kisses the managing partner's ass.
His nose is so freaking brown!
Literally!
The little son-of-a-bitch (and I mean that literally too)!
Gypsy, the gender confused, paranoid personality disordered cat, is giving himself a bath in the kitchen sink which is just ... bizarre.
The Cat Lady has the day off and is on her back deck wearing a dirty yellow bathrobe, fuzzy pink slippers, and a blue towel wrapped around her head so she looks like Marge Simpson on meth. She's staring at a weed whacker. Her buff boyfriend of the week is lighting candles in her bedroom. I'm trying very hard to not think about what they're up to.
I just threw up in my mouth a little thinking about it.
The managing partner just stormed out of my outdoor office. She told me a bunch of stuff, apparently each thing important, but I have no idea what she said.
I'm trying to concentrate on writing.
Besides it's Pirate Fest on Tybee Island and I wonder how we're dressing. Our friend Wen McNally is evidently wearing an eye patch and flip flops.
It's going to be hard for Sarah and I to top that costume!
Winston storms into my office, lays at my feet and starts licking his G-spot.
I guess his weekend is starting early.
I wish mine could too but I have to finish this blog no one's going to read anyway.
It's Friday.
