Argh, what a morning. I've got the little background trumpet - ish music from the new Foster's ad campaign running ceaselessly in my mental ear. From their website:
Foster's Group Limited is a global premium - branded beverage company dedicated to delivering quality products enjoyed by millions around the world every day. And now we're in your head, bitch!
In addition to the downunder lager music, there is an incredibly high - pitched beeping device somewhere on the train, operating at a threshold just below dog - hearing, which is boring its way through my tympanums and making my skull bleed.
This does note bode well for the day. Not well at all.
On the plus side, I look fabulous today. Orange and blue and yellow, doncha know. Too bad it's wasted at the office.
Finally: I think that Mr. Sullivan's depression threshold is much too low. "Nothing is more depressing," apparently, than a bunch of Limbaugh fans in Club Gitmo tee shirts.
I, myself, am much more depressed by the fact that no one - - no one - - has bought an Official Astonished Head Neon George tee shirt. I'm telling you, you don't know what you're missing. I was really counting on the one measly dollar I make off of each shirt to defray the costs of my spleen replacement. Now I'm going to have to make one out of a Dixie cup and some waxed paper, and those don't work nearly as well as the real thing.
So, when I go all green and bloaty, it'll be your fault.
All I want is my iced coffee and my chilled blueberry muffin. That will set things aright, I'm sure.
- - -
UPDATE:
They... didn't make any iced coffee this morning.
So they made me an "iced Americano," which is three shots of iced espresso.
That'll work.
