I now have about six pounds of candy on my desk.

The bothersome one rummages through the bag like he's looking for lost treasure.


On the flyer, I entitled the event the annual kick ass pizza party then I heard "I don't think you can say ass."

Oh, miss, you don't understand. I can say all sorts of things. Because I'm a writer, damn it.

Well that just got real old real fast. Damn it.

Damn it. Damn it to Hell!



Dude, just leave. I really don't care. I don't care if you're leaving early. I don't care that you're going to meet the wife. I don't care. I just don't care. Just go. Please. Go.



So, there are just minutes of my day left and it's too late to start something new and it's too close to closing to care about finishing anything.