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Candy
Tim Johnson strikes again.

Happy Facebook Friday
[audio:weeks_over.mp3] 

I want to give a shout out to the driver of the hotel airport shuttle that drove my drunk ass home last night. I was in no shape to walk after Parties in the Plaza – especially when I was carrying an extra-large pepperoni pie.

Best thing I ever did, Clark.

I was talking on the phone with a friend today. It had been a while since we last spoke, so we were talking about his kids.

“What’s your daughter’s name?” I asked.

“Presley,” he replied.

“What’s your son’s name?”

“Cash.”

“Geez, what did you name your dog – Bono?”

I received an email earlier this week from a vice-president. It was probably sent to a few hundred people. Some numb nut ass-kisser replied to all, and asked a stupid question.

The VP sent another email to everyone, and wrote, “Please don’t reply to all.”

I replied to all, and wrote, “Okay.”

I think my chances for advancement are dwindling.

SOB Translation of the Day

Quote: “I be on that plan that the government pays fo.”

Translation: “I’m using taxpayer money to pay my rent.”

I got a haircut yesterday from the same Indian (customer support; not casino) that cut it the last time. I distinctly remember her because (a) she took frickin’ forever, and (b) she hummed some whacky Hindu song in my ear the entire time.

I swear I can’t understand a word she is saying. Yesterday, she was yapping something about scissors and clippers. I was in a hurry, so I just pointed to the clippers.

I now look like Sergeant Hulka.

Hello I’m sorry, I lost myself. I think I thought you were someone else.