Swashbuckling monkey thieves!

Ok, so the men were in capes, and they wanted money, but settled for a small monkey instead. Maybe they figured a monkey was good for the pirate ship, aye matey?

Baby monkey stolen from Miami primate expert's home
MIAMI — Three masked men in capes stole a baby owl monkey Thursday from the home of a primate expert, police said.

Evans awoke around 4:30 a.m. Thursday and bumped into someone pointing a gun at her in the hallway, police said.

Three men wearing white ski masks and black capes followed her into her bedroom, demanding money.

The men then forced her husband, Robert Cooper, to free Tulip from a cage in the living room.
"They made me let her go. She ran onto my arm and back. Then they grabbed her with a towel," Cooper said.

The one-pound monkey is about the size of a grapefruit, Evans said. She said Tulip tends to be aggressive with people she doesn't know and would probably try to bite her captors.
June 24, 2005 - 5:46 a.m. CDTCopyright 2005, The Associated Press.


Drugs, coffee, and Kevin Spacey

You should see the amount of expired drugs they throw away here. Why don't they give them to patients that need them before they go out of date? If it wasn't illegal, I could make buckets of money selling all kinds of meds that cost $200 a month. (No, no narcotics, you addicts)...There's about a bazillion dollars worth of Ditropan XL sitting in a trash bag right now, you know the commercial "cause I don't have to go right now", la da de da...

We have a new empoyee here at work. I don't know where they got this one from, but she's past retirement age, is "afraid" of the computer, and said that at her last job, she "made the coffee and took messages". I really want to know where, so I can go apply there. I can make some damn good coffee.

I am in love with Kevin Spacey. That man is delicious.


We're all sick!

If you're one of those people who never go to the doctor because you feel just fine, let me tell you something - you're sick, you just don't know it yet! I'm sure you're suffering from acute polyarthritic hemophobic Sucker-Williams colonoscopic disease. If you go to the doctor, and tell him that you're having trouble feeling sick, staying in bed, or trouble a. overeating, or b. undereating, you must have numerous maladies and will be prescribed medication which will, in turn, cause you to have a real, bona fide problem.

I read in the paper today that athletes were being diagnosed with having exercise-induced asthma. It caught my eye because a few months ago I thought that I should probably try not to weigh as much as a small elephant, and subsequently started exercising at the Y.
I went to the doctor a few weeks later and complained about dizziness and shortness of breath after exercising.(yes, I know I complain about everything and am always thinking I have an impending heart attack) Anywho, he told me I had exercise-induced asthma, and prescribed me an Advair inhaler. Now, if he was a not-so-tactful doctor, he would have told me that I am just too lazy and fat to be trying to run on the treadmill. But, instead, he tells me I have asthma. Why do we always have to be diagnosed with something? I think that if I were just a little more nutso than I am now, I would've happily accepted my new status as an Asthmatic. Maybe I could have applied for a handicapped placard on the basis that walking all the way into Wal-Mart from a NORMAL parking space would cause me undue stress and thus trigger an asthma attack. Hey, maybe it's not too late!


Clopety clop

Take off those fucking shoes. You sound like an elephant stomping down the hall. No one wants to hear you barging around the office, your stomach competing with your tits to lead the way. By the way, hun, no one likes to look at your bloated, distended rolls stuffed into your tight shirt. Just thought you should know. I'm sure the black drug rep that you throw yourself at enjoys the show, though. I hear they like desperate white girls. Especially loud ones with 4 kids. That is how many you have, isn't it? One more wouldn't hurt, especially if it's "biracial". I'm sure there's some sort of special welfare program you could qualify for. I hope you break a fat little ankle clomping around in those fuckers.


Keep on truckin'

Your grasp of managerial bullshit amazes me. I only wish you could be more effective at it. And what the fuck is up with that squeaking thing you do? Is that a noise for the mothership to recognize you and come pick your sorry ass up? If I hear you grunting one more time, I'm going to need Xanax.