The coven of womanhood is strict. I’ve given out more hugs to passersby than I ever wanted. I also have a ton of blood floating types in my body.
"I’m fiscally conservative in Q1" or maybe just a simple ":(" ?
Wheat Grass: You are health conscious and enjoy taste bud masochism. Scotch: You are a lawyer and you’ve been to 13% of your son’s baseball games.
It's an awful feeling, receiving DECAFFEINATED espresso. Unfortunately, the world doesn't give you refunds on your feelings. I would know.
Once dressed, I sit at my desk and say a quick prayer to Dionysus. Then I take hold of the mighty pen and let his spirit take hold of my body.
I hate Irv, my 66-year-old co-worker who's retiring at the end of the month. He's been gloating about it since I started working with him 7 years ago.
The ride starts up and our car whips around and gathers speed. "HOLY SHIT we're heading straight for the fence!" my coffee conscience says.
Boy meets girl and it's love at first sight. They both go to grab the same latte, but they can't because their barista has been DEAD FOR THE PAST SIXTEEN YEARS.
The company manual has everything from an optimistic “Career Progression” to shrug-worthy “Credit Card, Corporate” but nothinganything under “Coffee Machine, Operating Safely.”
What Michelle needs to realize is that I’m not here to waste my time. But until she texts back, that's exactly what I'll be doing.
Crap! Crap! Crap! Brain, you idiot, what did you just do? You don't want soymilk. Why did you say that? Ok, you can fix this, THINK...
His eyes were wild, and thin wisps of his silver hair shuddered in the wind. “Fuck you!” he shouted while thrusting a Crypt Keeper finger in my face.