There are no bad owners, only bad dogs


I'm expecting to find nail clippings in the conference room.

I've been up the stairs, down the stairs, and back up since I got to work. The first time up, there was a nasty-ass disgusting Q-tip(tm) lying on the landing in the stairwell. Who the hell carries Q-tips around with them so they can clean their earholes on the stairs at work. Sick bastards.

Second time, down the stairs. Offending Q-tip present and accounted for.

Third time, up the stairs. Q-tip now gone, but the piece of Cheez-It that had accompanied it was still there. Someone came by and removed the Q-tip but left the Cheez-It. I work with weirdos.

On the plus side, my cocoa butter regime is working and I smell more like a stripper every day. What an epiphany -- one week ago, if someone had told me that I smell like a stripper, I would have been offended. Now the scales have fallen from my nose and I can smell clearly.

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