Said no one.
First off, it’s raining. Secondly, I had to commute from Jersey this morning. With Jersians. And ended up getting to work EARLY. I’m trying to make a point here, peeps, rollin’ in all late all the time and shit. I’ve actually been meaning to take a photo of the gold art deco monstrosity that is the building I work in. I’ll getontappa that asap. For now, see this dreary mapquest aerial picture of 801 Second Ave and be satisfied:
UGH. Just look at all the gray. And that one tree is like “shit sux.” And did I mention that the 19th floor of 801 Second Ave. has a bust of the suit in charge who decided I won’t have a job anymore. Yeah, this isn’t a posthumous dedication or anything – dude just decided to get a bust of himself so he could walk by it everyday, maybe rub it & get another mil’ to go foxhunting or whateverthefuck. Corporate America is the epitome of men with small penises who drive fast cars.
But on a lighter note, the commute OUT to Jersey on Saturday gave me a moment to get my “business plan” in order, along with a rough 2 part to do list. The first is pre-end-of-playgirl, and the second is post:
Yeah, I know you can’t read them, but just wanted to give you an idea of how much I love lists. And how much I love gubb.net. I am definitely my father’s daughter.*
*This same father that bought me fall-out pills after 9/11. Yes, that one.