The FYC: "Set Your Nightsticks on 'Whomp'."

1/25/2007

"Set Your Nightsticks on 'Whomp'."

Have you ever woken up, started getting ready for work, then noticed that there’s an alligator in your bathroom and all of a sudden you realize that you’re not actually brushing your teeth while throwing on a polo ("Damn it, I got toothpast on my shirt again!"), you’re still in bed dreaming? So you wake up, put your jeans and boots on, start tiptoeing around your apartment (man, I love the hardwood floor and all but not waking up my neighbor is quickly becoming an all-consuming passion of mine), grab a diet coke from the fridge, and notice that your living room is on fire, but it's okay because Ed O'Neill is there to put it out ... and god damn it, you did it again! And this continues to happen for three to seven more times, and the next thing you know you’re two and a half hours late for work? And you're kind of waiting for the 1981 Baltimore Orioles to walk into your office, because you're still not sure if you're awake or not?

Yeah... Me neither.

This lack of -- what’s it called? -- “sunlight” while waking up to get ready for the third shifty is really getting to me. While some of youse have your smell of crackling bacon (don’t step on that Foreman getting out of bed, though!), cockeling of roosters, and searing giant balls of fire to wake you up, I just lie in bed with the soft glow of ~~electric sex~~ the street light in my back alley creeping through my blinds, wondering whether or not I am actually awake. I’m beginning to think that the electric yellow has got me by the brain banana.

Now, if you excuse me, I need to get back to work, guarding my ~~giant pile of sugar~~ company’s network. What do you think I do all day? Write blogs?