meetingdoodles.jpg People are always scheduling meetings on Monday mornings. It's like they're walking up to you and snapping their fingers right on your forehead. I mean, they have to know that's a horrible time to hold a meeting. Granted, there's no such thing as a good time to hold a meeting. As we all know, meetings are nothing but opportunities for miserable stunted jerks to play their dumb power games. You can demur all you want, but it's a scientific fact, Jim. Look it up. It's like some primeval force, the scabrous loathsome slugs slowly turning in unison to make their hideous way toward a conference room. It's enough to cause projectile vomiting on the part of sentient folks. Which occurrence provides a blessed if momentary respite from the foul purulent gusts of idiot wind escaping from the fetid orifices of these suited vermin. Am I being a tad harsh? Ha! I haven't even started! These are the people who heap themselves by the thousands into glass buildings so they can yammer at each other ad infinitum and tickle their dirty little keyboards until their tendons curl up and pretend they're contributing to the common weal, as opposed, say, to people who actually build houses and grow turnips. They've invented their own jobs! They've created their own reason for being! They're a tautology! They're gack--cuk--

Hello, everyone, this is Nurse Whidbey. I'm afraid our little friend Sparky missed his nap time today and is a wee bit cranky. Nothing a nice big hypodermic needle can't fix. Ta ta.