My job is a real pressure cooker. Yesterday afternoon, my boss blew up at me. She had run out of fertilizer for her office plants and blamed me. That woman is a real terror. My morale is being ground down to zero. It felt like my head was going to explode. On top of that, somebody spilled a box of paper clips in the break room and it felt like I was walking on ball bearings. After work, I had a couple beers with my buddy Mohammed down at the el-Tikrit Bar and Grill. We both had pulled-pork submarine sandwiches. They're called the Obama Special and they are the bomb. One is plenty but two is suicide, which is why I had to loosen the buttons on my vest. Then we played a game of darts. They have those new darts shaped like little guided missiles but I couldn't hit the target. My buddy Sam is way better at launching the missiles than anybody. He throws them so fast that they sound like a low-flying plane...
Of course, everyone who actually loads that page, or for that matter, this one, is ALSO suspect :)