Don't Sound Like No Sonnet

If you’re so clever, then why
Are you on your own tonight?
- The Smiths

Some insidious bug has been going around and striking folks down with the flu or other small (but very inconvenient and discomfiting) illnesses. Since the week began, I’ve been nagged at by stubborn headaches and the creeping sense that a fever was crouched and waiting for me at the next corner, but did I act sensibly about this? No! I went ahead and smoked like a chimney, kept late nights, and basically made myself into Work’s whipping boy.

Anyway, I had to miss work today on account of my awful state. I woke up with a fever and felt like I had an anvil sitting squarely inside my head, lodged right between my cranium and my nasal cavity.

I hope to get better pronto, so I’ve been plugging myself with Vitamin C and paracetamol and Dole Pine-Orange juice in the hopes that my immune system might get the goddamn message and shape up on the double. There is no way I’m staying sick, I absolutely forbid it. I mean, I got a meeting slated for Friday, plus the AMCI training on Sunday, and then my bandmates and I are supposed to do a jam session this same weekend, so how am I supposed to sing if my throat is shot?

God, my head hurts.

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Be Happy Be Arbitrary Part Three:



Dear Santa,

I know Christmas is more than half a year away, but please humor me. I would like to stop attracting creepy security guards, because the attention makes me very uncomfortable, and I have no dreams of dating any creepy security guards. In other words, I want to find out how I can turn off this mechanism that seems to draw creepy security guards to me. O Santa, O benevolent Yuletide fatty, heed my call! I don’t want to have to go back to the office building and have that guard tailing me again and asking me questions about my marital status.

Also, please give me money and a sexy bodeh if you can, and smite mine enemies while you’re at it.

Ingatz in da North Polezzz! Tnx! Mwahugzzzz! K? K!

Your loving fan,
Peachy A. Paderna

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Earlier this week, while I was online and in the office:

b----r: hi!
peachypaderna: Ah, who’s this, please?
b----r: my name is biggi, 27F...
peachypaderna: Do I know you?
b----r: aren’t u a hot lady?
peachypaderna: Nope, I'm actually a guy. My name is Peachy, but I'm a 16-year old boy and I have bad facial acne.
b----r: sorry. then i thought u are a friend of mine ....
b----r: bye!
peachypaderna: Bye!

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To the little nazi prick with an overinflated sense of self:

I want you to shut up about it. It was one night and it was a mistake and you were terrible in bed.
.