their, they're. it'll bee okay.

I've long delighted in morons misspelling their insults of others' intelligence. I give you this masturbating chimpanzee, berating the conclusions of the very agencies that give him his information.

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absent

Former colleague Amy (no, the other one) has a new "executive coach." He gave her an assignment, which somehow became my assignment.

"Can you send 5-6 adjectives that describe me on my best day and 5-6 other adjectives that describe me on my worst day? Thanks!"

I lie, of course. She didn't say thanks.

Know what's really annoying me, though? I can't think of any negative adjectives. When "absent" is the first that comes to mind, you are a repugnantly pleasant co-worker.

parity

For reasons I cannot understand, the sidewalk going through my front yard is ten feet wide. Combine that with severe winters and laziness, and you purchase a snow-blower. It made quick work of my sidewalk, so I did my neighbor's, too. He did, after all, blow all of my leaves to the curb in the fall.

"I have a driveway too, you know!" he yelled out his front door. 

yeah, she's a trifling friend indeed

2017

When I returned to Porny's  barstool after an 18 month absence, she delightedly gave me many, many free drinks. This has happened neither before nor since, but given our reunion and my intent to stay, it seemed appropriate. The room was starting to spin a bit when a beautiful woman sat next to me.

"Oh. My. God." Porny shrieked. "You two have GOT to meet one another!" It was her friend. Let's call the hot friend Ivanka.

In a come-to-Jesus conversation later, I explained things to Porny. "You can incapacitate me. You can introduce me to your hot friends. But you cannot do both!"

The damage was done. I had been sloppy, and although Ivanka remained polite in a "Hey, how are you?" way, that was always quickly followed by a display of her back. Can't really blame her.

Yesterday

The homewrecker I kicked out of my life, let's call her Melania, started texting me about her financial troubles. She texted me realtime, as events developed. Her parents said no to helping her. The payday advance place said no. Her bank said no. Her grandparents said no. She told me the exact amount she needed. She called several of these nos "my last option" and said she was having a nervous breakdown about finances.

"Why don't you ask Scumdad? Or is he only good for wetting his dick in his abandoned infant's godmother?" I said in my imagination.

"That's awful," I said in reality, relying on the dumb-guy routine to frustrate her into giving up.

Last night

"John!" Porny exclaimed. "What are you doing here? You never come on a Wednesday night."

"Melania's been vigourously panning for gold, and I'm out of alcohol."

I shared with her what was going on. Her hot friend Ivanka was there and perked up.

"What do you do for a living?" she interrupted with urgency. "Do you have a wife?"

My hand to God, people. That's exactly how she phrased it.

Later on, I told Porny a story. Or I tried to. "I went out with my old Microsoft boss, and—"

"YOU WORKED AT MICROSOFT?!" whirled Ivanka.

"Oops," I said, looking at my phone. "My Uber's here. Gotta go."

And then I went outside, requested an Uber, and waited in the freezing cold.