teh linkyfood, it wubs me
In the guise of aliveness, I present two things:THING THE FIRST: should you wish to continue the harmless cycle of attention-whoreness that Valentine's Day perpetuates, consider doing Valentines online. If for no other reason that if I see my friends doing this online, I'll feel less guilty about not sitting down and actually designing/printing/mailing actual creative/funny/amusing/thoughtful/touching/smarmy Vallies on my own. I have the best of intentions, except on Tuesdays when I know I always have the worst of intentions, but unless I can get around to asexually budding off a clone in the next twenty minutes, I don't think the clone will have developed enough fine motor skills to properly address envelopes by 14 February, leaving me out of luck and you guys with no love-mails from me.
Get your own valentinr (Thanks simultaneously to Angel, aka offensive mango, and Russ, aka arkhamrefugee on LJ, for the link.)
THING THE SECOND: a link to the custom-made shirt I created and ordered on customink.com. I've accepted that I'll never beat the 'lipstick librarian' rap while at my current job, so I might as well embrace it.
I'd like to thank the friends who suggested such lovely taglines as…
"feel free to check my bindings"
"lipstick librarians prefer to be leather bound"
"librarians do it in the shelves"
"they sure are stacked"
I will continue to pretend that I am vaguely traumatized (the 'but she was wearing a short skirt' defense fails when I'm forced to admit that I made up a few of my own that were just as bad) and you will all continue to pretend to believe me.
I will now huddle up in my house and wait, bemusedly, to see if the mythical HALF INCH OF SLEET actually falls on Huntsville, paralyzing the traffic system, causing the soccer moms to crash their SUVs into whatever soccer moms crash their SUVs into while calling their friends and saying "OMG THERE'S HALF AN INCH OF MELTY SLEET HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DRIVE IN THIS?" and maybe … just maybe … giving me the opportunity to sleep in tomorrow.
Whatever.
I'll strap the pantyhose on and see you at the library bright and bloody early tomorrow. I've got enough Splenda, creamer, and tea to last until the apocalypse, which, according to my to-do list, I am scheduled to finish beta-testing prior to lunch. Right after fixing the Chinese-language sign that was my nemesis today…
So! How many of you read this and said, 'Hey, that sounds like the humor of someone who just worked a ten-hour day!'? Those of you who did are all winners and can come over to my house and claim the unbaked chocolate chip cookie dough and eat it out of the bag. Just, uh, wash the spoon you licked before you stick it back in the bag, mmmkay?
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