Ramblings from a mad guest blogger

Tap tap...

Is this thing on?

*ahem*

Oh hai! It's me, J. I'll be your blog sitter for today. Like Rosalie down there, I had a stressful time figuring out what to write. (Shut it Anon, if you even give me any lip I swear, I'll call my hoodoo voodoo people and F some S up. Feel me?) (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, read the comments section from yesterday.)

So, who am I and what am I doing here? Well, I'm a blogger, I guess (Am I? I have no idea. I have a blog, how 'bout that?) and Susannah invited me to entertain you for the day. My own blog is a hodgepodge, really. A mushy mishmash of me ranting and raving about my "feelings", things that piss me off, all while coveting some hot ass shoes I can't afford. I really have no idea what I'm talking about half the time. (There, did I pimp myself out enough with those cleverly embedded links?) (Also, do you love my love for parenthetical expressions?)

Soooo, annnnyway, I didn't know what to write for my bloggysitter post. Then the following thing happened at work yesterday and my fountain of hate started spewing forth green frothy words. They bubbled up, erupting in a fantastic display of goo and ooze. So I'm setting up a fan, turning that sucker on high, and letting the words splatter here, all over Susannah's blog, for your reading enjoyment. Here goes... (boy I hope I didn't oversell this story with such a grand set up. Now you're all going to be disappointed. Sigh.)

Yesterday afternoon, while eating my lunch at my desk, I noticed something. Something that was on the floor, near my toes. Something that appeared to be, upon further inspection, a mouse. A dead mouse. A rotting, substantially decayed dead mouse. I looked a little closer. Yes. That's exactly what it was.


So I did what any strong, independent, low maintenance woman would do. I IM'd my friend/coworker Matt and told him to ahhgetthefuckuphereimmediatelyandgetridofitewwgross! Actually, the conversation went more like this:

J: um Matt?
matt: what?
J: i think there is a rotting mouse carcass under my desk
matt: oh gross
J: in fact, i'm sure of it
J: um
J: ;alksjd;laksjdf;laksjdf;lkasjdf
J: i can't deal
J: what do i do
J: i can't touch it
J: ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
matt: facilities? that seems like something they'd fix, right?
J: nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, they'll take forever!!!!!!!!
J: now now now now
J: GET IT OUT OF HERE
J: RIGHT NOW
J: it's been there for a while i can tell
J: there is some serious decayage going on
J: I CAN'T STOP STARING AT IT
J: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
J: GROSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
matt: gross
J: ah;lsjf;alskfj;alskjf;lasjdf;laksjdf;laskjf;lasjdf
J: HELP ME!
matt: ugh
matt: i hate you

Then Matt put down his homemade chicken lunch meat and cheese sandwich (who the eff eats chicken lunch meat btw? Gross. Sorry, Matt.) and came up to rescue me. He kindly removed the offending carcass and disposed of it (not in my trashcan as I adamantly instructed.)

Fast forward a few hours...

I remember the incident (I had blocked it out temporarily so as not to barf my spinach and rice lunch concoction all over my office) and, being the generous person I am, decide to let an officemate of mine know.

[Piece of background information that will make the story better #1: I moved into my current office not too long ago. There is a 'wall' which is more of a partition that separates my office from a cubicle area where we store bins with files and such. Rotting Mickey was lying under the partition, between my office and the cubicle outside. My officemate often accesses the bins and files located in close proximity to where the mouse kicked it.

[Piece of background information that will make the story better#2: Said officemate has issues. 'Nuff said.]

Still with me? Good... recap: so, I decided to let my officemate know about the filthy dead vermin 'cause I'm all generous and shit.

Me: Hey, Officemate. Just a heads up - there was a rotting mouse lying on my floor, I think it came from underneath. Must've been there a little while, too, cause it didn't even smell. So if you are going through bins and stuff, be careful.

Officemate: Oh, that must have been the one from a year ago.

Me: Huh?

Officemate: There was a dead mouse under there a year ago. I guess no one cleaned it up.

Then my head exploded and I died.

The End.