*So* Sick of Britney Spears and Her Shit

Britney Spears has checked into rehab.

Whoop-de-fucking-doo.

Britney Spears has checked into a clinic, and I have officially decided that these are the end days. You know why? Because it seems like all I see on the news lately are celebrities being stupid, or dying, or showing their love pudding, or shaving their heads, or doing one of a hundred other stupid, attention-seeking activities that are sure to land them on the front page of any trashy celebrity magazine or even the respectable news reporting agencies.

I mean, seriously. Who really gives a shit about Britney Spears anymore? I don’t…that’s obvious. But how many of you actually care that she is checking herself into a rehabilitation “clinic”?

I used quotation marks to illustrate the point that I don’t believe Ms. Spears is in a real medical clinic to treat addictive disorders such as alcoholism. It’s probably more like a health spa complete with a recording studio and a Swedish guy who rubs her girlie parts while she forgets to raise her child for a few weeks. I’m sure she’s *so* upset at her recent behavior and she’s seeking help, even as we speak.

If you honestly believe that, please come to my house later so I can show you a 6 inch elephant with a 3 foot penis.

Remember when Britney was young and cute and popular?

I totally do. I remember the first time Britney was popular. She was in that hot little outfit and she was singing…some kind of song, I don’t remember because I was too busy trying to figure out if she was old enough to have dirty thoughts about while I masturbated to her video on MTV.

Then she was hot for awhile, in that sexy cute, innocent bend-me-over-my-homework kind of way, but then things changed, and she grew up and got trashier and then tried the whole “I’m a sex goddess” thing like Madonna did…except at least Madonna had the decency to show her boobs.

Then came the period where we forgot about her. It was a good time, filled with joy. I’m pretty sure during this time, we cured several diseases and reached farther into the universe to learn more about the cosmos and ourselves and then oh my God Britney Spears is driving with her baby in the front seat.

Crap. She’s back.

Then came the publicity again. Then the news articles on CNN abashing her behavior, while at the same time hoping for more so they had something new to report and hopefully draw in “the young crowd”.

Then she got drunk. Then she partied. Then she stopped raising her baby. Then she showed her cooter. Then she shaved her head. Now she’s in rehab.

Yawn. Groan. Hack. Puke.

I’m so fucking sick of this crap. If I were to get drunk and shave my head and put my baby at risk and get drunk again and show my dick to the world and then say “can I check into rehab so we can forget all that bad shit I did?” the police would laugh at me all the way to the jail, and there would be nobody to bail me out because my friends would all hate me for being such a moron.

Yet somehow, Britney and others like her get away with whatever they want to because the American public is insane.

Super.

Can’t wait to see what she does next. Oh, and did I mention how much I don’t care about her shit anymore? I don’t think I can stress that enough.

I’m so sick of her shit. I hope she rots in that “clinic” and we all forget her.

***UPDATE***

What a surprise...Britney didn't even last a full day. Shocker!

.

.

Click here for article

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Gee thanks, you fuckers. You bascially told me I'm screwed, but did it in a semi-business like manner. Awesome. And thanks for telling me that there is literally nothing you can do about how long YOU take to ship out an item. Makes me feel all warm inside. They might as well have said, "PS: You are never going to get this item, so please stop trying."

Well screw you, Amazon.com! I didn't want the fucking calendar, anyway.

My Email to Amazon.Com

Dear Amazon.com,

This is the third time I have attempted to purchase this order for the 2007 Far Side Desk Calendar: The Secret Lives of Animals, and it is subsequently the third time I have cancelled the order. Every time I try to order this item (which I have been trying to do for some time now) the expected shipping date is up to 60 days away!!!!

I have never had something take so long to ship before, and I am curious to know why this is? I love using Amazon but if this shipping problem is a new trend, I'll have to do my online shopping somewhere else, I'm afraid. 2 months wait for a DESK CALENDAR is ridiculous.

I just wanted to call this to attention. I know nobody cares, and I doubt anybody will even read this. But I wanted to do it, for my own peace of mind. I've tried to buy this desk calendar in stores but have had no luck. And now, I can't even buy it online because the wait is so long it'll be 2008 before I get it, which doesn't help me.

I know I'm probably screwed, and that is fine, I guess. I'll just have to go to Office Depot and get some lame schedule planner calendar with no funny pictures or anything to keep my interest. Just a dull planner with nothing but sadness and boredom to offer me.

Anyway, just thought you folks at Amazon.com would be interested to know that I am having drama, and there is no calendar at my desk, and I sit in this cubicle with no joy in my life.

Thanks for your time.


PS: Shanshu is in a blog tournament! I think this idea is cool and the fact that I am even a part of it gets me all hot and bothered in my nethers.

So...be sure to check it out over at Ookami Snow's place and see what you think. And if you feel like leaving a "Shanshu should win his first pairing" comment...that would be ok, too.

:)

*So* Sick of Hearing About Anna Nicole Smith

Anna Nicole Smith passed away.

That sucks.

She died under bizarre circumstances.

Not really.

But maybe she was over medicated?

Maybe. Why does it matter?

It's a tragedy! It's unfair!

Yes, that's what death always is. Deal with it. Why do you care so much, anyway?

Because...because she's a celebrity and because her life was cool and because she died!

You're a sheep. Baaaaah!



Seriously, why is this getting so much media attention? The way people are going on and on about this, you would think this was a huge conspiracy, or something that affected the world economy or a viral pandemic that threatened our way of life...something monumental and important.

Why do people care so much about celebrities? I mean, seriously...why the fuck do they get so much attention, no matter what they do? They can be a horrible person who has the mental capacity of a grapefruit, and people swoon over their every pathetic step. People care about what they eat, where they live, what they wear, who they date, when they go to the bathroom, what they wear to the beach...OMG get a fucking life!

I myself could give two shits about celebrities. I don't care who they are divorcing or which rehabilitation clinic they have checked in to, or who is the father of their babies...I don't care. I see them all as pretentious, self-involved losers who spend too much time patting themselves on the back in an effort to feel more self-involved and special in their own little bizarro world. I don't care about their views on religion, or politics, or social problems. I don't think they have any special knowledge or views on the world that are any better than anybody else's.

I do not believe a celebrity can vote better than me. They do not have an inherent wisdom in regards to poverty, disease, or economics. They do not affect world events or political decisions or global conflicts. They are not helping to further the human race.

They are born. They live. They die. Just like me. They are not fucking special.

Anna Nicole Smith bugged me, anyway. She was a stripper who met a rich rich RICH man who fell into her bullshit and made her a rich rich RICH stripper. She was a Playboy model, which is cool, but she wasn't anything more than that, to me. She did a couple of AWFUL movies that made my hair hurt, and then she got fat...then skinny...then drugged up...then clean...then she died.

What a great career she had, too. Hollywood was her true calling, I think. Here is a video clip of the "outtakes" from her movie Skyscraper. It's probably the worst movie ever, and her being naked a lot doesn't save it. Check out her "acting" below:

Did you ever watch her reality show? She was an annoying, mentally fucked up, big breasted lady who couldn't tell you the capital of Texas (it's Austin, by the way) even though she lived there. She was annoying and she was trashy and everytime she talked, she made us all want to punch babies.

Her "show" got horrible ratings and we all made fun of her and most of us hated her and then she dies and all of the sudden it's a horrible, awful thing and we're all so sad about it and talking about how much we miss her.

Puke.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not happy that Anna Nicole Smith died. It's never fun to hear about someone dying young, especially suddenly. It's shocking and it's upsetting and it sucks. But it doesn't deserve all this attention, either.

Everyday I visit CNN and everyday I see something about Anna Nicole Smith on there. Autopsy results, legal battles, custody disputes...and now judges ordering embalming procedures.

Now...I'm not a doctor, or a mortician. But I'm pretty sure that you don’t need a JUDGE to order your body to be embalmed after you die. In fact, I'm pretty sure a judge isn't involved with ANYTHING relating to your death, unless you are murdered or something. Why the fuck is a judge taking a personal interest in this death?

Because it's Anna Nicole Smith, and she's a celebrity, and blah blah blah.

I understand the custody battle aspect of this whole case, I really do. There's money to be had, and family members who want it, and lovers who want a piece of the pie. But keeping her body on ice all this time is We Todd Did and it's disgusting and it's bullshit.

I'm so sick of hearing about it, to be honest. She's dead and it sucks, but seriously...stop talking about it. I don't think it's news worthy of front-page status, and I certainly don't think it's more important or world-affecting as say....other news.

Kansas vs. Evolution

Finally! No more insanity.

Kansas Brings Evolution Back to Schools

For many moons now, living in Kansas has been annoying only in the sense that so many people found it frustrating that the state decided to outlaw teaching evolution in classrooms, as it was just a "theory" and had no place in a place of learning. So no Big Bang, no humans evolved from the primordial ooze...nada.

Of course, many of us saw the benefit of teaching BOTH theories on the creation of the universe, and said so. Kansas Board of Education said NO, and the people of Kansas have gotten shit ever since.

Now, don't get me wrong. I think stuff like the clip above are friggin hilarious and I'm glad that residents of Kansas such as myself were able to tell the world that we didn't vote for this crap. I mean, religion and science have always been at war, and most of those battles have been fought within the walls of our classrooms. But to suddenly not allow one or the other will always cause problems and create anger and blah blah blah. You get the idea.

So anyway, without being preachy or without trying to start a debate, I can say I am very happy with Kansas' decision to bring back Evolution in schools. Hatred and repression only causes more problems, and we have to all learn to get along.

Now we just need to figure out a way to keep teachers from fucking our students.

Exploratory Committees and Why They Suck

Speaking of nothing whatsoever, and having no segue way into this of any kind, I was thinking about how completely lame the term “Presidential Exploratory Committee” is. I mean, what the fuck does that phrase have to do with running for President? Seriously…it makes no damn sense. Examine the words:

Presidential: Having to do with, or relating to the Presidency and/or decisions related to said position.

Exploratory: (adj.) Having to do with the act of exploration. To discover new things. To investigate, study, or analyze.

Committee: A group of people who consider, investigate, take action on, or report on a situation or decision.

So, when a person says they have made the decision to form a Presidential Exploratory Committee, are they trying to say that they have formed a group of people to investigate or study the current President? Or are they trying to say that they have formed a group of people to explore or study the act of making presidential decisions or actions? It’s possible that they are saying that they are currently heading up a committee to examine and explore the potential idea for a Presidential campaign to be run sometime in the near future, and that their committee will most likely end up coming to the conclusion that their candidate is the best person qualified for said presidential position.

Or perhaps they are just so full of shit they make up phrases, and want to sound more important than they really are. I bet THAT is the real reason.

Fucking lame.

The best part is, this shows me how full of shit EVERY SINGLE PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATE is, since they all started doing this at the same time. I may be wrong, but I don't recall anybody heading up an "exploratory committee" the last time we voted for a President. That tells me, that one person started doing it recently and then they ALL started doing it, for fear of being outdone or left behind. Like they are so special or smart for using bullshit phrases and expressions to make themselves seem more important, or something?

Double fucking lame.

Now if you excuse me, I have to form a solitary task force whose mission statement revolves around the intended uses of indoor plumbing with the use of porcelain receptacles.


PS: It's my birthday today. Oh, whatever. Don't pretend to give a shit. I'm well aware that a person's birthday is of very little importance to very many people other than the person actually celebrating their birth. For the rest of us, saying "Happy Birthday" has become nothing more than a automatic response, like saying "God bless you" when somebody sneezes.

Superbowl Snack Day

So here I sit, the day after the Superbowl Snack Day in my corporate cubicle hell waiting for the trans-fat coma to subside so I can move my legs again. I know that the Superbowl is similar to Thanksgiving except with nothing but fatty, cholesterol saturated, heart-attack inducing foods rather than turkey and stuffing. People go crazy with the junk food on Superbowl Sunday, and I see nothing wrong with that. Traditions should be maintained and past events should be commemorated…but my dear God in heaven, I’m pretty sure I had a mini-heart attack last night with all the crap I shoveled into my mouth in an effort to avoid nutrition at all costs.

Bean dip, spin dip, nachos, bratwurst, beer, Rotel dip, black pepper jack chips…there was a plethora of hip-jiggling food concoctions in my apartment last night to make all of us in attendance feel as fat and lazy and certain girls who injure themselves while trying to do simple tasks. At one point, I found myself debating whether or not to get up off the couch in order to refill my plate full of artery-clogging devices, or remain seated and try to save my dignity by eating a carrot instead.

I decided the best thing to do would be to get up off the couch and have some exercise in order to burn off the calories I was about to ingest from eating more bean dip.

Holy shit. Holy, holy, holy shit. We ate too much crap last night. I should probably eat nothing but lettuce with a side order of air tonight for dinner, but I’m sure I won’t do that because I’m stupid and apparently I hate my heart this weekend.

The wurst part of this whole thing, is that I have leftovers in the fridge. Nobody who came by last night and pigged out with me took any food home with them. They left it all to me and my will power.

Fuckers.

I thought about bringing the bags of chips and dips and hip-cancer foods here to the office so I could spread the fat around to my bitchy office-mates and co-workers. But then I realized that would require me to pack up a sack full of crap and bring it to work and serve it. That’s like…work. Screw that. Plus, I figure there are so many fatties here in cubicle hell, that odds are they would devour said food and be grateful for the chance to stuff their faces without feeling judged. They would have looks of ecstatic joy on their faces with each cheese-filled salty bite.

Well, I can’t stomach the idea of those bitches being happy. So I’ll keep my junk food at home in the dark, where it belongs.

On the plus side, I know that when I’m at the gym tonight running my ass off in an effort to quell the bulging protrusions of skin that is sure to accompany a day of snacking, I’ll feel better knowing that I was able to participate in the Superbowl Snacking Day without serious injury or any long-term effects.

Oh, and since many other people are doing this...I am going to copy them. Here are my favorite Superbowl Commercials, in no particular order:

Blog Surfing

I like to surf.

No, I’m not referring to the subtle science and exact art that is gliding on water while standing precariously on a wooden board coated in wax while fighting off fish that bite. I refer simply to the act of quickly changing visual stimuli in rapid succession with no immediate goal in mind. An example of this is channel surfing. I enjoy to lazily sit on the couch while clicking through the channels in an effort to find something to watch to occupy my time. Trouble is, sometimes I find that I am having more fun simply watching the random images that flash by on the screen, than I do when watching an entire program.

So sometimes I find myself mindlessly channel surfing, while somehow keeping my mind focused enough to actually determine what is going on in each brief television flash. It’s almost as if my brain can press together the seconds I spend staring at the channel and come up with a conclusion about what we are seeing. So it almost feels like I’m watching 65 stations at the same time. Good brain workout, I think. Or maybe it’s making me stupid. Either way, I think it’s fun every now and then.

I do this with other forms of stimuli, other than the television. Today, I did this with other blogs. Yep, Blog Surfing. I bet you didn't see that coming, did you? Unless you read the title, of course. You know that button at the top right of your Blogger page that says “Next Blog”? Well sometimes I click on that button and check out the blogs that pop up. I never spend time actually reading them for very long...I just glimpse at them quickly to get an idea about them, and see if my subconscious brain is able to determine if it is a blog I would enjoy on a regular basis. Most of the time, my brain just makes shit up.

Here are today’s results, in order:

http://reflectionofhim.blogspot.com/
This blog seems to be a religious blog. At first glance, it seemed like a cult website or something. I didn’t read further (because that would defeat the purpose of blog-surfing) to see if it was a legit blog or a freaky cult one, so for now I’m sticking with my cult idea because it is more fun. Besides, it doesn’t matter anyway.
For shame, cultists! Don’t drink the punch! It’s laced with rat poison! No enlightenment through body mortification for you! Read a book.

http://efze.blogspot.com/
This seems to just be a blog about pictures. I scanned through them briefly. Seemed very dark and morbid and sad, to me. Then I noticed that the words weren’t in English. My God! It’s some sort of crazy alien blog! They take pictures of random buildings and nature in order to study our…habits of…..er…having feelings…towards…parks. Yeah, maybe it’s just a guy who takes a lot of pictures.

http://eemvds.blogspot.com/
Wow. This person talks a LOT. They must like to talk as much as they like the letter V. The posts are Very long and haVe a nice ramble feel to them. I hate the black background because it makes me feel like I’m being sucked into some sort of blog abyss with no escape. At least the posts are very long and that is good. Vroom.

http://southernfenwayfan.blogspot.com/
Ew, a sports blog. These things bore the ever-loving shit out of me. I won't knock them, but at the same time I’m not sure what they ever have to offer that ESPN or Sports Illustrated wouldn’t have. And no pictures. Blah. I’d rather read about cults again.

http://ovcccast.blogspot.com/
Oh, my lord. It’s a blog with nothing but links to somebody else’s articles. So this is like…a blog article routing station. Actually I noticed that all of the links are supposed to be mp3’s but I haven’t heard crap, even after I clicked on a link. Then I noticed a link called “Scraping the Paint Off Jesus” and I stopped to chuckle. I’m not even going to try and figure out what that means. It’s funnier when I don’t.

http://draco703.blogspot.com/
Sweet, a Spanish blog! Lucky for me I speak Spanish. It’s not very interesting even after you translate it, though. I like the dragon. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Me llamo draco de muerte!

http://www.evangelical-catholicism.com/
Ok, seriously. What the fuck is going on? Why are there so many damn religious blogs out there? This is 3 so far, today. Unless the Spanish one was religious, too. Then it’s FOUR. I guess many people with faith now like to share that faith with the rest of the universe. Yay me. Totally fucks up my blog-surfing chi.


This is when I stopped blog-surfing. One of these days I’m hoping to come across a porn blog or something really interesting like that, to keep my attention for more than five seconds. Until then, I guess it’s nothing more than religious sites and baseball statistics. W00t.

Lazy People Have Feelings Too

While we travel through life, we are sometimes blessed with the opportunity to stumble across something so interesting and comedic that we are forced to share it with the rest of the world. It doesn’t have to be hilarious, or even be funny enough to make you lol* but it is funny enough to make you giggle and wish that other people were there with you when it happened, so you could share in your new private joke.

Something like that happened to me recently.

It wasn’t a life-changing event, or even something funny enough to remember for much longer…but it was pretty damn funny at the time. I promised her I wouldn’t tell this story, but the need to share this is too powerful for me to ignore any longer. Sorry, hon…but the truth must be told.

The other day, I returned home from the gym and began drinking my Gatorade with a thirst-quenching desire that only a full cardio afternoon can invoke in a person. During this electrolyte replenishment chug-a-thon, I noticed Jen walking into the room with a slight limp in her step. She smiled and asked me how the gym was, and I told her it was fine and went back to my drink. After she limped further into the room, my curiosity got the better of me and I asked her why she was walking strange. She turned to me, and with a note of drama and sadness in her voice, informed me that she had injured her back…while getting up off the couch…to get some food.

I laughed and did that thing with my drink. You know, that thing where you pretend to choke on your drink because it adds a little bit of comedic timing and scene to the situation? I did that. Then I did a double-take and looked at her and was like “you hurt your back getting up off the couch? Oh my god you are so lazy!” and had a good laugh about it.

Here I was, returning from the gym and bettering myself in an effort to be more healthy and meanwhile, my girlfriend hurts her back while groaning herself off of the comfortable couch in order to get more food to stuff into her face. I found the situation hilarious and told her so.

Lucky for me, she didn’t get mad at me laughing at her. I think it was because she knows she isn’t out of shape, or fat, or lazy…but damn if that situation didn’t reek of “fat lazy person tries to get off couch but injuries occur” that you hear about in tabloids or self-improvement videos.

It still makes me chuckle. I’m not sure how funny she’s going to find the situation, now that I’ve shared with all 6 of my readers…but hey, my public demands entertainment.



*I’ve recently heard that some people in this world actually exist with the belief that “lol” stands for “lots of love”. If you are one of these people, please do me a favor and slap yourself across the face for not fully understanding and appreciating techy-talk.

From the Ashes...

That's right...Shanshu is back again for more tales of group bunny, rants about idiots, and general humor and entertainment for the numerous blog-surfers who can find no rest or inner peace without constantly checking their favorite sites for updates!!!

I know it's been a long time since I've been around...too long, actually. But that's ok. I don't really think you will hold it against me. For starters, I'm not even sure how many people will even come check my site, since I've been gone for so long it's probable at least one of you has died in the interim...sorry about that, by the way. What's infinity like?

I wish I had a good explanation for you. You know...a tale of woe and despair that begins with a quest or decision and leads into a struggle for dominance and victory while adding in a romantic aspect and finally reaching a monumental and cathartic climax with a decrescendo of conclusions and a lesson learned?

Something like that would be nice...but I don't have one of those.

The best I can do, is say that while my life has had ups and downs and turns and interesting moments involving carpet glue and vodka, for the most part things have been boring and not really worth talking about in any great detail during my introduction post.

That's what this is, by the way. The introduction post into my new blog and the Phoenix-style rebirth that has occurred.

Since this is my first post from my sabbatical, I'm going to avoid getting into my usual rants or comedic posts involving group sex or Chinese take-out food and instead simply say that I am back, and I hope to blog more in the near future.

You may now take this opportunity to comment on my triumphant return and tell me how much you missed me, or how pissed you are at me...or just to say hello.

A Lost Cause

Shanshu's Dust-Slaying Will Be Temporarily Closed Until Further Notice

...

...

"This is not the end. This is not the beginning of the end. This is the end of the beginning."

Omi Supply Wednesday

Omi has been SO busy with work and life and changes and Tiger Woods Golf 2006 for the PS2 and school and that new chick in logistics, and his new hobbies... that he just hasn't had time to pose for Office Supply Wednesday recently. Luckily, I managed to catch him in the act of working on the new budget reports and managed to snap a quick picture.

He turned around just as I took the pic, and his ninja wrath was fierce, but still the picture remains. I win. OSW lives on!!!

Viva la Omi.

How Mario Makes Those Extra Lives...

I'm Not Dead Yet!!

Promise, I'm good. Everything is fine....I've just been busy and blah blah blah blah. You know the drill.

I'll update more, when I can. In the meantime, please know that you are all in my thoughts, and I would never leave you without at least saying Goodbye.

Kisses on all your pink parts.

-Shanshu

Fuck Earth Day

Since I do not believe that I can adequately describe my feelings towards Earth Day and how incredibly lame it is to me, I decided to let somebody else describe it, for me. I am choosing to blog today about Earth Day and why it sucks, using one of my favorite comedians, George Carlin and his rant about "Save the Planet". I hope you enjoy it.


We're so self-important. So self-important. Everybody's going to save something now. "Save the trees, save the bees, save the whales...save those snails." And the greatest arrogance of all: save the planet. What? Are these fucking people kidding me? Save the planet? We don't even know how to take care of ourselves yet. We haven't learned how to care for one another, we're gonna save the fucking planet?I'm getting tired of that shit. I'm tired of fucking Earth Day, I'm tired of these self-righteous environmentalists; these white, bourgeois liberals who think the only thing wrong with this country is there aren't enough bicycle paths. People trying to make the world save for their Volvos. Besides, environmentalists don't give a shit about the planet. They don't care about the planet. Not in the abstract they don't. You know what they're interested in? A clean place to live. Their own habitat. They're worried that some day in the future, they might be personally inconvenienced. Narrow, unenlightened self-interest doesn't impress me.

Besides, there is nothing wrong with the planet. Nothing wrong with the planet. The planet is fine. The PEOPLE are fucked. Difference! The planet is fine. Compared to the people, the planet is doing great. Been here four and a half billion years. Did you ever think about the arithmetic? The planet has been here four and a half billion years. We've been here, what? A hundred thousand? Maybe two hundred thousand? And we've only been engaged in heavy industry for a little over two hundred years. Two hundred years versus four and a half billion. And we have the CONCEIT to think that somehow we're a threat? That somehow we're gonna put in jeopardy this beautiful little blue-green ball that's just a-floatin' around the sun?

The planet has been through a lot worse than us. Been through all kinds of things worse than us. Been through earthquakes, volcanoes, plate tectonics, continental drift, solar flares, sun spots, magnetic storms, the magnetic reversal of the poles...hundreds of thousands of years of bombardment by comets and asteroids and meteors, worlwide floods, tidal waves, worldwide fires, erosion, cosmic rays, recurring ice ages...And we think some plastic bags, and some aluminum cans are going to make a difference?

The planet isn't going anywhere. WE ARE! We're going away. Pack your shit, folks. We're going away. And we won't leave much of a trace, either. Thank God for that. Maybe a little styrofoam. Maybe. A little styrofoam. The planet'll be here and we'll be long gone. Just another failed mutation. Just another closed-end biological mistake. An evolutionary cul-de-sac. The planet'll shake us off like a bad case of fleas. A surface nuisance. You wanna know how the planet's doing? Ask those people at Pompeii, who are frozen into position from volcanic ash, how the planet's doing. You wanna know if the planet's all right, ask those people in Mexico City or Armenia or a hundred other places buried under thousands of tons of earthquake rubble, if they feel like a threat to the planet this week. Or how about those people in Kilowaia, Hawaii, who built their homes right next to an active volcano, and then wonder why they have lava in the living room.

The planet will be here for a long, long, LONG time after we're gone, and it will heal itself, it will cleanse itself, 'cause that's what it does. It's a self-correcting system. The air and the water will recover, the earth will be renewed, and if it's true that plastic is not degradable, well, the planet will simply incorporate plastic into a new pardigm: the earth plus plastic. The earth doesn't share our prejudice towards plastic. Plastic came out of the earth. The earth probably sees plastic as just another one of its children. Could be the only reason the earth allowed us to be spawned from it in the first place: It wanted plastic for itself. Didn't know how to make it. Needed us. Could be the answer to our age-old egocentric philosophical question, "Why are we here?" Plastic...asshole.

So, the plastic is here, our job is done, we can be phased out now. And I think that's begun. Don't you think that's already started? I think, to be fair, the planet sees us as a mild threat. Something to be dealt with. And the planet can defend itself in an organized, collective way, the way a beehive or an ant colony can. A collective defense mechanism. The planet will think of something. What would you do if you were the planet? How would you defend yourself against this troublesome, pesky species? Let's see... Viruses. Viruses might be good. They seem vulnerable to viruses. And, uh...viruses are tricky, always mutating and forming new strains whenever a vaccine is developed. Perhaps, this first virus could be one that compromises the immune system of these creatures. Perhaps a human immunodeficiency virus, making them vulnerable to all sorts of other diseases and infections that might come along. And maybe it could be spread sexually, making them a little reluctant to engage in the act of reproduction.

Well, that's a poetic note. And it's a start. And I can dream, can't I? See I don't worry about the little things: bees, trees, whales...snails. I think we're part of a greater wisdom than we will ever understand. A higher order. Call it what you want. Know what I call it? The Big Electron. The Big Electron...Whoooa. It doesn't punish, it doesn't reward, it doesn't judge at all. It just is. And so are we. For a little while.

An Analysis of Cursing, Dammit

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Office Supply Wednesday

The Tragedy of Omi the Office Ninja

Part 2

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Previously, on Omi the Office Ninja:

Tragedy! Omi was found stuck to the wall...impaled by an unknown enemy!

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But, do not fear. Ninja can heal themselves. Sometimes, they use black magic and sorcery to accomplish this. Other times, they make use of herbs and ointments in the traditions of their fathers before them. But, in certain instances when the wound is severe, office ninja are forced to resort to drastic measures: Staple-puncture.

It is an ancient remedy, passed down from the days of the first rubber office ninja.

Omi's mind and body must become one, if he is to attain balance and heal his wounds. Soon, revenge will come to the person who impaled our little orange assassin! Vengeance will be his!

Will Omi heal himself in time?

Who was the unseen enemy who impaled our office ninja?

Will Omi get revenge?

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Tune in next week!!

Noooo, Really? I Never Would Have Guessed!

Today's DUH moment, brought to you by the British Medical Journal.

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Study: Goths More Prone to Suicide

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Bloggers MIA

My friends are gone. There has been no movement from their blogs, for a many moons now. The skies turn red with the blood of their...um....blogger wounds. Nobody updates their blogs anymore, and I am alone. Isolation. Dispair. I feel the cold winds of change blowing against my cubicle, and while I know it is time to clean out my links, I find it difficult to let go.

So, to help me with the transition, I have assembled a list to honor those who have passed.

Badtouch
Last posted: January 4, 2006

Danius Maximus
Last posted: February 24, 2006

Dirty Blonde
Last posted: March 25, 2006

Musie
Last posted: February 24, 2006

Ebeth
Last posted: January 12, 2006

H.M.H.
Last posted: March 6, 2006

Nameless
Last posted: December 22, 2005

Pizzle
Last posted: March 13, 2006

Rich
Last posted: March 14, 2006

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To show honor to their courage to rage against the man and waste time at work for the entertainment and benefit of humanity, I will not be deleting thier names from my Links List. Instead, I will create a new links section to honor the dead. Perhaps someday, they will rise again like a Phoenix from the ashes and entertain us, once more.

I'll only put the terminally ill bloggers in the graveyard. The sick and dying will go to the Hospital.

Our thoughts are prayers are with you, MIA Bloggers.

Something You Don't See Everyday...

While scanning the headlines on CNN today, one of them popped out at me, and caused me to do a double-take. You don't often see headlines like this one:

4 Years for Amish Sex Scam

Office Supply Wednesday

OSW TRAGEDY!!

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I came into the office this morning to find Omi had been attacked! His lifeless body was found hanging on the cubicle wall, like some cheap deer head trophy.

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I couldn't believe my eyes. Omi had been impaled by some unknown enemy, and displayed for all in the office to see. Evil is afoot.

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Gently, I took him down from the wall and placed him on the desk to assess the severity of his wounds. It doesn't look good. Is there a ninja surgeon in the house?!

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Overheard Things Are the Best

So last night, while screwing around online and minding my own little business, I happened to overhear a conversation that my girlfriend was having on the phone with her mother. The majority of which, is not important for this post. What is important, is one of the things I happened to overhear. I'll play it back for you, as best as I can:

Jen: He's coming in town this weekend? That's great! ... Well, I haven't seen him for a while. ... Yes, he's my brother and I love him. ... What? What do you mean, he doesn't know how to spell his own middle name? Oh. Wait, why? Why does he need...what?! Brian is tyring to get himself ordained as a minister?! Why is he doing... Oh, he's drunk? Ok.

Knowing Jen's brother, and knowing the random shit that he does like this...I pictured him online trying to become a minister and I laughed out loud. Then I laughed at the randomness of the situation. Then I laughed some more.

I'm not sure if this will be funny to anybody else...but I had to share the story because I had nothing else to say today and I wanted to update my blog.

So..um....that's all you get.

Friggin' List of Firsts

I stole this from Penny, and I feel no guilt. None, I say! Now, read my answers and contemplate every possible meaning of the phrase "Like a baby's arm".
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1. Who was your first prom date?

My first prom date (junior prom) was Lindsey. She looked hot and we rode in my friend's Mustang. Lindsey is a huge Beatles freak, and while we were outside snogging we missed the John Lennon song Imagine, which happened to be the theme for that prom. She was not happy.

My senior prom date was a blind date. Yep, totally. She and I had never met before, until I went to her house to pick her up and let her parents take pictures of us. My friend hooked us up, but we never spent the time to get to know each other, before the dance. We were lame, but we still had fun in an arranged marriage, sort of way.

2. Who was your first roommate?

Well, in college I was in a fraternity (Tau Kappa Epsilon in case you were curious) my first semester, so I had a bunch of roomies. But my first, official college apartment roommates were Kathy and Emily. Yeah, that's right bitches...I lived with two girls. And yes, there was some hanky involved with one of them. Ka-ching!

3. What alcoholic beverage did you drink when you got drunk the first time?

Jack Daniels....out of little shot bottles, purchased from a gas station during my senior spring break. The next day was also my first hangover.

4. What was your first job?

When I was 14, I worked at a local movie theatre called The Glenwood. It was one of those movie theatres that had some class, and history. Back when people would get dressed up to go to the movies and watch propaganda ads about the war with the Nazis. It was a great first job, and I loved it.

5. What was your first car?

1986 Pontiac Sunbird, purchased for me by my grandparents. It was silver, and had all the 80's trimmings..including a pair of deer sensors on the hood. That's right, I had deer sensors. They are these little devices that emit a high-pitched sound that deer can hear from far away...so they won't stand in the road as you drive by, and crash into you. My grandparents said it was for safety. My friends still make fun of me about it, to this day.

6. When did you go to your first funeral?

I don't remember how old I was...I think 9 or 10. It was my Aunt Bunny, whom I had never met before. I remember it was open-casket and I was too afraid to go up and see her, so I stayed in my seat and thought about death and probably Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

7. How old were you when you first moved away from your hometown?

I was 9 years old, when my mom moved us from my home of Mesquite, Texas to Kansas City, Missouri. That year was a bad year for winter in the midwest, and we got hit by a blizzard 3 months after we moved in. I had never even SEEN snow before, and seeing a blizzard pretty much freaked me the hell out.

8. Who was your first grade teacher?

I have no idea. But I can tell you the name of my 3rd grade teacher: Mrs. Kennedy. She used to give us jellybeans, when we got an answer correct. It was kind of Pavlovian in design, but seemed to work on us.

9. Where did you go on your first airplane ride?

Kansas City. It wasn't very exciting.

10. When you snuck out of your house for the first time, who was with you?

My buddy, Ray. We were young, and didn't do anything when we did sneak out...it was just the fact that we were outside, when we weren't supposed to be. That made it fun. But in reality, it was pretty boring.

11. Who was your first Best Friend and are you still friends always?

My first Best Friend was Jason, in Texas. When I moved away we lost touch, and I have no idea what he's up to, or where he lives. I don't even remember his last name.

12. Where did you live the first time you moved out of your parents house?

Didn't we already cover this? I lived in a fraternity house on campus at college.

13. Who is the first person you call when you have a bad day?

My girlfriend, and then my mistress. Just kidding!! I call my mistress first.

14. Who's wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid or a groomsmen?

Dammit. I hate recalling bad memories...the first time I was a groomsmen, was for my father's marriage to his 3rd wife. I was too young to drink, so I had to suffer the fools sober. Don't get me started on this topic.

15. What is the first thing you do in the morning?

I Wake up. This question is a little lame.

16. What was the first concert you ever went to?

Aerosmith, 1996. We sat 3rd row, center. The seats were awesome, and the show kicked major ass. Yes, I didn't go to my first concert until I was 18....what of it?

17. First tattoo or first piercing?

My first piercing was my ears. My first tattoo was kanji on my right arm. Neither one of them directly contributed to me having sex.

18. First celebrity crush?

Alyssa Milano, from Who's the Boss. And she's still hot today, bitches. Oh, and I've seen her naked before, too. In movies. Aw yea.

19. First crush?

Wow, I can't belive I still remember this, but her name was Sky Purser and it was in 1st grade...she was a brunette and wicked cute. I think we shared crayons once, or something. Sky, if you're out there and you're reading this...I already have a mistress. It would never work between us.

20. First love?

Lame, lame question. I hate stuff like this. I'm not going to answer this..too many people I know read this blog. Instead, I'll just tell you that my first date was with a girl named Brooke and we'll leave it at that.

Hide and Seek!

Can you find Omi in this picture?

What about here?

Or here? Ninja are stealthy, don't forget.

Happy Office Supply Wednesday!

There's a Reason Man Discovered Fire

It has always been my personal belief, that people who eat things raw or semi-raw are completely out of their minds. I have never understood the appeal of taking a piece of meat that is still bloody, briefly putting fire to it...and then shoving it into your mouth. Why is this cool? How can this possibly be considered a culinary positive? It has always seemed to me, that the best way to eat meat is to season it with spices and herbs, cook it, and then eat it. As simple as this would appear to be, apparently there are people out there who believe that the best way to truly appreciate devouring the flesh of another living creature is to do it in the most primitive, primal way possible...tear it off the bone while the heart is still beating. Only then will you truly savor the life force of your prey, and enjoy you meal.

I'm here to say, that I am not one of these people. I was raised in one of those crazy households that likes to cook the food, before we eat it. The only un-cooked food that is even remotely acceptable to me, is cookie dough. Other than that, you'd better stick it in the oven before I'll touch it. Raw meat is lame. So lame, it limps. It limps off your plate, then runs into the garden to heal and recuperate so it can come back and slap you upside the head, for trying to eat it without cooking it, first.

That being said, I went with some friends to a sushi restaurant this weekend. I allowed myself to be persuaded into trying raw fish, on the basis that it was a new experience and potentially happy situation.

It.

Was.

Not.

I fucking hated it. I tried two different pieces of sushi...spicy shrimp and a California roll. Both of them made me fear God. When I popped the first one into my mouth, I actually had a moment in which I debated whether or not to vomit on the table in front of everybody...or simply turn my head and aim for the plant in the corner. The only other time I felt such an overwhelming need for regurgitation was that time I watched Dr. Phil without being high on crystal meth.

I take pride in the fact that I not only chewed and swallowed the whole piece of sushi roll...but I even tried a second bite of another, just to be absolutely positive that I hated the shit out of it. After that crap was done and I had proved to myself and everybody around me that my nuts are of good size, I drank as much plum wine and water as I could to help wash the taste of sea cow out of my mouth.

The taste is still there, though. Yesterday I was having lunch and I could swear I tasted raw spicy shrimp in my hamburger. I'm not crazy...it was in there, I know it. Fucking chef bastards putting sushi into my cow patty.

So, I tried sushi. I hated sushi. I'm never eating sushi again.

Omi Wednesday

That's right, kiddies! Today is Office Supply Wednesday, starring our favorite orange office ninja of small stature himself, Omi!


Omi made it back safe and sound from his journey to explore the rest of the office. He encountered water fountains, toilets, and a certain copy machine who shall remain nameless. I think Omi learned that the best place to find yourself, is in your own backyard. So he returned to the safety of my cubicle to help me once again thwart office evil and help maintain order within the business unit.

Sadly, Omi ran across a package of unmarked pills during his travels. I told him to throw them away; that they were unsafe for little ninjas. Omi didn't listen. Soon he was tripping worse than Barney on meth, and we all know how that turned out.

I spent all day yesterday watching over our little friend; making sure he didn't fall asleep in the copier, or accidentally swallow his sai. Luckily, he passed the day in a harmless psychedelic bliss which can only be described as groovy.

Afterwards, Omi learned the full negative effects of drugs, and he is wiser for it.

I wish they made mini-ninja aspirin...poor Omi.

Oh My God! They killed Chef! You bastards!

So last night I finally got to see the new South Park episode "Return of Chef", and I have to say I thought it was awesome. There were some parts that made me laugh outloud in that raspy, asthmatic way that only truly funny things can.

I was going to do a whole post about the episode, and what I thought of it. Then I realized that I would just be saying the same things that other people have said, and it's not like everybody doesn't already know what's going on, anyway. Chef is gone. Chef is dead. He was set on fire, fell down a cliff, impaled on a stick, chewed on by a mountain lion, and ripped apart by a gorram bear. Chef is no more, children. They fucking killed him in the most bloody, gory way possible. And it was friggin' hilarious.


If you don't know the full story about why Isaac Hayes decided to leave the cast of South Park, you can read a pretty good informative story about it here.

The best part of the episode for me was the way in which they left the door open for Isaac to return as Chef, if he so desired. Yes, children...They have already resurrected Chef, though he's more machine now than man. Twisted and sexually evil. He is Darth Chef!



If you click on the picture of Darth Chef above, you will be directed to a great page with the audio from the Darth Chef episode, along with a great new Darth Chef remix of "Chocolate Salty Balls". Totally worth a look.

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RIP, Chef. We'll miss you.

Musical Maladies

Have you ever wanted to hear a song that you used to love, but is no longer around? Have you ever found yourself searching through closets and used records stores in an attempt to once again hear this song you used to listen to all the time when you were younger? Have you ever found the act of finding said song to be something of a quest? An annoying, frustrating, difficult quest what most often yields negative results, in the end? A quest for musical perfection to quell the urges and memories in your pathetic little brain that leaves you longing?

Well, I'm on such a quest, at this exact moment in time. And it sucks. It sucks donkey balls without a reach-around. It sucks in the face. If I can't find the song I'm looking for soon, I'm pretty sure I'll lose all hope in the internet and it's philosophy of "world wide sharing" and ease of use. Ease of use, my ass. Where's my fucking song?

That song has got to be out there, somewhere. It's ricockulous that I haven't found it, yet. I can't be the only person in the universe who likes this song...somebody out there, had to have uploaded it to a web page, or audio listing. Right?

The closest I've found to what I seek, is some pansy-foo remix that sounds like ass. And when I say "sounds like ass" I am of course referring to the fact that the music resembles a pack of monkeys farting on a microphone in rhythm with each other, along with piano accompaniment.

I will find that gorram song. Oh, yes.

It will be mine.


Bonus Points: +10 Cool Points to the first person to identify the Firefly reference in this post.

OSW on Hold Today

Ok, so I'm not going to make excuses. I'm sick today and I don't feel up to being creative for today's Office Supply Wednesday post. Omi is tired anyway, and I think my camera phone is full at the moment.

Besides, would you really want me to post a lame picture, just to satisfy your Omi addiction? Probably so, but I'm not going to do it, anyway. Just deal with it. Know that I love you, and Omi loves you....but today isn't your day.

Even if I wanted to give you a pic today, I couldn't. Blogger Photo Editor isn't working. The bitches aren't taking care of their server, and if they don't get their act together soon, Omi will have his vengeance.

Oh, yes. Omi doesn't forget.

Anyhoo, sorry 'bout the lack of Omi Supply Wednesday. There's always next week.

Toodles.

Happy Saint Patrick's Day!

Jen went out last night for some sort of Irish dinner celebration.
Jen drank at the Irish dinner celebration.
Jen woke up feeling hungover today.

I gave her no sympathy.

Drinking the night before Saint Patrick's Day is like...eating a huge meal before you sit down to Thanksgiving dinner.

It's not smart.

I'm sure this goes without saying, but everybody be safe today/tonight. Remember, only idiots drive while drunk...and always wear a condom.

Unless you're masturbating. Then it's ok not to.

Office Supply Wednesday

Omi recently fell into the mix with the nearby copy/fax machine combo monster unit. I was able to capture a few shots, unnoticed by our hero:


Here you can see that Omi the Orange Office Ninja has encountered the strange goliath copier/fax combo machine. In an effort to press his dominance over all things office supply, Omi attempts to reason with the plastic beast.


Oh, no! The copier/fax machine fights back! Here you can see Omi in a desperate situation...


Yikes! The green laser beams of death have begun to scan our hero! What diabolical scheme has this Xerox beast hatched for Omi?


This means war!

Happy Friday!

Today's smile brought to you by Foamy the Squirrel : If you've ever had to call Tech Support before, you can relate to this:

Here are the other two Tech Support cartoons, if you'd like to check them out. My favorite is Tech Support #1...cracks me up, every single time I watch it. Enjoy!

Tech Support #2

Tech Support #1

Omi Supply Wednesday!

Happy OSW!

Welcome to the Adventures of Omi the Office Ninja! I have managed to aquire some of Omi's diary from his travels...take a look to see what our favorite little orange assasin has been up to recently!

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Omi's Log: Day 1

I have successfully escaped the sparsely decorated confines of my rectangular prison. The process was difficult, but in the end I was able to break away and make a dash for the next cell, where I hoped my presence would go unnoticed until such time as my captors ceased their pursuit. My cell-mate, a very handsome and intelligent warrior, facilitated my release with a well-timed distraction. His very descriptive story about group sex and fermented hops was enough to keep the other prisoners busy while I searched for clues as to my whereabouts in this brightly lit, yet stale smelling new environment. If I am lucky, tomorrow I will attempt to traverse the green carpeted marshes and arrive at the local watering hole. May the mighty oracle Dell protect me, on my quest.
-Omi


Omi's Log: Day 3

Today's questing has yielded positive results! I have successfully discovered the location of the local watering hole. It is a very shiny, smooth place with running springs and strange holes in the ground. After extensive study, I have determined that the springs use these holes to evacuate the excess water around the shiny watering hole area, in order to keep the basin from overflowing. I find this engineering feat to be genius, and hope to find further evidence of technological marvels throughout the course of my journey. May the mighty oracle of Dell protect me.
-Omi


Omi's Log: Day 5

So far, my quest of discovery has been fruitful and enlightening. Yesterday, I was in the process of determining the proper function of the mysterious machine of brown hot liquid. After careful review and many hours of observation, it has become apparent that the machine serves as some sort of drinking receptacle for the workers here. The liquid seems to give them vitality and stamina, which I can only assume makes them more productive drones. I attempted to sample some of this "Cough Eee" as the workers called it, however I was unable to drink. The Cough-Eee was too hot, and I began to feel my face burn as I tried. While I was leaving the Cough-Eee area, I heard a worker approach! Quickly, I dove into a nearby bushel of pink pillows, hoping to use my ninja skills of stealth and concealment to my advantage. I'm happy to report that the worker did not notice me, and I was able to continue my travels unabated. Tomorrow I will head towards a source of light I have noticed at the end of the hallway of the green carpet marshes. May the mighty oracle protect me.
-Omi

Omi's Log: Day 7

This new world has proven to be much larger than I anticipated. Today I stumbled across a strange, transparent wall which impeded my journey and restricted me from traveling any further in that direction. As I gazed through the mysterious portal, I saw beyond it a world full of wondrous things and places. It is my hope, that someday I shall step foot into this new world and learn all that there is to learn...and complete my journey of enlightenment.
-Omi


Omi's Log: Day 8

The workers here are better taken care of, than I originally expected. Today I discovered a cave of water machines and mighty springs of joy. These tall architectural wonders stretched far and wide, and I admit I found myself excited to bathe myself in all of the waters that were offered to me. I desired to sample all of the springs, hoping for some sort of magical result or perhaps a blessing from Dell for my successful pilgrimage. Alas, I did not receive a magical blessing, but at one point I did manage to obtain a generous helping of a slimy, sweet smelling substance which poured from a shiny metal spout above my head. When combined with the water of the spring, it produced a wondrous mixture which can only be described as heavy air globules of semi-wet wonderment.

After playing for hours in these sweet-smelling pillows of fun, I headed towards one of the larger water altars. I have dubbed these devices the "Whoosh-Gurglers" because of the strange noise that they create. At times, the water in the lake of these large water altars does not move. At other times, it makes a strange noise and then disappears from view...sucked down into a vortex of darkness. After the water recedes, it then bubbles itself back up, like the springs of old my grandfather told me about. I'm not sure what purpose these serve, and so until I am convinced of their use, I shall remain here studying them. Many ninja would feel threatened by such a long, arduous task of observation. I, however, am not at all worried. These strange altars hold plenty of drinking water, and I have created a new game in which I attempt to guess the amount of time that will elapse in between each water disappearance. The answer will not elude me for long. Until then, may the Dell oracle enlighten me.
-Omi

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Don't miss next week's exciting episode of The Adventures of Omi the Office Ninja, when Omi confronts the strange monster of replication!

...and the winner is: a big fat chainsaw to your head!

Let's get this out in the open, right now. I don't want there to be any confusion on this matter, nor do I wish for anybody to walk away from their computer without knowing my belief in regards to one of the things in this world that actually causes me pain, from all of the rage that builds up within my body when I think about it. I fucking hate award shows.

Last night, I'm sure a great many of you turned your attentions towards The Oscars with hopes of wardrobe malfunctions and the wackiness that ensues when uber important mega-rich movie gods honor us with their presence for a few hours while they take the opportunity to pat each other on the backs and remind us of how cool they are. I'm sure there were some great non-improvised cheesy one-liners and a whole plethora of "shouts out to God" in-between the skits and musical numbers that helped draw attention away from the recently washed-up actor in the second hour of his drug-induced coma. I'm sure it was peachy.

It's just...not my thing. And that is the nicest way I can put that, without offending the whole damn world.

Award shows bug the ever-loving shit out of me, and that is no joke. At one point while flipping channels last night, I accidentally caught about 10 seconds of the announcer saying something movie related during the Oscars, and it actually made my liver scrunch up and die. I have to go downtown to the black market and pick a new one up, this afternoon. Ohhh that reminds me, I also need some paperclips...

Anyhoo, since I hate award shows more than I hate being kicked in the nuts by a pissed off donkey, I spent most of last night watching Dog The Bounty Hunter reruns while my girlfriend licked my nipples and moaned like a porn star. I tried to get her to invite another girl over for some anti-awards show group bunny protest sex...but alas, we couldn't find anybody who wasn't watching the damn Oscars.

Unlike my victory over Reality TV, I know with this one I'm fighting a losing battle...I know that most people enjoy watching award shows, and there is no end in sight to the madness. I know that people anxiously awaiting to hear who the pre-determined winner for Best Actor or Best Film are numerous, and cannot be stopped. I know that for whatever reason, award shows entertain most of you...and I respect that.

I just fucking hate them. I hate the Oscars, worst of all. The arrogance and pretentiousness of the whole thing makes my butt itch. I'm actually thankful that I haven't heard people talking about The Oscars yet, here at work. I think that might actually push me over the edge.

I hate award shows, and I hate the hype that surrounds them, and I hate the news articles and summations you find online about them the next day. I hate the whole fucking process, and everything that it entails.

Oh, by the way...who won for best actor?

Office Supply Wednesday

Omi's Journey of Discovery: Part 1


Omi has recently taken up a quest. His quest involves traveling to a far away cubicle to do battle with an evil office supply. I don't have many details at this point...all I know, is that he decided to leave and there was nothing I could do to stop him. Sometimes, the way of the warrior is hard to understand.

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I begged Omi to stay here, where he was safe. Without a word, he turned and headed towards the edge of the desk. I noticed there was a look of sadness in his eyes...but his resolve was stone.


Staring out over the edge of the void, Omi steadied himself, preparing his body and soul for the battle he must fight. A true warrior must always be prepared for new challenges.


He made it! After making his way down to the floor, Omi began his trek to the unknown world of Cubicles. What lay beyond his safety cube? What dangers exist beyond these walls? We can only guess.

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The voyage of Omi the Office Ninja has begun.

Which Would You Rather Fight?

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A robot?

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Or a zombie?

Be sure to explain your answer.