Today I learned something new:
Unplanned re-examination of recent food choices. In layman's terms this is to “puke”. This I learned from an officemate, but I'm unsure of whether this is original, or a quoted wise-crack.
Jessica Zafra, in one of her Twisted books, re-phrased “fuck off” as go forth and multiply yourself, and “bastard” as spawn of unmarried antecedent.
It seemed like a nice game, so I've decided to essay it myself and see how I'd do:
catharsis: regurgitation of constipated emotions
job fair: congregation of the penniless, non-slob desperate; or
job fair: The Search for the Corporate Drones Show
media network: pathological liar
Unfortunately this is only as far as my shriveled neurons can go. They've been hibernating so when they wake up it's time to log out from work. (Oh, my poor brain, forgive me for all the nicotine I've inhaled, I've been planning to repent and mend my ways, I swear I have...). Apparently, lack of stimulating activity corners us into the senseless. It's good that my lousy attempts have come to just this; worst case scenario would show me spraying paint everywhere and trying to see if I can catch someone's fart.
Fart: potently malodorous anal sneeze.
