Good afternoon. On the, roller coaster-y, 3:55PM. I’ve got “All Things Considered” on the headphones.
I finished the submittal and sent it to the printers for processing about two hours from now. If all things go well, that may well be the last submittal I will ever need to process for my current company. More on that later.
Let’s talk about something else. A living embodiment of a Ken doll (Barbie ‘s perpetual male alter ego), sitting two seats back. The teen idol is looking forlornly out the window at the passing train yard. The perfectly coiffed, pouty mouthed, clear skinned, just-post-teen boy toy glances over at me with unexpressive interest, as if he is posing for my mental camera. It is quite possible that he has no interest in the plastic belle Barbie. This stud may be bi-curious? His interest in me piques until he realizes that my interest in him is academic and not interpersonal. He goes back to his ennui staring, A&F model worthy pose out the triple glazed safety window.
Benched War Correspondent is here. Resting, or more likely fomenting a low level tolerance for stupid. Instead of being assigned to follow up on the deposition of Mohammad Morssey and the ousting of the Muslim Brotherhood, he was assigned to be on a computer which had a direct link to the maternity ward security cameras to observe the birth of the Half Blood Prince that has been bestowed upon Great Britain. He holds his temple in disgust. He was old-school. He was in a waiting room , smoking no less, when his children (now mid-twenties) were born. Today, he was privy to parts of Lady Kate that he is hoping to forget. In adding insult to injury, unbeknown to the Pulitzer nominee, his new production assistant has a separate jump drive of snapshots of the Royal Canal, and has already made a SuhWEET deal with the Guardian and other Murdock-Owned rags for enough money for the little voyeur to retire at twenty-five.
Also here are Clive Owen, Porkins of Gold-Team, Clair Danes and Alexi Giannoulias. All of em are armed to the teeth.
Happy Monday. God Save (us from) The Queen.