Alison's Random Ramblings
The Virgin Ramble 5/1/03
It's Thursday afternoon, and I'm sitting at work, trying to think of anything to do BUT work. I've been working on that for a good 5 or 6 hours now. It doesn't help that my internet connection is somehow messed up. I think my evil boss took it away from me. She thinks the internet is bad. She comes up behind me and says, "OH. I see you're on the internet." My reply is always something like, "YES. I enjoy surfing on MY LUNCH HOUR." Then she stomps off. We don't see eye to eye, my boss and I. Just last week I told HER boss that she was evil and I wanted to cut her. I thought the gang terminology would add serious credence to my complaint. Instead her boss just smiled and said, "No, you don't want to cut her. Sit down." I do want to cut her. Why doesn't anyone believe me? Like Shannon, the goddess we all know and worship, I'm stuck in studying hell. My exam is on a Saturday for Christ's sake, and it's Memorial day weekend, to boot. I guess it could be worse. I just can't wait for it to be over. Then I'm going to lie in my hammock and do absolutely nothing until that seems dull. Somehow, at this point, it doesn't seem in the slightest bit dull. Of course, I have kinky fantasies about what else might take place in the hammock (and who with) but I can't reveal that information at this time. The man in question might read this and run away, thereby destroying all potential hammock kinkiness. That would definitely put a damper on my plans. Instead I must subtly woo him to the hammock, then tie him with strings until he has no choice but to succumb to his own desires. Ahhh yes, the power of simple bondage. Sometimes I think it would be so much fun to be a little monkey. Or to have a little monkey that loved hanging out with me and was my friend. Unfortunately, I think most monkeys are not happy in domesticity, and it would only be cruel to try and make a monkey be my pal. So for now, I just like to think about monkeys, and call people "my littlw monkey" or "monkey man". Most of my coworkers don't like this. Actually they say they don't, but I think deep down inside, they do like it. If someone called me, "my little monkey", I would feel so cared about. Time to go home yet? Not at all, but I think I'll stop my rambling here. Kisses to everyone, from a cute little monkey.
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shannon@sleckey.com
