Since yesterday, our office manager has placed about 37 batches of fresh, soft cookies in the breakroom. I don’t know where the hell they came from, but they are yummy! I personally have done some serious damage to the snicker-doodles, devouring about 250 of them just this morning. I just hope I can fit my ass between the safety rails on the treadmill this afternoon. I’ll probably just be suspended there though – my feet kicking around about four inches above the treadmill belt.
Oooooo, suddenly I don’t feel so good. My tummy’s upset. ::rolls out of chair and curls up in the fetal position under the desk::
Strainger, if I give you my address, will you send me some of them there snicker-doodles? I think you owe me, considering that I have no cookies in my house, and no ingredients with which to make them unless I go out in the COLD, and there you go talking about them… it’s just plain cruel, and I want some.
I was reading the Dear Abby column yesterday, and there was a letter from a person who said that a very nice woman would always bring goodies into work and share them with her coworkers. They were, apparently, really good. Anyway, the writer of this letter had to go to the woman’s house for some reason and the house was, apparently, really gross. Insects flying around a sink full of molding dishes, cats all over, garbage, etc. And the woman would touch everything, then continue baking goodies without washing her hands. Just thought I’d share.
