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8:43 a.m. - 2004-08-26
Do Lizards Have Long Tongues?
This is it folks. This is totally and completely IT.

My last horrific day at this crappy, soul-sucking, mind-numbing, hip-hugging job. I will have a blissful week and half off from pouring coffee, copying tax returns, answering the phone and being sarcastic to everyone that walks in the door.

And what about diary land? What will all of you do when I�m gone? Will you go find someone else who will randomly humor you and often insult you? Well then fuck off traitors.

Yesterday was an all time high for my sad little page of ponderings. 22 entries, including some of my own, ahem, were entered on my comments page. I did a small jig before going to bed last night because of it. So thanks, and all that other sappy bullshit.

But today�s topic, or story if you will, is an important one. More important than slappin� everyone�s ass in pleasure at all the hits I got yesterday. Today�s story is about how I stripped my pants off yesterday. In public.

That�s right. Simple and modest me, showed the whole world my snatch. How? Let�s retrace the spectacle.

I�m standing outside my office, which is actually a home. This is how lazy my boss is. There are several homes surrounding his. And for some unknown and evil reason, everyone in those homes were out in their yard. Some were weeding, some were getting mail, some were washing the car while we�re in a drought�whatever. So I�m standing and smoking and I�m looking at the wasteland before me. People want to know why the desert is so rich in the browns and pale green colors�it�s cause everything is dead. People are fascinated with wildlife here. The wildlife consists mostly of scorpions, spiders, and today�s guest, lizards. As I�m standing and contemplating the afterlife and how it�s probably in this state, I see out of the corner of my eye an itty, bitty, teeny, weenie�lizard. Running. Straight. For. Me. At mock-ten. Thinking he�ll see his error and change direction, I suddenly found myself stunned that he was instead racing up my foot, up my jeans, and therefore, up my leg.

I do not like things that run faster than I can respond.

I especially don�t like things that are creepy and slimy AND run faster than I can respond.

My un-natural fear of these things caused me to do two things when I realized that this bold bastard of lizard was running up my leg. First, I dropped my cigarette and stomped on it. How wonderful of me to think of fire prevention at a time of dire need. Two, since I felt the little shit continue his trek north, I became hysterical with the thought that he was gonna get in my underoo�s. So I ripped my jeans off. Right there. In front of the neighbors (Hi Mrs. Stanley, how are you today) and the mailman (Hi Jim, oh thanks, just drop it off inside, I�m a little busy right now). With my pants around my ankles, my cigarette properly extinguished and my arm sore from the velocity in which I threw the lizard away from me, I did the only thing I could think to do in that situation.

I pulled my underwear out of my crack and smiled.

I can�t wait to see who will be out there today when I go for a smoke.

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