Oh, wow. I mean, crud. I have a meeting this morning, more like “No One Expects the Spanish Inquisition” meeting, that has me fairly spun-out. I am awful at these sorts of things, games-of-thrones chess play, political, jargon-y and power plays kinds of things. And yet, off I go, mentally kicking and screaming. I’ll put a smile on my face, and try to be a “professional.”
But don’t wanna, don’t wanna, don’t wanna.
Dammit, people!? Don’t you know I have blog posts to write, levels to level, gear to transmog, coffee to drink, and I’d like to do all this without mascara and lipstick? Seriously!?! There’s a Dwarf somewhere in trouble, who needs me! I got a Gnome distress call, and I am certain somewhere, trolls are breeding at a crazy rate and need birth control! (Sorry if by birth control I mean axes and fireballs, but hey, it’s not covered under my insurance plan.) Funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time from a buddy, while doing archeology noticed that trolls are everywhere, “Damn, they are BREEDERS!” Think about it. Did they get some mandate from their spiritual leaders that commanded go forth, be fruitful, and make lots and lots of baby trolls?
Tiki masks are pretty sexy, true.
Okay – so here’s this:
But more importantly it led me to some more fun blogs to read, like this:
*Hooray! Let’s hear it for pandering to an audience!