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Creepydisturbing dreams -- including a version of The Last Unicorn where at the end the unicorn died.

Overslept. Tired.

Jena's dress for junior high school "promotion" (it isn't graduation, you see, tehy're just being promoted to high school) is messed up. Mom came in here asking me to fix it. I explained patiently that I haven't worn a dress in about ten years and thus can't raelly help much. She continued acting like I should help, and finally stormed out yelling "I guess I'll just have to do it myself!"

Well, duh. I did tell you that I would be no use to you whatsoever.

Now it's time to leave only Jena still isn't even dressed yet. Whee.

YAY FRIDAYAGE

Wow, we had way too much fun today. It was just... yikes. The work itself is boring but man, does the conversation get weird.

We invented some new terminology today. Steve was talking about how he should make a scanning test to make sure we know how to do it, and how he should make it really hard with really bizarre questions. I made up a question, something like "if a wombat is stapled to a document, how do you go about scanning the wombat?" Chad, who, according to our running-joke-age, is the office pothead, responded that he would smoke it.

So in our office, "wombat" is now a synonym for "marijuana." Smoking a bit is petting the wombat. Running out of pot is your wombat ran away. Smoking a lot is flying with the wombat. Chad flies with the wombat a lot, says we.

The guys were also discussing bad names to give your kids. "Deke" came up. Steve proceeded to make the following comment: "My wombat went out the window, Deke." I haven't gotten them onto making defenestration jokes proper yet, but I think it shan't be hard. THey're already making things-going-out-window jokes, all it takes is moving the actual term into regular usage.

The best was about fifteen minutes before we finally admitted that we were out of work and all signed out early. Chad mentioned that there were no words that rhymed with "orange," so Steve and I attempted to think ones up. Steve suggested "porridge," but Chad said it needed an N. Then Steve mused that while we use lots of weird nonwords as slang, there's no slang nonwords that have originated with us that others use.

The combination of these two lines of thought: pornidge.

Steve: "The other day I saw this TV show where this guy was actually making pornidge. That was the whole show, just him making pornidge."
Me: "Oh, I think I've seen that show. Man, he does such creative things with pornidge, you'd never even think of them, they're so creative."
Steve: "And it's so artistic!"

Pornidge is food. So the next time you go to eat, remember, you're not eating, you're getting your pornidge on.

Then I tooked the bus home. Bus proceeded to go straight up State College when it should've hooked a right and then a left to go up Associated instead -- that was odd. Three lanes on northbound St. College suddenly turned into one -- that was odd. Bus proceeding to stop about six inches behind the SUV ahead of us, and to move forward every time the poor SUV driver attempted to edge slightly away -- that was odd too. Oh. Cops directing us away from the remains of a very very very messy head-on collision between an SUV and a little sedan. That was definitely odd. The sedan's front end was ripped to shreds, and the SUV was only a little better off. And a nearby brick wall was totalled. I shuddered when I saw all that. Yoiks. I hate wrecks, I always worry about the people involved. Yeah, I'm weird.

So. Now I'm home. And it's FRIDAY YAY WHEE! I like Fridays.

[EDIT] I also got fired again. I'm up to eight now. Whee!