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When I woke up this morning I thought for sure that there was some mistake and it was Saturday. Words cannot describe how disappointed I was to learn that the alarm was correct and it was 7am on a Monday morning. Ferguson was giving me that look of concern when I stumbled out of bed to pee and brush my teeth. He doesn't like Mondays either. Mondays mean that he has five days of staying home by himself without me. I'm the pack leader and he doesn't like being left home alone without the top dog. Although, I must say that I'm not thrilled about implying that I'm a dog. A bitch, perhaps, but not a dog.
I dug up the James Moody song. Eddie Jefferson sang, so it is on a compilation album of his called The Jazz Singer. Beautiful, beautiful song. So, here you go - have Moody's Mood For Love. Once again I give the record industry a monsterous middle finger for threatening to shut down my domain when I stuck a few mp3s up.
I have too many interests in life. I don't have enough free time in the day to indulge in them all.
The office personnel are contempting rebellion. I'm staying out of it. The company that services our vending machines has not stopped by in two weeks. The Coke machine is almost empty. Spite and Brisk Iced Tea are all that is left. Everyone has a manic look in their eyes when they approach my office door and tell me that we are out of Coke/Diet Coke/Dr Pepper. Too bad, so sad. Pick up a phone and call the vending machine dude. Not in my job description. Then again, neither is making LJ entries, but that's not stopping me.
I dug up the James Moody song. Eddie Jefferson sang, so it is on a compilation album of his called The Jazz Singer. Beautiful, beautiful song. So, here you go - have Moody's Mood For Love. Once again I give the record industry a monsterous middle finger for threatening to shut down my domain when I stuck a few mp3s up.
I have too many interests in life. I don't have enough free time in the day to indulge in them all.
The office personnel are contempting rebellion. I'm staying out of it. The company that services our vending machines has not stopped by in two weeks. The Coke machine is almost empty. Spite and Brisk Iced Tea are all that is left. Everyone has a manic look in their eyes when they approach my office door and tell me that we are out of Coke/Diet Coke/Dr Pepper. Too bad, so sad. Pick up a phone and call the vending machine dude. Not in my job description. Then again, neither is making LJ entries, but that's not stopping me.
